Tsu Surf best round in battle rap vs Hitman Holla, subs in description

Audio Description

I hear everything you sayin' But let’s discuss somethin' that’s apparent Hitman Holla, cold killa! But Gerald Fulton grew up with both parents Now, I’m not knockin' havin' both parents But your situation wasn’t the worst Like, everything Mommy ain’t have on the 15th Daddy could cover on the 1st He probably taught you that 5 step drop back And that spiral almost amazingly I taught myself you gotta ease off that trigger slow Let that hammer up simultaneously He probably taught you about the birds and the bees Chlamydia, clap and all about crabs Man, them niggas was out the window with the bird Throwin' out B’s, clappin', callin' out “Crabs!” You was at practice shootin', if you miss you do suicides Them niggas came through shootin' That was our practice; if we miss, that was suicide Every time I feel some type of way about my hood These family niggas be remindin' me See, we both real niggas, but you a different kind to me Math, English, Lunch—you was on a different time than me I pull up; gym. I pull out; trigonometry You had X squared over Y, tryna find the remainder then add up; I’m askin' my ex “Why you askin' me about numbers? I’m tryna bag up.” Your father probably bought your mother coat All your sports gear and your brother boots No football, these gloves wasn’t for baseball This face mask was for other use Your mother was at the game, cardboard colors, fresh signs My mother was in pain "You wanna speak to the inmate, press 9." You get off the court, woo! Daddy right there: “Congratulations you did it.” I won’t say I’m jealous But me and Mommy had to wait to Wednesday to kick it I know you won’t get it Shit, I have flashbacks when I spit it But Wednesday and Thursday, that was assigned visits I just feel like Big Gerald John Witherspoon and you Craig What you doin' with that Glock? I mean back on the West Side they ain’t have guns We had these to rock I admit if I was in his position I probably would’ve stopped We got so much in common; both protected by them pops The moral of this story All that fuckin' school and you ain’t learn shit Put him in my hood one time, boy, and you’ll turn bitch If Verb would’ve holla’d for my father He wouldn’t have heard shit! If you say you was wrestlin' in the streets You a Stone Cold Stunner You was home with your mother Watchin' wrestling: Rock, Raw, Chyna, Smackdown We was in the trap house Raw, rock, china gettin' smacked down. Jersey!