No Pares de Yago Roche

I'ma tell you like this, pussy, you shoulda stayed in the Midwest
The shit you're in not a piss test
These shots that I let out the stock, they go in vest
Leave him leakin' red, now he blue, he ain't switch sets
This bitch flex, get chin-checked, or stretched by my index
I pull up, then push up on your niggas
You'll get your bench pressed
The after-school program: I'll give these kids wreck
Like I left on the Caps Locks: that's big TEC's
I been stressed, I ain't impressed with none of these new niggas
Smack shoulda told you
I don't just give the shots, I shoot through niggas
I turn your yearbook pic into a news picture
Leave you in a ocean of blood and let your crew ship ya
Go ahead, tell me how you'll drop me if my jaw get tapped
You like a motorcycle junkyard: you hardly scrap
Be all you can be, that'll get your army clapped
Everybody get hit with this SIG: it's a party pack
I don't fuck with y'all fags, y'all on a gay team
You better slide, I'll hit you for real, I don't play swing
I'll clap the 9, leave him absent-minded: that's a daydream
They'll find this artist underground or floatin' on a main-stream
Silly old you if you confess to the cops
No video shoot, your whole set gettin' shot
Your silly ho too, she get stretched when I pop
I'm KFC, I wing the drumstick, leave her thighs and breasts in a box
Ayy, Will, check out this floor scheme, I hope you understand it
I'll give your bitch hard wood since you take her for granted
Caught that? Your marbles on the floor when I spark that
Ridin' with a all black chopper, that's my car pet
Carpet, marble, hardwood… them all floors
I'm strapped with a 22, one 8, them all 4's
Run down on him, I'm like, "Here, they all yours!"
Have him tryin' to recoupe from bullets from his car door
If I don't off bull, my goons in line at his mom's door
Tryin' to get him like he Concords
I'm strapped like Goro, that's what I'm armed for
When they find this boy in a box it won't be cardboard
Aw, Lord, I give him flashbacks of a while ago
If Will gettin' cash eatin' I'ma host him with a Calico
Speakin' of Calicoe, I'll fuck him up after ya
I will put Cal in the ER any day on the calendar
That shit I did to Qleen Paper was a massacre
I will get X boxed: no Soul Calibur
Will, I'll scrap with ya
If I lose, before son rise I'll have you sleepin' in a coffin: Dracula
I keep two K's, you're not that live
This who I gotta kill to show you niggas Roc top 5?
Why not JC? He'da end up gettin' popped outside
That MAC could rain a bullet, so when you hear that cha-cha, slide!
Shout out to my nigga Midwest Miles
I look at all y'all like, "Y'all is Midwest childs."
I'll have you wishin' you was back in the Midwest now
With my arsonal aimed at the only trick in this Midwest crowd
Play Superman, I'ma play the Kryptonite
I'm Papa Johns: you get a slice when I grip the knife
Hey, Smack, get it right, ain't none of these niggas nice
If you ain't from the East Coast you ain't winnin' shit tonight
Simple as that, I gives a fuck what this nigga said
I will turn a closed casket into this nigga bed
Rex told me go back to Maryland with this nigga head
I'ma hang it on my wall, y'all know this nigga dead!

How many of y'all feel like I ain't supposed to be on this stage tonight by a show of hands? Well, that's cool
‘Cause I read the comments and I feel the same way
Just ‘cause y'all don't want me on this stage tonight
That don't mean that y'all gay
But dawg… y'all don't want me on this stage tonight?!
Man, y'all gay!
Second thing, I just wanna tell you
Tell my nigga right here, this fat fuck
Don't say shit while I'm rappin', because this ain't that kinda sport
I'm the type of nigga that we can handle it after the battle
And I'll slap him off his momma porch
You ain't got no bodies, you signed this contract
You dickin' yourself sayin' you a killer
I see y'all still slowin' it down, well, speed it up
I said you ain't got no bodies
You's contradictin' yourself sayin' you a killer
I told y'all I was on some other shit
Now I'ma show y'all how to smother shit
But I'm gettin' head in your mother whip
She outer space thinkin' I'm her boyfriend
But we only fuck in the car: that's the mothership
Niggas like you and Shotgun don't say shit, I got a legacy already
Niggas like you and Shotgun don't say shit
But if you spell it out your leg'll see why
This shotgun ain't nothin' to play with
I'm the same nigga from BET, you see how I spit it to him?
Same nigga from BET that said "fuck it!"
Then won it, straight drop how I give it to him
But them battle rappers, I was just siftin' through 'em
But now for the dead pres I'm back
OD'ing on Smack like Chris Tucker in the living room
Ain't shit fuckin' change
Y'all gon' make me say "fuck the fame!"
And have this nigga lookin' like Alonzo when the Russians came
Nah, that was fuckin' lame, and this ain't no fuckin' game
So if he go for the steal I'll put one round his head
And tuck it back in the shirt like Hot Sauce at a Rucker game
I ain't fuckin' playin', you from the slums?
Nah, you right, you is from the slums slums
But you actin' like I don't got young guns
That'll come and leave you slumped some
I still got young guns that'll put dum-dums in your tum tum
For the bread, they'll put a knot on your head: that's a lump sum
What you gon' do if I come to Baltimore? Like "fuck what y'all say!"
You ain't gon' flip no rage or lift no gauge
I'ma be in that hallway all day
Sellin' rock around Roc like a dopeboy in the Flintstone age
But if you come to the Yak, you know what they gon' say?
You have just entered hell, Roc
You can't tell, Roc? You can't adapt to where we dwell, Roc
One night and you'll hear "dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah"
Nigga feelin' like he shell-shocked
You from the booty grippin' crew, that's why I can't stand the bitch
You can't even stand to piss, but pick a fight with me
Bitch, I'll swing a cannon fist, damage shit
Big loads knockin' down doors when we blammin' shit
Attach that long-ass banana clip, when I swing it look like a…
Bitch, it look like a long-ass banana clip!
But when that 40 blow, that's what?
A rocket when it blast off? No, too slow
When that 40 blow that's what Roc get when it blast off

They ask me why I ain't been on UW or King of the Dot
Doesn't even matter
This is my 9th URL, all my views are in the league that matters
End up like Samuel, I'll reach and stab ya
Like Method Man on 187, that's how I teach a actor
I'm mad I'm battlin' you for no extra paper
You have never been on a URL card so I'm doin' the effin' favor
You should take caution or I'll yellow-tape ya
To my shooters I make sure bills get passed, I'll be the legislature
I don't respect your gangsta
Swave, you my nigga, why you made him Team Homi?
You shouldn't let in strangers
I'll hit this investigator with a heavy banger
Put this cop in a walker if he try and text his ranger
I wish you would cross God: no intersection
Leave your men in black when I give Will Smith & Wesson's
It's ironic how when I raise hell he get sent to Heaven
I'm Funk Flex: I'll let this hot 9 give him seven
Tay Roc lose to III Will? Bad prediction
You're from Pontiac and ran into Roc: bad collision
You swing on me, get your life taken, that's a given
Shots will have your shit all outside: that's eviction
I will get your bitch merked: Mike Vick shit
Chopper the size of Tori Doe, this some slick shit
I will leave his lady red when I grip this
Pop the trunk, put you in it, then make your Ms. fit
Tell this bitch quit, his money long I get him taped up for that
Like, "Open your safe, or you won't wake up for that!"
If it's empty I'ma find where your mother at
When this mask scare her I bet she'll make up for that
I could get you set up – fuck, is you deaf, player?
You better walk, man, for the record I could set player
When I black over white blocks, that's a chess player
Get him clapped, find him out in Brooklyn like a Nets player
Exchange words? I ain't got shit to say
If we argue, right in the middle of talking you get a K
Now spell it out, and you'll see that that shit was straight
‘Cause if you spell out "talking" in the middle there is a K
I see you like rebuttals, well, try that shit with me
Right in the middle of your rebuttals you gettin' T:d
Now spell it out, and you'll see that that shit was mean
‘Cause if you spell out "rebuttals," in the middle there is a T
Rebuttal that! If we wreck, then it's a wrap
JC try and break it up, his little neck is gettin' snapped
Cal step in, get him clapped
He'll be Isaiah Thomas: Detroit nigga pissed on with 11 in his back
If I said it, it's a fact, shit talkin' get you penalized
I could tell you soft lookin' in your tender eyes
I be walkin' with a pump, sawed-off, minimized
One round knockin' out every round that he memorized
Niggas die, I don't change shit when I'm strapped on him
Gun bar after gun bar, ‘cause I'm strapped on him
When I clap on him it's a wrap for him
Since he from Yak-Town I'll have his town pourin' out 'Yac for him
I said chill, Will, if I don't steal Will, the steel will
Headshots, he won't remember a round: I'll Yung III Will
I let the crowd choose how you get it, when I kill Will
Should I give him a Smith like Emmitt, or Emmett Till Will?
Fuck what you call him, I don't find him that iII
When I fire at Will, I just fire at will
They gon' find his ass killed; even though this ain't your hood
You could end up in the trunk of a Pontiac still

I'm the illest nigga movin', you get me?
I'm rebuttalin' that last thing about rebuttalin' so you can hit me
I know you're not, so shut the fuck up!
Everybody wanna battle Lux like he God or somethin'
I don't, so Jesus, after him, you up
Nigga, you cannot walk in my shoes nor fit in my jeans
They will have to hem you up
I come to the funeral and alter everything on the altar
When they readin' that hymn, you up
Nigga, I will hem you up
You ain't feelin' me? I will "him" you up – that's Smack, nigga
That's just the evil thoughts of a Yak nigga
What you gon' do, nigga? Ice my house like an igloo, nigga?
But tell the truth, nigga
Niggas be hatin' on that line like it was bad, but however
That igloo line put this nigga ahead
Of every battle rapper, even Lux, he better
‘Cause with that igloo line you said that was so fuckin' clever
That gave him the biggest Eskimo fan base ever
But I'm at his bitch crib though
I'm like, "You got a fat ass! Can I hit somethin'?
You mind gettin' that thong ripped and gettin' some long dick?"
She too reached down, palm gripped, said "Aww, shit!"
I said, "Bitch, let me hit somethin'."
She said, "I can't right now," I said, "Bitch, we is finna fuck!"
She said, "Well, the kids here, and Tay Roc—"
I said, "Bitch, I don't care if the kids playin' or he is pullin' up."
Five minutes later Daddy was almost breakin' a rib in them guts
He came in, I upped the tool
He said, "Kids, run!" – I mean they did try to rush
But that's why I had that Magnum on me
‘Cause it catch kids when I bust
Damn, not here, nigga! Not here, nigga!
I can't choke, ‘cause I'm not a top tier nigga
I said I'm that new nigga that y'all need to know, flow freezer cold
You just another bitch to me: you Keisha Cole
If you got that bag and don't pay that ticket
You'll be in the ER if you owe 'em, b
And if you don't live, then you see more ratchets
Y'all think I'm chokin'? Y'all ain't even peep that
I just said he'll be in ER if you O M B: that's Bmore backwards
Let me hear you gettin' them dead presidents
I pull up in the Lincoln, that's what the weapon in
Run up, bend your men for the settlement
And you gon' get your face on the 50 like Jefferson
Don't say "oooh," because that's his shit
But we gon' talk about his shit
You gon' put his face on the 50 like Jefferson?
You fucked up, ‘cause I'm either some dumb
I might be some dumb, but he plum dumb
Where in the fuck do your money come from?!
Ayy, but that's cool, ‘cause if that's the case
That ain't where the shit stop
‘Cause I'm feelin' like Roc, cashed out when I'm at the mall
Or when I play with the bitches, wavin' expenses
Pockets stay full of Reagan's and Nixon's
Oh, you ain't heard? I'm the man on these city streets
Me and my niggas went to King of Diamonds yesterday
And made it rain all Kennedy's
I'm gettin' money, nigga, but let me get off that
‘Cause every bag I get, that's another bad bitch to ask for dick
Ask your bitch, don't be actin' pissed
Or you'll get smacked and shit
Or use this target practice when I'm blastin' shit
Let off two, told him to move his shoes
Or get socked out his Tru's: that's a fashion tip
But the third round was the one that killed him
That's ironic, that's what we ask from clips
Just ‘cause I'm fried don't mean you can't get your dame boiled
‘Cause soon as I saw Tay, I let it cook
So his ho can see I barbecued when that flame broil

You was on national television, you didn't get paid and you still not poppin' – what has it done for you?
You cocky off them 106 wins? I'ma humble you
Whatever you got paid tonight, I'm paid double you
I fuck up every rapper I come across, that's nothin' new
I don't fuck with you, I make fun of you right in front of you
Even though this ain't biological, I'm sonnin' you
You wanna win a battle, well, Roc ain't who you run into
Now I'ma put you back in the Proving Ground for a month or two
You be talkin' in codes usin' that fake Jamaican sound
We don't talk in codes on the phone ‘cause we don't play around
I tell my shooter, "Clap any faggot you see standin' round!"
Crucify him, that mean once you cross him get him hammerd down
He like, "What if this fat nigga try to run?"
I'm like, "Track him down."
I guess y'all want me to define that, that mean map his town
When you see him, pat him down
If he smirk, crack his smile, clap him down
Leave him on his face: Pacquiao
Real life, don't get yours taken, I won't play with you
This ain't a movie, you can get your kids taken too
One clip, but it holds 30, look like it's takin' two
When I grip that Lemon Squeeze I ain't makin' juice
Tay the truth, I came with all bars, I don't joke
Besides the fact your mom smoke crack and smell like dope smoke
I'm loco, I run up on your bitch while she's solo
She's Evelyn: her head gets the butt of the ocho
I'll fuck his bitch and his sister in the same car
Fuck his bitch in the backseat, then I trade off
Strokin' your sister, then I pull out of that lame broad
Your bitch cleaned my dick with her mouth: I got brainwashed
This that old Roc, disrespect to your whole block
This 4 pop, leave holes in him the size of boat locks
Face shots: Botox, killin' niggas, I won't stop
Another Midwest nigga that ran into that road block
I'm so hot, you heard you had me, you shoulda called it quits
You prayin' that I choke in my third, but I ain't Charlie Clips
Ayy, Charlie Clips, could I take it a bit further?
How he kill me but I lived to talk about it?
Ain't that attempt murder?
Fuck that! Back to you, William must be high on crack
From now on I'm disrespectin' niggas, fuck how you act
If your bitch jump in between us while we try and scrap
I'ma put baby to sleep when I give that dime a tap
How is that? Holla at me, I'ma holla back
One on one I'll make this nigga look like Kyla Pratt
Please don't make this llama clap
When it pop off I'll put you in the same place I put Rich Dolarz at
I'm nice! I'm nice! I'll be that
You tryin' to tango? I'll box your head like Oovoo for the tiny chat
All I know is this grimy rap; you swing, I'll bob the cat
Once I right him, I left him, like "I'll be back."
As far as my money, don't get in between
I find your bitch, take that B head: that's guillotine
You scheme in your raps, I really scheme
With extensions that'll take that whole party out like a limousine
I keep two quarters on me without a conscience
I could do four dimes for these two nickels, but if they find this
Here's a penny for your thoughts, give me nonsense
That chopper holds a dollar, when I shoot that's 99 cents

I'm mad right now, so fuck it, I'm about to talk shit
What you niggas mad at? ‘Cause I'm the new nigga?
Y'all have to go from A to B, B to C, D to E
I went from A to E, you think I give a fuck where Tay'II be?
Just only wanna say one thing
I don't wanna hear no "Don Demarco!"
Or no "Bang… Bang… Bang…" because that shit gay to me
But look, you told Shine that he got his swag from Rex
And that he was Rex foster child
You right, and Murda Mook is his foster mother
But if he killed you and joined Dot Mob
What is he? His foster brother
Now, Summer Madness 3 got pushed back
But fuck it, we made his fall bigger
These Dot Mob niggas all dinner
Come with the chop at his block
And make it motherfuckin' rain all over the place like a call center
I'm walkin' up on him, like, "Tay Roc!
Why the fuck is you nervous? Fuck is your purpose?"
The only benefits you got with Dot Mob
Is if I do you bodily harm you under some nurses
But if my mans get that call he'll meet, greet, serve you
And send you on your way: that's customer service
Kill you, then off your spouse next
I hate you so much I hope a mosquito fly over to Magic Johnson crib, then come to your house next
I'll catch Tay on the late night, hood on, brim low
I gotta creep silence with that 40, you know, tip toe
Soon as I see him I– man, what the fuck I gotta do that shit for?
I could walk up to this nigga with no strap
Like, "Bitch, what they hit for?"
He ain't even do nothin' on the nigga that beat his moms
But I bet he'll hit a bitch though
Fifth blow, leave him layin' there, like, "That's berserk."
See your bitch, grab her purse
Run in the room, stab the nurse, blasts disperse
Have this bitch-ass nigga chest lookin' like a afterbirth
Fuck that old Roc, them two niggas
Four burners and that stove top!
This that one 12 blinkin' in your face: that's that broke clock
I know these niggas lookin' like
"Aight, III Will, you could tell he a threat, he ready for vets."
Nah, I'm already ahead of the rest
So fuck a vest, protect your head and your neck
I'm pissin' on all these top tier bitches
And waitin' on the outcome: that's a pregnancy test
Left him a mess, Tay, we can box if you want
Get socked if you jump, MAC in the car, but not in the trunk
Cockin' the pump, it's like I'm a virgin on a murder spree
I could kill this bitch and not give a fuck
I let that snub nose touch Roc
I'm the director of a rehabilitation center: fuck Roc!
I'm silent granite, he pomegranate, I cock it, blam it
It look like rocket damage when Roc get damaged
But dawg, you from the booty grippin' crew
Look, I know it just sound like I'm chastisin' and scoldin' and shit
But maybe these words will mold you and shit
Homosexuality in your faculty is noticed and shit
Niggas grab on your booty when you flowin' and shit
What if you spit a hot three rounds?
K-Shine gon' come grab your scrotum and shit
What if you in the studio and spit a hot track?
They gon probably— dawg, y'all see where I'm goin' with this?
But fuck it, if y'all get money, why would I ruin that shit?
But at least we all know now what y'all do for that shit
I'm a Team Homi ‘cause every real nigga know me
I'm a Team Homi nigga because I'm good when I'm OT
I'm a Team Homi nigga because I'm everywhere hood be
Ayo, Aye Verb, I'm a Team Homi nigga
Because your momma said I could be
I got that Glock in the right, push his wig left
Bullets Catholic Priests: touch his kid next
I'm tryin' to smoke, empty his guts, split his mid sect
I remind Tay of Aye Verb mother, toughest nigga in the Midwest
This nigga Math Hoffa said I stole his Jamaican shit, y'all
So out of every battle rapper, that's the nigga I'ma steal from?
What the fuck is the reason?
Besides, he stole Bonnie from me
So if anything, motherfucker, we even
Did Tsu Surf pull an AR off his hip? Tell me that it's not so
Tell Hitman to stop shootin' empty shells, pronto!
And if Hollow wanna be Hollow he can get a hollow, blindfold
I don't care if I get high or low
Straight up I made this shit, ain't nobody gave me shit
Niggas talkin' about they paved the way for me
Nigga, pave this dick, Yak-Town in this bitch, man