Dizaster vs Math Hoffa by Total Slaughter Lyrics
[Round 1: Dizaster]
Yo, your face is bushy like an Asian pussy
Why you always giving me that mean face? You’re a sweetheart
I probably make him run through Brooklyn and get me a protein shake
The same way Puffy made E Ness run and get him a cheesecake
Stop acting like you got gangster ass teammates
Your record is clean, you got a clean slate
Like the before and after picture on the average dinner on Big T’s plate
You used to be massive, you was a beef cake, smoking crack and you freebase
I grab the back of your leg and leave it shattered in three places
So you walk around with a fucking staff and a knee brace
I push your wig back further than the average Smack battle release date
Yeah, these are deadly waters, it ain’t a place for Math to feel safe
Come flapping like a seal, get your hands and your feet
Aye, battling me is worse than swimming without a raft to a lake placid three lake
Yeah, dose me, I dare you to take a jab at me
You take a jab and I’ll duck it faster than you did the first time I asked you to come to Los Angeles and battle me
Yeah, he’s small, I’m small so naturally, I’m fast and speedy
I wait for the attack
I’ll dance and leave and come back with a knuckle sandwich attached to a leg transaction fee
He don’t even have the brain capacity
I’ll run up on his ass with a Sonya blade, fatality
Finish him, turn him into a straight Babality
Then take the little baby and mutilate it’s cavity quicker than Casey Anthony
Last night he was tryna be the King of Spades at the table
You ain’t no fucking King
You’re like Freddie Mercury, you’re a Queen with Aids
He’s all depressed cause his little homie Cortez had to leave the stage
But look on the bright side
At least now we have a fucking Mexican cleaning maid
You’re seventy percent water with thirty percent lemonade which makes sense
You put us on short time limits, you can’t go unlimited
You can’t concentrate, your shit is Minute Maid
[Round 1: Math Hoffa]
Yo, I can’t ignore the sure fact before rap you was Borat
Before rap I was out in the streets letting that four clap
Y’all know I got bars but the jaw tap, we saw that
Knockouts, but look around Diz, your comp is all black
And since you’re trying to fit in with us I’ll give you more naps
Why you rap like Eminem on heroine
Cuse when that shit settling we're like ''damn he ain’t said a thing''
My talk show, I’ll rock you for sport like a letterman
You famous off the head, but a bitch like Evelyn
My ocho full of cop killers so it’s irrelevant
If he invests I still hang him up, call that a Merril Lynch
Now my man said don’t play, Hoffa don’t be nice
This battle shit straight disrespect, it’s only right
[chokes]
The second rounds on me
My only vice is I get shady and drop niggas like Obie Trice
Diz you creepin’, you sleepin’, my homies trife
They wake 'em up with a text like a nosy wife
You try to go against the grain like you don’t eat rice
You find your body sideways like an emoji, typed
I catch this arab on the road, I pull him out the jag
Chop his calf with a machete 'till it drop in half
Flip him over like ''is you ready?'', then I pop the mag
The things a black man gotta do just to stop a cab
Yo, your face is bushy like an Asian pussy
Why you always giving me that mean face? You’re a sweetheart
I probably make him run through Brooklyn and get me a protein shake
The same way Puffy made E Ness run and get him a cheesecake
Stop acting like you got gangster ass teammates
Your record is clean, you got a clean slate
Like the before and after picture on the average dinner on Big T’s plate
You used to be massive, you was a beef cake, smoking crack and you freebase
I grab the back of your leg and leave it shattered in three places
So you walk around with a fucking staff and a knee brace
I push your wig back further than the average Smack battle release date
Yeah, these are deadly waters, it ain’t a place for Math to feel safe
Come flapping like a seal, get your hands and your feet
Aye, battling me is worse than swimming without a raft to a lake placid three lake
Yeah, dose me, I dare you to take a jab at me
You take a jab and I’ll duck it faster than you did the first time I asked you to come to Los Angeles and battle me
Yeah, he’s small, I’m small so naturally, I’m fast and speedy
I wait for the attack
I’ll dance and leave and come back with a knuckle sandwich attached to a leg transaction fee
He don’t even have the brain capacity
I’ll run up on his ass with a Sonya blade, fatality
Finish him, turn him into a straight Babality
Then take the little baby and mutilate it’s cavity quicker than Casey Anthony
Last night he was tryna be the King of Spades at the table
You ain’t no fucking King
You’re like Freddie Mercury, you’re a Queen with Aids
He’s all depressed cause his little homie Cortez had to leave the stage
But look on the bright side
At least now we have a fucking Mexican cleaning maid
You’re seventy percent water with thirty percent lemonade which makes sense
You put us on short time limits, you can’t go unlimited
You can’t concentrate, your shit is Minute Maid
[Round 1: Math Hoffa]
Yo, I can’t ignore the sure fact before rap you was Borat
Before rap I was out in the streets letting that four clap
Y’all know I got bars but the jaw tap, we saw that
Knockouts, but look around Diz, your comp is all black
And since you’re trying to fit in with us I’ll give you more naps
Why you rap like Eminem on heroine
Cuse when that shit settling we're like ''damn he ain’t said a thing''
My talk show, I’ll rock you for sport like a letterman
You famous off the head, but a bitch like Evelyn
My ocho full of cop killers so it’s irrelevant
If he invests I still hang him up, call that a Merril Lynch
Now my man said don’t play, Hoffa don’t be nice
This battle shit straight disrespect, it’s only right
[chokes]
The second rounds on me
My only vice is I get shady and drop niggas like Obie Trice
Diz you creepin’, you sleepin’, my homies trife
They wake 'em up with a text like a nosy wife
You try to go against the grain like you don’t eat rice
You find your body sideways like an emoji, typed
I catch this arab on the road, I pull him out the jag
Chop his calf with a machete 'till it drop in half
Flip him over like ''is you ready?'', then I pop the mag
The things a black man gotta do just to stop a cab