Lyrics:

I said I'mma be honest, I ain't bring shit but one round and filler, nigga
'Cause a real shooter know it only takes one round to kill a nigga!
I said it's been a long time coming, Lexx, you've been scared of these bars
Get ready to fall
Mufasa on that ledge, and I'm Scar
I keep a l'il Uzi with me, like Cannon and Dram'
Don't make me back out on you like a narrow garage
The Devil is God, my nigga
I've been writing this whole week
But I don't write words
All I write...fire emojis!
You try to mic jack, you gonna die in your own sleep
The way I preach to 'em, this body remind me of Cochise
I said you gassed, inner tube, so I'll give you a slow leak
I will plug you, flat-out, airing, your flow weak
Don't speak
Get robbed in the grill, no gold teeth
Sock you in the mouth, I'm Mick Foley with that dope reach
Now, y'all think I'm supposed to kill his ass with personals, right?
Well, I don't give a fuck enough about your personal life!
You gonna talk about me being President, my career, or how I choked on the mic- like everybody else I battle
Bitch, get a flow and a wife!
This nigga sweet
He be looking for dirt and digging deep
He be scrolling through your Facebook, checking a nigga tweets
He be all up in your e-mails, searching through WikiLeaks
(That's that Hillary Clinton shit!)
Yo, his bitch a beast from the East named Renee
I missed her cheeks, so I hit the freak
I said, so I hit the freak, flirting
To see how that mouth working
When you leave, she out serving
When you home, devout virgin
He caught us on the couch twerking
I cut her with the head, I'm a scalp surgeon
She on her knees, cleaning up the mess, she got house serving
You ain't about murking
I'll wet you with them rings, that's a shower curtain
A bunch of arms lift him off his feet, like he crowd surfing
Lunacy!

You better ask about me!
I'll leave this whole place stumped, I'm a lumberjack
I couldn't wait to get this pussy in the ring, like the ThunderCats
You know what they said, they need a cheap opponent for my fucking match
I mean, oh, that's Syd: I could stomach that
What's up, Snuffleupagus?
This gonna be a whipping, it should be
All you did in battle rap was lose to some old guys
Someone give him a cookie
You ran Grind Time Atlanta, right?
I ain't a betting man, but you're fitting to push me
The president's about to get trumped, and I got a grip on it, pussy
You should've held your division down
Looked into pay-per-views and expanding the bandwidth
Instead of only paying attention to the door money, and expanding your band width
Notice when I talk about Grind Time, his hand twitch
'Cause it all went bad after every event got milked that you ran, Syd
And he just copped a new crib, but had to buy the canopy separate
He says he's the king of his household, and not the man to be messed with
I got some goons that'll sneak in your son's room while your family's resting
And take Syd's heir's shit like Final Fantasy 7!
You're the assistant manager of the hotel, Jason, but look like your fucking job's welding
You 6'2', 260, and look like you softer than butterscotch velvet
I'm a fucking fat kid from New York, and every rapper within 100 blocks felt it
They put me on to gain momentum, like the Juggernaut helmet!
And that's ironic, 'cause you're a heavy metal-head, even named yourself Syd Vicious
Switched to battle rap, fell off, now he about to quit spitting
Plus you was in a band, couldn't even sell six tickets
So, shut the fuck up: you gotta rock with rap like Limp Bizkit!
Team fucking Homi, man! It's Round 1!
Aye, that was for y'all, man! Make some fucking noise, man!
Let's go!

I said, this is the second-round eulogy, nigga
Or should I say divorce?
You separating from the game when you take this loss
10-4, stolen line! This your day in court
And I'm the prosecutor for the case, let me make the charge
The defendant, Lexx Luthor, he be taking bars
When I battled Syah, I had a line that was crazy hard
I said, 'I'll lick a barrel to his neck like a St. Bernard!'
Crowd cheered, the whole room start to shake in awe
That was on Don't Flop; don't act like you ain't involved!
'Cause you was there to battle Brixx when we made the call
And, not even a year later, this lazy fraud says
'Your dog get a barrel on his neck like a St. Bernard!'
Nigga, that shit the same!
Nigga, listen, this next sentence, I'mma make it harsh
The god'll rock your whole head, like the face on Mars
I said, we make examples out of niggas that'll break the laws
And since you did the crime, bitch nigga, you facing bars!
Now, if you take the plea and catch this 30, you're safe to leave
I'm a nightmare, like Freddy appearing in Jason's dreams
Lexx Luthor, all that Superman shit, that's make-believe!
I can get one of my Crips tonight to make him bleed!
Bitch, I stay with trees burning, so I tend to forget shit
I remembered to make sure you never forget this
You giftless; you don't even celebrate Christmas
You a battle comedian, I'm a battle emcee; it's a difference!
These niggas nowadays, all they need is a gimmick
They Christian or a nerd, you ain't meaner than Vicious
I'm hot; nigga, you can't even be in my kitchen
You a bitch, so it's only right I leave you the dishes, nigga!
Let's go! Lunacy!

He said I took lines; your verses should come with Carfax
'Cause you stole my Trey Songz/Trayvon/J'Kwon rap
Y'all ever seen Bar Rescue? Well, where the alarms at?
You ain't Jon Taffer, motherfucker! Gimme my bar back!
You got surpassed by all the rappers that you put on, the whole starting team
Brixx Belvedere, John John Da Don, and even Carter Deems
Nowadays, you on YouTube, biting bars and schemes
Trying to reword the punch like an Arthur meme!
You gon' have to prove you a vet tonight
Let's go, Syd
They gon' say I slayed a name on some Deathstroke shit
This Tommy dream about a Kendo stick
Keep thinking it's a game, and you could get the hands on screen like Nintendo Switch!
You are a piece of shit!
Let's have a quick discussion
You could blindfold me and put a hand behind my back: I got this fist for something
You got a Christopher Wallace disguise for Halloween, and the shit's disgusting
I hope you're the only one at the costume party, 'cause you're Big for nothing!
I keep killing rappers, I can't sleep
I just stay up and kiss my Bible
WCW: in this ring, we gon' see if Syd's a psycho
I'll chop him up in pieces, and rip his spinal
Then hide the limbs in the laundry mat: it's a Vicious cycle!
I bring gun bars to life, you can get lead injections
This .38 locks on his dome like dreadhead extensions
I'll do a drive-by in Texas, with my West End connections
Watch me steer with a revolver and a rifle in the back like Red Dead Redemption!
Man, suck my dick and write a book about it!
Keep banging!


I said you'll get a fade in a box: that's a retro cut
This pump a summer blockbuster: get your whole set blown up
Lucky sevens in the clip, I'mma press yo' luck
Think Powerball, you getting mill's with a couple of bucks
You'll get a big chopper drawn at you chest: that's Brock Lesnar
I bring the iron in when I'm bored, the Glock press ya
Magazines if you play, boy, you not Hefner
Can't dash if I touch you, Lexx: you not a Tesla
Hold on, hold on, who you rep, bro?
Nigga, Writers Bloque? S.O.N.S.? Ammo? Nigga, the Dallas Cowboys?
This nigga be clique-jumping
Became an honorary member of Team Homi, and started dick-sucking
Their sticks busting
We quick-rushing like Emmett Smith running
You wanna be famous? Good!
I'm shooting stars: you got your wish coming!
I said, I keep two fours armed, call 'em Goro and Sheeva
They'll line you up back-to-back like Follow the Leader
Swallow your pride, or see if you can swallow the Nina
Or you get a little cap to the back of your head: Hava Nagila!
(L'chaim!)
I said, grill cooking outside of your dome, that's a tailgate
Move and get checked when I draw, nigga, stalemate
Hate, and get slapped in the face
You don't want no problems with me; that's not a chance this rapper wanna take!
Wait, wait, wait, Pen, don't this nigga look like Sara Kana?
No, no, for real, like a bit taller and a little fat?
I'm like Sara Kana, too...the Sara that brought the real strap!
Get punched over a punchline, leave your grill cracked!
And that line wasn't a punchline, that was real (rap!)
If I don't get Battler of the Year, I'm 'bout to steel-clap!
So tell the Source I got a big K and an ill MAC!
Listen, send me any PG nigga, I'mma grill scrap!
Put me on URL, everybody getting killed, Smack!
Lunacy!


Yo, yo, Syd, you are big and ugly
Fuck how you feel inside
Plus, you been on a losing streak
You got a L for every time that Krillin died
You are old and washed-up: I'mma kill this guy!
Wait, those are my bars for Marv: good thing they still apply!
You gon' get the bars after I school you
Don't think it's true and see
My MAC'll pick him up after it sit him down like a booster seat
I said I wouldn't battle Syd, 'cause he ain't what he used to be
But now I'm cooking, and going against the grain: I guess I'm gluten-free
You got bodied by Bender, OD, it's a crime
Click the link: he blew it and passed like the Ocarina of Time
Catch me at WeGoHard, smoking weed while I rhyme
With some groupies
I needs a lot of head like Overeem in his prime!
And I got a mail-order bride, she from Lebanon
And ain't nobody hit it like the Pentagon
Talk that conspiracy shit!
I said, catch me on Syd's block with my weapon on
He'd turn to jet, and hide his face in the hood like Megatron!
How should I kill him? I could use a kitchen knife
Or let my 9 decorate his crib like Christmas lights
I got a photon cannon, it's a sick device
And it comes from the future, like Pippen's wife!
(Nigga, what are you saying!?)
I said, yo, yo, I'm killing this guy
I said, for one, I throw shade like Scott Summers
It's science...I had to give an L to a name like Ron Hubbard!
Shit's real in the field; he get gassed around the room like a crop duster
And they gon' pay my rent, 'cause this footage off the wall like Blockbuster!
I just fucking 3-0'd this guy
Can I get a fucking Beast Mode?
(Beast Mode!)
Team fucking Homi, man!