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URLtv — Rum Nitty vs Lu Castro
Artist: → URLtv
URLtv — Rum Nitty vs Lu Castro — lyrics
{round 1: rum nitty}
Off the rip, believe he dyin’
A clean sweep, three piece
I got the cheat sheet rhymin’
They say «the alien» be sittin’ on bars
Like e.t ridin’
Mop-stick holder, leap if you feelin’ froggy
I’ll let off the blower
Jump and cast’ll (jumping castle) get aired out
Party over!
I’ll get you smoked
It was lookin’ like a flaw in the rum and lu polls (loopholes)
Tryna make this an easy way out, i give lu poles (loopholes)
Bring chalk
That «bullets go from lu to chris (ludacris)» bar, that was great y’all
I’ll have bullets go from cast’ to troy (castor troy)
After the face/off
Thing spark!
Raise a .40, bang it on you
He gon’ yell out to god ‘cus that pain ain’t normal
One they hear you scream and holler lu ya’ (screamin’ hallelujah)
People get to prayin’ for you
Dangerous for you
Cuz think he up on my level, never
I see i gotta bring cast’ down to earth
Something like the devil
We gon’ see him dig a grave up with a shovel
And put one nigga inside the (w)hole cast’
Like nutty professor!
Cuz is a stepper
I’ma nigga that’ll strike fast
Knife stab, and keep pickin’, the same part over and over
I’m that type cast’
Lights flash, you dyin’ bitch, .9’ll lift
Violentness
Hawaiian shit; lu i’ll (lūʻau) lay you out wavin’ fire sticks
Ric-it-remix it
Look at nitty go
Just like hawaiians roast the pig underground
Lu i’ll (lūʻau) get to cookin’ with the flow (floor)
This is god’s plan!
I’m the nigga with the hothead, stop playin’
You think you equal but you not fam
I’m a hunnid steps ahead, like a travis scott fan
Mop blam!
You deserved it, aim, see a big ‘ol flame
You see uzi vert lift?
You deserved it, automatic
Start off lickin’, then lu the (luda) first hit
Bird bitch!
Ouu you scared huh?
I ain’t tryna box, i’ma let the toolie air sum’
But it’s always that reasonable nigga like-
«man, y’all just fight»
…so i’ll shoot the fair one!
Shells dump, this a game changer
Play and be in grave danger
I’ll catch you slippin’, with the shot, like a date-raper
‘k-aimer, put a round to lu’s (lose) stomach, like a waist-trainer
Ay, gangsta!
This a bad move for you, we don’t «stabby stab» we shooty shoot
Hop in a subaru, pull by(e), wavin’ a .2 to lu (toodaloo)
If i pull it gang
We be smokin’ on lu pack when this would get flamed
Crazy, how this burner (berner), will make you a cookie strain!
Bullet rain, we beam shit
You ain’t never seen this, how i put the words together
Like a prefix, ric-it-remix
I get to cookin’, in the middle of traffic, like queenzflip
We trip, show me where that money at, or i’m clappin’ cousin
You’ll be the new pack that’s comin’
So you might wanna follow orders, like a tracking number
No rap, i’ll actually punch you
Have yo’ shit crackin’, or let your friend have it
I’m catchin’ lu or (lure) you with a jawbreaker, like a kidnapper!
Big ‘matic.. what!?
Big ‘matic, if he get too beside himself (tube inside)
I’ma shit-bag him!
Lift cannon, brains blown
This gon’ have your mama cryin’ at the funeral
Cas’ get (casket) banged on!
Case closed
Can’t keep it real yourself..
(suicide or i’ll do the job, you decide, kill yourself!)
{round 1: lu castro)
I said..
Oakland thanks for havin’ us, and bein’ a cool sport
It’s my first time in the bay area
It’s only right they gave me a nigga that’s too $hort
We bought a lotta guns
I know the art in this, i put my heart in this
A lotta guns, lotta clips
God he (gotti) loaded for this main event
I know death gon’ do (us) it’s part in this
Marksmanship, it’s elite with all violence
Why y’all got the nigga that’s strong wildin’
Big ass ditch, throw a lil’ rum in it
It’s a long island
I stumble through, mix-it-whip-it
Gun’ll shoot, closed casket
I know rum in it, it’s jungle juice
You have to stop, ratchet pop
Keep unloadin’ and slingin’ outwest; travis scott
Wild and crazy, .22 concealed, we wild for safety
Single mother; it be rare you catch me without the baby
Single mother; you know how many meals i made with this can?
Single mother; who said this bitch can’t raise a man?
I’m taller then you
Large intestine get torn open, wow
Give cornell powell, colon a pow
Now he with colin powe-, i’m loadin’ now
Head tap, land in domes
Eyes wide open, but for the window
‘nell (nailed) shut down, like abandoned homes
How you think of all them punches nigga?!
You pile of shit!
You must’ve went to some prestigious university
You’se a wild lil bitch
We in that honda shit
Loaded up, piled in it
That’s a full-ride, headin’ to cornell
I’ll get a scholar-shipped, you know me fam!?
Well tell ’em people you do
And don’t try to play me for the bread
I’m ’bout to blaze him with the lead
I give a fuck what crip hood he from, nutty, insane
He still gettin’ shot all crazy in the head
Put the gun in his mouth, make him lean in as well
Say, «agh, eyy, goh!»; kenan and kel
I’m hospitable, i spit the truth
I’m admittin’ it, five hittin’ you
Hospital; i’m admittin’ nit’
Let’s get this shit, let’s get this shit
Toss the gun i’m drillin’ wit’, hide the gun
Mix-it, hidin’ rum, i’m concealin’ nit’
You concealin’ it?
I brandish shit, i’m slidin’, start panickin’
No savin’ nit’ (it) when i’m spinnin’ (spendin’)
That’s bad money management
Problems i-
Nah, let me go, let me go i’m boutta wile him up
Problems i handle it, it is what it gotta be
Can you swim rum, tell me now nigga don’t you lie to me
I.. i’ll hold him underwater, and make him breath less
*gasp* take a deep breath
*gasp* ’til cuz pop-up outta nowhere; t-rex!
Here’s my proposition, sniper rifle, in a prop position
Lock-in-vision, point from the stand; «stop the snitchin'»
Bought a lotta biscuits, you could get jumped for the extras
The break barrel time consumin’
I brought the pump ‘cus it’s better
Smooth a slider, boy you ever seen it dump from a tesla?
Before the bumps on summer madness
There was bumps for the testers
Ain’t no boys in this whip
In this car men (carmen); electra
One band, one sound, one goal; the trifecta
My heckler, hardly talk but it shoot good
Kawhi leonard!
Why lend ya’, big dawg, i don’t play with my dinner
Mano y mano, no team play
Swish ya’ top; green bay
Bullshit; jean bay’
Rewind.. replay
Firm stance, kick out the magazine; eastbay
I walked the streets of arizona
Like «y’all ain’t know nitty? alright dique»
You fire, but you used to be a bitch in phoenix
Jean grey!
Nah, whip the pot, look at me
I shoot wherever your eyes might come
Oh you from phoenix? the bird fire
Now rise like one!
Nah, the rulers back
This’ll remove the soul of an opp
Belly fold when it flop
Body shuttin’ down, wow, it’s some holes in your top
Santa’s naughty list; i’ll him cold (coal) in a box!
This the big lu.. time man
{round 2: rum nitty}
Oh alright
Ay, i’m finna make sure the bro is extinct
Pistol-whip a ho with this heat
This shit’ll bust open big dawg on the grill
Like an overcooked link, mean
This the nigga y’all finna have to get the chalk for
It was y’all choice, now he hooked to machines with long cords
Fightin’ death (def), like nate dogg at the golf course
I’ll really stomp boy, in a pair of black ones
Lu can (luke can) go against the dark force, like star wars
I doubt that you really pop yours
Stop it, i’m not buyin’ it louie, i don’t got time for it
Fake ass, actin’ like your things blast
You think this is malibu’s most wanted
Knowin’ it ain’t a game cast’ (gamecast)
This a straight bag, i’d have battled anybody else
Even one of the qps
Could’ve switched out lu for (loofah) a scrub
At least got a nigga qleen (clean)
Make a move, ‘ks’ll shoot
Chops hang out, like a saber-tooth
You wild strong, ‘cus of the weights you use
Well let’s see how strong your family is…
In the waiting room
Surgeons performin’ miracles, but ain’t savin’ you
They couldn’t pull it off
Only thing they pulled on lulu was the plug
Like paid in full
You ’bout the get all the smoke!… and take so many..
(punches the fans yellin’ «get off the ropes!»)
I don’t care who like it, long as you respect it
Do you reckless, all that extra talkin’ like you a stepper
My nigga brandon, will let the toolie stretch him
I’ll have real name slide up next to cast’
Like a movie credit
Who you testin’?
Before we actually battled
The homie had a question he had to ask me
He like, «how you finna compete
With a nigga that get so active rappin’?»
I said, «i’ma shoot, and stand over lu, that’s the answer»
What!?
I had to clap him, you dead at last
You can’t compare us, i’m a killer in every class
This like samuel jackson, to method man
A 187 cast’
You see what i did to you?
Samuel jackson, method man?
I’m tryna kill you off principal
You better lift and shoot, you better clap yours
What you think there’s different color beams on the strap for?
The light red on the glocks
The light green on the tecs (texts), like an android
Bad choice!
I should choke you up, ’til his veins pop out
And lu piss (lupis) on himself, like jakkboy
Damn boy
I’ma bomb on him, body him
I’m a different kinda mean, like a homonym
*gun click* lift .9 on him
All i had for the big dog was a «buck!»
Like glenn robinson
Try again, you gon’ die fucker
Take his life from him, .9 bucker
Tempt me, i’ll get to slidin’ with the semi, like an ice-trucker
You ain’t no type gunner, you can-…
You can state lies about how your ‘k flies
But we all know, lu been (lube in) a pussy. like ky
You ain’t slide, long clip
Nah, i drop a bag and get this fraud hit
Fuck about dawg strength
‘cus now you got to (a) check on your strong friend
Bitch! you can’t keep it real..
{round 2: lu castro}
Yo..
Boy, shut the fuck up
I’ll sit you down with a smith; espn
Before smack, it was kick doors
My size eleven timb would get me in any room
My raps couldn’t get me in
I’m a sore loser, y’all know me for sayin’ «let me win»
Well y’all don’t wanna meet the lu that was screamin’ «let me in»
Let’s begin
Big nigga, i’m ’bout to yell at you all round and get witcha
You still tryna figure out
What all the raps in the base meant? (basement)
Nigga call big tigga
Stabby-stab!
Right through his ab, hit his liver
I don’t like some of that shit you just said to me nit’…
…pick ya!
Blik’ ya, bitch die
Fill him with the holes
Or it’s a gun-butt, hits side
Kill him with the no- boy that’s foul shit
Blaow shit, razor blade
Or raise a toa- boy who you gettin’ loud with
Sign him up, what the fuck?
Boy, get your shit straight
Nigga take out your phone right now
And download my fuckin’ mixtape
Both of y’all laughin’..
Both of y’all take out your phones right now
And download my fuckin’ mixtape
Big .8, hit his apple, make his apple stream, then i hit bae
Gun line king? that’s yo’ title?
That make this bitch great?
Scope on him, shoot on the first one i spot if i- (spotify)
Boy why y’all still ain’t download my fuckin’ mixtape?
I keep sayin’ geechi name ‘cus that’s his mans and him
You got lined up by the bros
And i’mma keep hittin’ every fucking bar
Like i’m tryna find the hoes
You been battlin’ since grindtime days
You not «new era»
You ars’, ‘tez, john and tsu era
Right under mook era
Whip the pot, this lu era
Who better? long sig (cig’)
Out of the ville (deville); cruella
You gotta do better, you peepin’ the wrist?
The pen a rival, shit’ll pop you
Silencer, twist the nozzle
Rum do a 360; spin the bottle!
I gotchu, flame shit
Ay smack ain’t this the nigga i just battled at chris brown house?
Ahh no it ain’t, but they all do the same shit
I took fonz last minute after i was already booked for you
So he could use up all the good lu and cast’ nameflips
None for you!
We gon’ rumble too, don’t get hype rum
They gon’ find yo’ ass in the caribbean
For talkin’ all of that spice rum!
Slide when the opp appear
Line it up, shot the fair
Boy, i will come to crip street today!
…aight maybe no i won’t but i’ll meet you a couple blocks from there
Let’s set it up!
I hit the guys like
«yo, yo i’m ’bout to meet with them niggas from the 4th in twenty»
And then we gon’ all run a fade, like it’s 4th and twenty
They call you the «urlien»?
Let’s take a whim, .44 blaze your brim
Metal dog for «the alien»; invader zim
I told you after nome you was top two
And i was gon’ meet you up there
So don’t be surprised when you got lu
From that day forward you should’ve known danger was comin’ soon
Like «that nigga want blood and i can’t wait ’til i run into him»
Then kg hit my line, i couldn’t think ’bout nothin’ but the look
Bitch i’m the ruler
You shoulda known somethin’ was afoot (a foot)
Too much smoke for the loc
I’m steve nash with the handle
He tried to run, flip the gun, three blast shit’ll blam you
The quarter back’ll get the can
I’m {?} with the campbells
Blam you! fuck is you on drugs?
Well come in shot with lu
Coke pure you could see the crystals
Looks like superman’s fortress of solitude
I followed you
I’m in his house, i’m comin’ for ya life
We ain’t comin’ for no kids, no family, we ain’t comin’ for ya wife
Say goodbye, one shot, bet i make it champ
Send nit’ (senate) over the house, like the legislative branch
They come to expect shit from you
So if you slip up, you’re the slouch
.4’s come out, big stakes (steaks); porterhouse
Mtv cribs, boom, tore (tour) the house
Let me tell you ’bout this gun
It’s a bio-tech, go inside yo’ flesh
Suicide, i’ll provide yo death
Hit his apple, docs tellin’ wifey «i know best»
They gon’ have to update her (up data) overnight like ios
{round 3: rum nitty}
Aight, ay
Ay, that last nigga got on yo head
He left you dead that shit was gory
I mean i could go on-and-on about
How he was draggin’ (dragon) big dog
But that’d be a neverending story
I dare you to pop, i’ll beat yo head with a glock
Split yo shit, to the white, cast’ll (castle) go square in a box
Nigga stop, most of y’all is straight bitches
You argue like women, is that the stuff(ed) animals do?
Get caught in (cotton) they feelings (fillings)?
My nigga, you past trash
On the east coast they might say you lyrical
But on the west coast we say you’re ass cas’ (ras kass)
Straps blast, shit’ll make you fly when the gauge hit him
Baow! your body soar (sore) away, like a painkiller
Ay nigga, i just put rex (wrecks) in the dirt, like a monster truck
I’m a gravedigger, i hate niggas
They be all gas, talkin’ ’bout «the ruler’s back» dawg trash
I’ll take the ruler out of y’all class
Like the hall pass!
All that yellin’ gon’ get dawg bagged
Tell him, you can’t do shit
With the webb if you don’t keep calm cast’ (comcast)
You and arsonal was lookin’ like a football drill partna
Real awkward, if i get a bump, it’s a body, like killmonger
Who is yo real squadron?
I know you say you not really goonies
But you got the shoulder bump like ace
Wild style like twork, fic-it-remix like— nigga you is a goonie!
If i get to movin’, crept in
He was cuddled up, in a room with his shorty
I caught the goon with the spoon, and cooked him with the .40!
This shit is ov, i’m irrepetible my name known
Really put in pain on the block, like steppin’ on a lego
Gang-mode, i’ll really clap it on him
Modified the glock to an automatic homie
Any static, i go get the switch, like my granny told me
And it’s loaded, got to squeezin’, hollows leavin’
These what cas’ get (casket) back to back, like a mausoleum
I’m a demon, iron dumpin’, we could fight or somethin’
But they say «watch out for lu he (luis) armstrong»
Well i think i can trump it (trumpet)
You gon’ die for nothin’!
Get the fuck off my stage nigga
Merc a nigga quick
And how you do a remix if the first one didn’t hit? bitch!
Shotgun, i drop sum’
You out here actin’ like a big dawg
But when you «whip it» you not one
Crazy how you got shot, but i caught {?} one
Bitch, you can’t keep it real yourself
(suicide or i’ll do the job, you decide, kill yourself)
{round 3: lu castro}
Ay uh, this my first time in oakland i told y’all
So i’ma just need y’all to fuc- i said ay big dawg
(ay big dawg)
Ay big dawg
(ay big dawg)
Ay big dawg
(ay big dawg)
Nah, wait, wait, wait, this nigga like 5’2
Ay lil dog
(ay lil dog)
Ay lil dog
(ay lil dog)
Ay it’s the big lu, 5’9 but when i rhyme i turn 6’2
Lil dog’ll get the bag like a rich white woman with a shih tzu
Dome shot!
Better hope there’s a hospital near you on the fall
Or «mr. former walmart employee»
Gon’ turn to a future mural on the wall!
I need it all, before your ghost spin off, that’s a leavin’ soul
He become cold, now his face even/swole
Two weeks later
Church picture day; deacon-pose (decompose)
I’m ’bout to cook you
Squeeze slugs, please dog
Rum don’t let up, nigga lu don’t ease up
Granny’s house on thanksgiving; i just knew i was gon’ see cuz
Gun smokin’, upon impact; lungs open
Slugs broken, on bone marrow, no country for old men
Only a few people get to see this part of the story
This for my close friends
That twinkle in your eye, you look happy to be alive
I’m finna dim this, as for cornell
Cor’, nailed it, like a gymnast
I’m tired of the games, let’s run through the 4th quarter
I’m finna sim shit
No games, won’t change, spinnin’ in impalas
We throw things, out that chevy i won’t pull it?
Nigga every fucking bar?
Bitch you ’bout to catch every fuckin’ bullet!
The blik’ clapper, steel (steal) baby for rum; kidnapper
One round, i’mma light this bitch up, it’s the «it factor»!
It’s lit today, you lookin’ for death? i could help ya’
Bird blow, you ever seen a pigeon eat a alka-seltzer?
Oh nah, fire
I’m finna black for the fans
Paul bunyan while i’m huntin’, fuck clappin’ a can
Newlyweds, ‘cus bitch i gotta (got a) axe (ask) for ya’ hand!
After i take an l, i’m not the nigga to run into
They didn’t give me your name
I just alerted them i was huntin’ you, it’s fun for lu
Oh a pinebox? a size one for you
So pick a buddy, before i pick your buddy
Y’all better run in twos, «rum»
Drive-by in a hellcat we was spinnin’, «rum»
Bullets ain’t got no names
But that engine how it hears when we was spinnin’
Come and get it, shells from the whip
Pop your cork for the glory
Now it’s tales from the crip (crypt)
Forensics said his corpse told a story
I’m with the dumb-outs, drum out
Hittin’ shit, i said steel out for no apparent reason
My niggas with the shits
Actions speak louder then words?
So i can apologize, but instead i’m fixin’ nit’ (it)
Let’s get this shit, let’s get this shit
These shots is limitless, niggas breath of air, let’s limit this
I’m with the syndicate
Let’s get this shit, let’s get this shit
Niggas don’t need practice
Yo’ you chained up, let me get some of that top-tier money
It’s time for this league to get repackaged
They tryna keep that money in efb and the brotherhood
That’s why these niggas doin’ rematches, we need classics
New classics, two ratchets, lu shootin’
I don’t wanna hear about what another nigga beatin’-
Nigga you do it!
You in the way, of everything i planned to be
You won um3, i lost um1, oh you think you a better man then me?
It’s gnarly now, they pick him to win on every card he- wow
I’ll mark him out, and drop rum outta nowehere
It’s a party foul
Hawk him down, three flame
It ain’t nothin’ but a g thing
I’ll crack rum before i walk in the spot, we like the pre-game
Big cannon, shit blammin’
Do big damage, shit blew up his whole house
Y’all won’t be throwin’ no more parties at the crip mansion
…and you better invite me to the next party at the crip mansion
It’s the big lu
That shit that y’all kickin’ is childish
Somebody shoulda told him, bronx niggas the wildest
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