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letra de young kannon vs. pass - urltv

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[round 1: p-ss]
aye, l.a., i said, y’all ready!? what’s happenin’!?

i said, aye, kannon…(-clap-clap-)
you did this sh-t for a free trip to l.a., my n-gga
you just happy to be here
n-gga, this me vers’ myself
you just happen to be here!
i come back, then disappear, after i crack your hemisphere
have a cannon (kannon) rappin’ back at kannon like when he practice in the mirror
you cl!cked wit’ cave gang for the clout? you corny
we seen this sh-t before
that’s kannon (cannon) hidin’ in a cave…but i beat mario 64!
but kannon ain’t hear it
your reception fuzzy? your antenna bent?
well, i’m the man, and they fear it
these n-ggas all write for each other, can’t even handle their lyrics
my only ghostwriter is my dead homies when i channel they spirit!
i said, smdllack, lemme grrrat! this n-gga!
so now i’mma get to the bag
but sh-t, the bigger the body, the bigger the bag
so, fat boy, you finna get bodied, so get in the bag
this a colostomy: this sh-t in the bag
it’s always, uh, jordan 3s, or it’s yeezys
well, throw them sh-ts in a bag
so, jump, man (jumpman) off the side, or you finna get tagged
wait…no? ok, well, it’s a different bag
yo’ b-tch give out a lot of mouth: she got gift of the gab!
her road head? fire!
burnt tires, the michelin smashed
brains on the road…the b-tch gettin’ ditched like i drifted and crashed
wait, my bad, kannon
you already been forgot about
don’t n0body give a f-ck about nothin’ that your name on
last time n-ggas had dedication with kannon (cannon), it was the wayne song!
hands swinging, leave ya whole camp pain when i’m campaigning
your style? boring
you need some flow, some brand changing
i’m tellin’ this b-tch what he should already know: this man’s plain (mansplaining)
but he can’t hang, this is fundamental
you just mad no one’ll mention you
but these bullets stick wit’ you no matter what: that’s unconditional
pick you apart, your flow stuck: i un-condition you
high-definition vivid, but this kannon (canon) image is one-dimensional!
i’m the man again, you a mannequin
fists of fury leave your picture blurry: i’ll crack kannon (canon) lens!
wait, hold on, wait, lemme get this straight
you a mixed-race black and mexican boy from chicago
that mean yo’ pops and yo’ uncle is los pollos hermanos!
you got fried chicken in yo’ tacos, and chitlins in your nachos!
is it cazadores, or hennessy? i’ll hit you wit’ the bottle!
‘til your temple leakin’ tomato sauce
turn your sh-t into gazpacho!
man, you the king of those outdated, recycled bars, and that’s your best sh-t
i’m on some next sh-t
you always bringin’ up old sh-t like an ex b-tch
they just buyin’ how you deliver those old throwaways: get off craigslist!
you get shot on the scene: news camera
incredible green: bruce banner
new hammers, you could die right where you standin’
don’t get too out of control
if you too loose, kannon, we might lose kannon
i got a question: i heard you got yo’ b-tch pregnant…no? maybe?
i hope you got some time to find a better girl
next time, check preferrals
my whole team got the neck referral
gave her backshots ‘til her -ss was numb: don’t need an epidural!
that’s the main you got!?
she says that you complain a lot!
she ain’t throwin’ up the set, but she says she wanna bang the block
and i know what got your mind off track – we had to train a thot (of thought)!
yeah, i know, i done heard the worst
yeah, i done heard the worst
right now, i’m chillin’ on this clown
if my n-ggas swerve and skrrt!, your feelings on the ground
yeah…word to twork, bruh, i’m really from the town!
town business, n-gga!

[round 1: young kannon]
i said, they booked yk vers’ p-ss…wurdz
yeah, you’se a name
and now i’m doin’ the body dirty, like the villain on pootie tang
you bein’ on smack, is like the hoovers chillin’ on a piru block
or the brims maneuverin’ on a 60s set
either way, you gettin’ wet wit’ a stick: i brought the swiffer jet
but in oakland, they say everybody treat you like fam’, bro
that’s why i’m lettin’ cans go when i hit san leandro
pull up like skrrrt!
“aye, y’all n-ggas know p-ss!? but i’m sayin’, is that ya man, though?”
brrrrr! become a stereo-type: that’s what i’m sayin’, yo (sanyo)!
i’m layin’ low, for the right time to let the pistol loose
let a n-gga snoop
get a bow in the crib: that’s “gin and juice”!
stop playin’ wit’ me!
caught him off the moon rocks, and put a crater in him!
put a n-gga under them white sheets: he clayton bigsby!
ridin’ wit’ the big sh-t, you gotta lift the hatch to pull it out
two half-moons, make a full one, you know the wolves is out
like, “what the bull about!?”
i’m testin’ him, seein’ if he take the drama route
bomb his scalp
i keep the same energy
my light bill expensive like ya mama house!
it’s over, p-ss! no, really, it’s over, p-ss
no gas, i burnt the bridge, you can’t get over, p-ss (overp-ss)!
funeral, a bunch of f-ckin’ nerds cryin’ over p-ss
whoever got a problem wit’ it, we gon’ lay ‘em down over p-ss
i air and spray ‘em, wit’ a hollow, man, like kevin bacon
got the 12, barkin’ in your face: it’s interrogatin’!
get a bag, sit him in the sky like he parasailin’
man, gimme a gun and a transporter, i’ll be h-lla straightened
‘cause all i need is a .40 and a mule: come get your reparations!
bow! i’ll let it ring
the next call put your life on hold
got some hittas from inglewood, yeah, they ride or go
your type flow jokes
me, i like to light fo’fo’s
tommy, knock him through the wall like, “gina, i don’t wanna fight no mo’!”
you told brizz rawsteen, “they got me battlin’ this n0body…wit’ no bodies…”
three rounds later, you got bodied!
he made ya lay down
n-ggas get victimized when the cave ‘round
that murder was a cl-ss act
your blood was on the knife so long, it turned the blade brown!
you duncan pinderhughes-swag-havin’–ss n-gga!
boy, we got the steel in this place
i wish you would shop (woodshop)
i lay the kid down wit’ the drill in his face
like, “look, n-gga, you’ gon do all my homework, take my tests, and p-ss, p-ss
or you gon’ p-ss, p-ss”
ratchet twist heads in the street, like, “d-mn, that b-tch got a fat -ss!”
i’m past go
give him a ten-second head start like, “p-ss, go”
monopoly: he catch 200 if p-ss go
i c-ck and aim, your block get banged
trade clips: that’s a stock exchange
no, drop the thangs
‘cause i get sh-t moving wit’ the hands: i’m doctor strange!
i’ll bring the smoke direct to you if p-ss is (p-ssive) aggressive
homing pigeon: take the birds and watch p-ss get the message
blast him and stretch him
if p-ss in a p-ssenger, p-ss me a weapon
chest shot, then off in the head: that’s a manic-depressive
throw a bullet at your homie, let’s see if p-ss intercept it
give a n-gga eye this (itis) with the first mill’ (meal): he ain’t askin’ for seconds
alex was cold in the past, but can’t adapt to the present
get ate (8) wit’ a stick when i cap a tool (capital): turn alex ovechkin!
you in the bay doin’ your oakland thang, wit’ your oakland gang?
n-gga, you a oakland lame
twin macs, go, “ya-da-da-mean!” like oakland slang!
load and bang, the kickback leave my shoulder strained
i’ll let my n-gga from texas hold ‘em
let the body flop and turn into a river like a poker game
this ain’t no timid warning
i’m sittin’ on him
phone call, my n-ggas swarm him
caught him runnin’ out the wrong side, now the j.r. (jr.) smith is on him
sh-t’ll scorch him, lift it on him
morse code, cl!ck it on him
face shot…then step over the body, doin’ the chris bosh shimmy on him!
south side!
south side, man! round! let’s get it!

[round 2: p-ss]
y’all wanna know what rhyme with “young kannon”? (what?)
f-ck you, n-gga…
the f-ck is a “young kannon”?
who keep on bringin’ these new wack shooters in?
it’s old-schoolers in oakland shootin’ a mac (mack): that’s max julien!
what the f-ck is a “young kannon”?
my n-gga said, “stay old-school wit’ the barrel, revolver, a pump-action”
one-man bandin’, your stick can’t hit when your drum jammin’
all black, holes in your clothes: that’s punk fashion!
dumb-ss! ain’t nowhere for that dunce cap when i’m done cappin’!
what kind of kannon!?
oh, you fire missiles? you wreckin’ n-ggas wit’ it?
nah, not that kind of kannon – only thing you projectin’ is a image
oh, yeah…
oh, what, y’all mad at this? too many “kannon” flips?
well, that’s cool, y’all lame for the stressin’
he called himself that: i’m just usin’ his name as a weapon!
now that’s a gun bar!
what, p-ss can’t do no gun bars, n-gga?
what y’all think? y’all really think that i’m very proper?
for the record, i don’t believe none of these n-ggas even carry choppers
that’s make-believe: harry potter
major league: barry bonds ya
you don’t know my life!
i been through sh-t, and i’m prepared for karma!
when my son was born, i had an ak under my bed, n-gga!
he wasn’t scared of monsters!
the f-ck!?
pat said to fight back…
my bad, i just got sidetracked…
i know you seen that one movie, and you ain’t like that
your life just like that spike lee joint – why’s that?
‘cause kannon (cannon) ain’t gettin’ no p-ssy in chi-raq
you from chicago, that’s no denyin’
where i’m from, it’s ultra-violent
y’all got a higher murder rate, that’s where you hold your pride in
lotta r.i.p.s in the o, but them soldiers ridin’
too many shots, it’s not a moment silent
you chicago n-ggas ain’t even known for shootin’ – y’all known for dyin’!
(what the f-ck!?, n-gga!? what’s happenin’!?
town mothaf-ckin’ business!
what up, url?)
homie lyin’!
end your sh-t with 60 shots: kobe bryant!
sh-t lock, we go to riot!
this ain’t a stepping stone! kick rocks!
you feelin’ bolder (boulder), try it!
man, these battle rap n-ggas always do this sh-t wit’ their fingers, thinkin’ they bustin’
ya man done!
that’s the closest that he ever gon’ get to a hand gun!
and what!?
these punches? bernard hopkins: i’ll knock you out wit’
false pop and jaw droppin’, you not about it
tubes in your mouth, you just talk boxin’: you roger troutman!
don’t act surprised!
it only take a second to -n-lyze
the writings on the wall show this vandal lies (vandalize)
it ain’t graze you, dude, it’s plain fatal, hit between kannon eyes
your name pedro, turn you into saint pedro: now he canonized!
the scope, but up close, it’ll burn you like it’s magnified
f-ck kannon! ain’t n0body duck kannon (canon) – who camera-shy?
aye, why these n-ggas wanna play me, and act like i ain’t been in all parts of this sh-t!?
i ain’t sayin’ i’m a gangsta, but i ain’t a sucka
i’ve seen it all, as hard as it gets
may be the pain distorted in the bars that he kicks
just know i’m like a stalker wit’ a restraining order
n-gga, i’m far from a b-tch!
i said, what you talkin’, n-gga?
what about yo’ mama, n-gga?
that slaw didn’t tell you it’d be days like this?
she know i’m from the town?
i’ll put that b-tch on a track and tell her, “we gettin’ paid like this!”
before i let the next n-gga hit my weed, i’ll let him take my b-tch
say some sh-t, i’ll beat ya face
look like i’m tryna break my fists
i don’t play-play
bay to l.a. for the payday
yo’ b-tch gon’ let me f-ck easy (eazy): this ain’t dre day
you gon’ get more than a scratch if that k (kay) slay
i should go to yo’ block in chicago and yell out, “tr3yway!”
aye, honestly, tekashi got me lookin’ at you chicago n-ggas like, “d-mn, somethin’ different”
it’s ironic: 6ix9ine (6-9) got y’all in that f-cked position!
that’s why you can’t kick it, karate kid!
you’d pull up to the hood for the fl!ck, then hop back in the whip faster than tekashi did
town business!

[round 2: young kannon]
now, it’s a d-mn shame that it’s yo’ grave they gon’ have to pour the hennessy on
you went from hollow da don to young kannon…
that mean i did somethin’ right, and you did everything wrong
i’ll let the semi burn ya
they shoulda let me k!ll you in traffic like biggie murder
how many learnin’, i design a (desiigner) hit: that’s “timmy turner”
how you lose to bishop brigante?
boy, you type wack!
he was mumblin’, you were stumblin’
i want all 24 minutes and 10 seconds of my life back!
you should pay me a deposit for watchin’ that battle
or i could hook your jaw and cause a light scr-p
soon as he turn, the (turner) b-tch gettin’ slapped: i’m bringin’ ike back
how long you been rappin’? still strugglin’ through rounds?
that ain’t how you school me to the sh-ts, bro
you low-key (loki) choked and died: that’s infinity war’s intro
i ain’t the type talker
carve my name in your face wit’ the knife on him
i caught p-ss flashy in the bay: white chocolate
all you do is rhyme a bunch of words, don’t say sh-t!
n-gga, they ain’t stupid!
put a message behind them bars: that’s a tr3yway sh-
put a message behind them bars: that’s a jpay shooter-
that’s a jpay user
we rollin’ wit’ 6 9s (6ix9ine): that’s a tr3yway shooter
blue tips, black talons, red rhinos
boy, i’ll hit p-ss wit’ flying colors like a straight-a student
i cause pressure, b-tch!
last time me and brizz hit the west coast, we was wreckin’ sh-t, effortless!
and you more emotional than any chick i know (chicano): it ain’t a mexican
squeeze shots
put p-ss in a coffin and flee cops
knock your frame three blocks when i pull up like the weed spot
i’m puttin’ you on smack, and takin’ you off smack
i’m your peer pressure and your detox
it’s cave sh-t! my team the greatest!
yeah, he a legend, but the new cl-ss been p-ssin’ up p-ss, and he seem to hate it
k!ll him wit’ egregious statements
if p-ss rockin’ jewels, the things is blazin’
i’m goin’ violent (violet) over gold like my team the lakers
walkin’ with a o and a ak: that’s your city abbreviated!
i seal the bullsh-t on your multisyllable sh-t
you gon’ be dyin’, hater
i k!ll a rival, turn initiation to a violation
you ain’t doin’ capers
you just reportin’ sh-t like ron magers
chopper, scope, bomb laser
see a mexican cleanin’ the crib wit’ the lens: i’m consuela!
tie both your kids up and blindfold ‘em, but won’t injure ‘em
then the mom met a (thermometer) stick in her mouth: i’m checkin’ temperatures
the squad mobbin’
this was yo’ fate, he prayin’ that god stop it
‘til he come home, find his wh0r-‘s (horse) head in the bed: it’s the godfather!
pick a side: you backpackin’, or gat-clappin’!?
boy, i will fly your d-mn roof
pistol-whip, until the metal break apart like iron man’s suit
last but not least, alex, i’ll spray him with steel, ‘til he lay in a field
‘cause death (def’) what p-ss do (past due), like real n-ggas payin’ the bills
that mean i’m finna murk you
they slept on me, but i’m out the shadows: that’s a ninja turtle
you had a run back then, but nowadays, you can’t hit the hurdles
ak, shoot a n-gga down, the clip’ll curve you
two straps, pointin’ on both sides: i hit the urkel!
don’t be in shock, g
i’ll leave a yuck mouth (yukmouth) if i bomb on you clowns
but the mac and .40 leave a numb skull (numskull) if i drew down (dru down)
claimin’ you sugar-free (suga free) can’t be legit (b-legit)
with the silencer, you ain’t reachin’ me
boy, i’m goin’ dumb wit’ the whisperer: that’s keak da sneak!
your career done ran its course
i’m just here to give you insight
your name on the cards no longer make the fans get hype
better stay in your crib like a hermit crab, or keep the grip tight
and he thought this would be a walk in the park…
yeah – macarthur after midnight!
these glocks explode, squeeze, pop, reload
i’m lettin’ the demon out, like tink got paroled
i got codeine in the clip
that mean your crew might lean
get popped in both your shoulders – make ya move like steams!
south side!

[round 3: p-ss]
i said, look, kannon…
i said, kanye west is the biggest n-gga to come up out chicago
and kanye west doesn’t give a f-ck about chicago
how’s that for karma?
i’ll put you and ya man in the sky: y’all travel partners
searchin’ for the holy grail, magna carta
yeah, smack got you up front to protect his top rappers
you only here to catch the ammo so his man can prosper
you on the front lines just to die
young kannon, you just cannon fodder!
you be battlin’ on them small leagues…every weeknight!
that don’t mess wit’ your pride?
you get booked ‘cause you work hard for the cheap price
must be your mexican side
when you step out ya b-tch apartment…i’m steppin’ inside
movin’ on up through the door in my drawers, doin’ the george jefferson slide, n-gga
aye, nice jersey, n-gga
but i’m from the home of the real black panther
not wakanda, but where huey and bobby had that plan measured, to fight the man’s pressure
you don’t gotta be t’challa to get stripped of your power, then get sent off to talk to your ancestors!
i said, face the facts!
this real-life beef? you not made for that!
i know, because k-shine knocked your man out
all you did was get on stage and rap!
you lame for that!
these battle rap n-ggas all lame and square
who they comparin’?
they all sayin’ the same thing – who ain’t apparent?
had to leave that dumb sh-t alone, that became apparent
been had young’uns wit’ the sh-t before i became a parent
your life a joke!
i’m hyper-focused, the pipe is close
a small hit’ll f-ck you up: this a microdose
what you runnin’ for?
you duck it, i’m on the hunt for more
you call the time, i run the board
you draw the line, you underscore (_)
you done had that name for a while now, but it’s run the course
you been young kannon for 10 years, n-gga…you ain’t young no more
ayo, honestly, url out here throwin’ this stress at me
smack, you know i’m a vet
you should be throwin’ some vets at me
but it’s cool, i know how this machine work: yeah, i’m tech-savvy
you got destroyed in yo’ hometown
you need to come correct at me
k-shine spanked you in yo’ backyard, n-gga: he yo’ step-daddy!
neck-snapped him, a bedsheet that your head wrapped in
a chicago n-gga k!lled in his home: you fred hampton!
oh, you from the south side!?
well, that’s where you’ll get planted
knocked out in the south, pause, (southpaws) like i’m left-handed!
what you wanna fight for!?
i know you don’t like war
you’ll be a half-machine cyborg life form
you look like the chubby n-gga from desus & mero…what you hype for!?
you on the couch runnin’ ya mouth
your type more viceland than vice lord, n-gga
man, this sh-t is overk!ll!
you’ll get flamed up like an open grill
you not a bear in chicago – you don’t give me that soldier feel (soldier field)
look at this poor dude
i bet if yo’ b-tch on the block, she’ll top 10 like sports news
your top get twisted and popped: he get corkscrewed
y’all don’t wanna see me fire on kannon (cannon): i already got a short fuse
now, look, this poetic justice
he thinkin’ he lucky? this n-gga jokin’
‘cause chicago get his -ss beat and left on the side of the road tryna get to oakland
town mothaf-ckin’ business, n-gga! let’s go!

[round 3: young kannon]
another poetic justice chicago/lucky line…
boy, that sh-t gettin’ wack
‘cause i am chicago
i ain’t brushin’ the fade: it’s just this (justice) b-tch gettin’ slapped
wait a minute-
you still here, n-gga? well, this the round where i bury you, son
talk that bay sh-t to me, i ain’t new to this
i done lived in various slums on the south side, where you gotta carry a gun
you just rapped about black panthers to me
you made fun of money bagz, sayin’ he was a white boy tryna be black
he called bigg k a klan member
well, i’m darin’ you, bum!
all this righteous bullsh-t he spewin’, white racist talk-
why you went and got married to one?
wait a minute!
you old “my milk of mag-ne-sia!” lookin’–ss n-gga!
i ain’t judgin’ yo’ taste in women
but growin’ a beard, portrayin’ that muslim sh-t is a scary sight
how the f-ck you praise allah, but dive into white meat every night?
spittin’ them candy bars, and still couldn’t chew wit’ ness lee (nestle)
don’t get in your feelings now
you ain’t do sh-t when both your kids got dissed by jeffrey
now time-out, ‘cause dissin’ kids outside this ring is cornball sh-t
my circle, we ain’t havin’ that
mentioning a n-gga’s seeds can get you k!lled in my habitat
i say that to say this…
that man talked about your wife and kids, and you ain’t have enough guts in your weak–ss stomach to go and have a scr-p!?
no, he told avocado, went and got him banned from battle rap
that’s p-ssy sh-t!
now, avocado, this ain’t a diss to you
i ain’t tryna ruin your day, but you roll wit’ a stupid f-ck
i ain’t tellin’ you to run up on a cracker and let the ruger buck
but d-mn, catch him outside the event and tune him up!
but you p-ssy, scared to fade the white boy: that’s supercuts
but it makes sense, he been soft-shoein’ for them for years
caustic called you a “moolie” to your face, and you ain’t do sh-t!
he treated you like a lame!
six years on the platform! never got a shot at the chain!
but y’all call him a real n-gga – why!?
‘cause he spit conscious and try to rap like one!?
brrrr! brrrr! brrrr!
you should get hit wit’ my uncle tom’ since you act like one!
i just came here to stack a body and up my pay
and now i’m bombin’ ya
f-ck the next cl-ss!
i’m here to check p-ss: that’s a hall monitor
what he gon’ say?
“you ain’t never been on summer madness!”
but still, wit’ the pen, he wise (pennywise): i’m a clown-k!ller
i’d rather be in the field wit’ the smack n-ggas, than be a kotd house n-gga!
they had me confused!
they had me fooled!
i thought you was the one that ran wit’ the blikky!
they had me fooled, like you was the man in they city!
but now the bay watch you get soft like pam anderson t-tties!
you dyin’ as is!
somethin’ yelling from the back: it ain’t ad-libs
teachers’ lounge: mad sigs (cigs)
little 9, let the baby crack her (cracker): that’s p-ss kids
alexander jenney is the donkey of the day
no need to pin the tail
this n-gga frail, i extend a sh-ll
they don’t want me takin’ these (knees) in the field like the nfl
i’m over-raged!
you a oakland great? nah, just a n-gga they overrate
gym star, leave an open face
i’m lookin’ for smoke: this a mortal kombat bonus stage
you tried to send for me?
now you an opp’ now, enemy
my only challenge my inner me
you a lil’ dog: that’s a pekingese
i’m a ghetto boy (geto boy): willie d
who you mean-muggin’?
i cl!ck and squeeze, lift the piece, you’ll be a mystery
take over the ship like amistad, buncha bullets in the barrel yellin’, “give us free!”
n-gga, please!
my type stamped for the paper: i bring the war to marks (watermarks)
you in a pool if i slide through like a waterpark
you dead stinkin’
he got beat on the block the first time, came back, and got fed ninas
pretty ricky, dr. dre
one lay ya body down, the other one keep ya head ringin’!
i’m sayin’, lil’ n-gga, i don’t play like this
i grind 24/7, every day like this
and i know you figured he wouldn’t get slayed like this
but your mama shoulda told you it’d be days like this!
south side!

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