Project Pat - Goon’d Up (ft. Bankroll Fresh)

Goon’d Up Lyrics

[Round 1: Dizaster]

You guys know what rhymes with ‘I should’ve been the king in the first place?’

Spittin’ in Eurgh’s face

Congratulations Pat, you turned us into holy believers

You retrieved an item and came back from war

With bullet holes in your t-shirt

If life was like football

This faggot would catch a bullet for me like an open receiver

But you didn’t have to go and do research

I gave you a dead body you owe this to team work

So no matter how you look at it you’re not my opponent

I’m more like your leader

So I told Pat, ‘Stay! Now go fetch it for me like a fuckin’ Golden Retriever’

I mean I gave you a dead body

Before the battle started it was already done

Anybody could’ve beat Cane that day

Mr. Conspiracy could of walked on to the stage and farted on him and won

But when you first meet Pat he actually seems cool ‘til you catch him at the club

Drunk as fuck tellin’ Jamaican dudes how much he loves African people

He’s a racist, you can’t escape it, your actions are see-through

You’re destined, being Anglo-Saxon is in ya family gene pool

You shoot ‘roids in ya ass through the same package and needles

Hollohan used on his back when he tatted the Eagle

Ain’t no way on earth this matchup is equal

My thought process will completely collapse ya cerebral

Dizaster is evil like havin’ a Catholic Cathedral attached to the back of a Preschool

‘Yo I’m the man for the throne, the champ gotta go

His name’s Pat cause he Stay’s in the back of his home

Cause he’s afraid if he leaves he’ll get attacked by Charron

Attacked by Charron, attacked by Charron’

Man if I said you were scared of the dude

Then it would be an understatement

My bad I almost pushed you, he probably would’ve punched my face in

The same way he tells people at the club

How he’ll get drunk and crush their frame in

Until Charron walks up and he tucks his chain in

Why you even wearin’ that shit? Ah, you’re not even wearin’ that shit

Since you’ve had it, no one has even seen you with it on

No one has seen you at all, zero appearances for King Of The Dot

Man you didn’t even have the decency in you to give us an at least three minute blog

Fuck it, he doesn’t talk to his fans on Twitter cause he thinks

Well, on Twitter he’s too G to be on

But a real man is a real man no matter what social media he’s on

See these people are drawn to you cause they think that you strong

But they don’t know you’re an insecure little bitch

Who sees their comments, keeps readin’ along cause he’s such an introverted child he won’t even respond

See we thought you were a Golden Retriever, we’re wrong

You’re just a little CNI Dog

And we were blind to the fact you were leadin’ us on

But this is the part, I called him Golden Retriever

Cause when I said retrieve it was immediately gone

So I speak to him like he’s my dog

It’s only right I’m the king and I put it in his ear like Cesar Millan

Listen here you cocksucker

I called you out in 2010 and back then you were a lot younger

You were like a brand new phone, no contact on you so I called you up

You didn’t show up like a blocked number

Now you in the eye of the storm, witness that raw thunder

I’m using the site of your average as motivation to make up for lost hunger

I do a driveby and ya Godmother hop out of a crop duster

With 11 Arabic dudes armed with box cutters

Fuck around and make me have to pass the Tommy Gun to Marge brother

And you better hope it d-d-d-d-does not stutter

Ya homie on the block tryin’ to be the number one block stunner

He try to floss then he’ll get laser beamed for those flashy glasses

If the faggot acts like Scott Summers

You and your bitch can die and you’ll make the news like Tom Tucker

Let me teach you how to actual do a scheme

I’ll show up to Alexander King’s factory

[unclear]… backed with an automatic tool with me

[unclear]…clappin’ an Uzi at everythin’ that randomly moves

‘Til I turn the avenue into a Los Santos shootin’ spree

I’m Franklin with a Kalashnikov at your family eulogy

Open fire like…[unclear]…on the Halifax community

You could be a bear, cat, lion, rhino, Pat that would be cool with me

Cause when I Rap I act as if I’m pullin’ an act of animal cruelty

Watch Lassie get neutered and then hand me my jewelry

Yeah, I’m a twisted Arab, being a psychopath isn’t new to me

I move like an Android, I’m an animal fused between

A catalyst while passin’ it through the genes

I’m not even an actual human being

I’m a walkin’ Hannibal movie scene

My thoughts form like Inception, walls around me

Collapse while I’m strapped to a huge machine

Rapidly maneuver the room full of changin’ gravity

Telepathically movin’ things makin’ the ground crack beneath me

Like Leonardo DiCaprio trapped in a lucid dream

And a fact to you it seems

I been known to knock whiteheads out like acne removal cream

If it wasn’t for this battle with you and me

No one would give a fuck about you like Cassidy’s new CD

And people who should’ve watched my battles online either

They could pass away from actually viewin’ me

Sit alone in you livin’ room, lights go out

Then I flash your computer screen

You see static then die a week later

Like what happens when you view The Ring

That’s how you do the scheme

Yeah, fuck around, yeah get rid of that gangsta vibe

You ain’t from the dark side of the Dartmouth you’re from the safer side

Where the neighbors are always waving hi

And when you walk away they even say ‘Goodbye’

Since you out scale me in weight and size

I’m someone you’re not afraid to try, but that’s fake shit, why?

When you were nice with Math like an Asian guy

Yeah, I battled Arsonal and violated his space like 180 times

But when you battled him you kept complainin’ and walkin’ away

Like this is a waste of time

Funny how he’s from Grape but he stomped you and made you wine

Like a little bitch, you’re known to run away from fights

You never throw the scrap down

Goin’ through the security at the airport is the only time you ever see Pat down

And this the end, so just go off and deny it

Threatened to us all you’ll retire and just go do a blog of you cryin’

You have the body size of Goliath but what good is havin’ body size

If you don’t have the heart of a Lion

Even though he’s taller than me, he’ll always be smaller than I am

This is like Wrestlemania 1, watchin’ Hulk Hogan beat the fuck out of Andre The Giant



[Round 1: Pat Stay]

I fell right into his trap ya’ll, he got me, I admit it

As you can tell I agreed to do long ass rounds and I don’t know why I did it

So I hope ya’ll did ya’ll stretches today cause it might be a wise decision

We’ll probably have full-grown beards by the time we’re finished

Ain’t no thing to me, I just feel bad for the crowd

Could be at home watchin’ a damn movie relaxin’ right now

By the time he gets into through about half his round

You’ll be in the part in Titanic where DiCaprio drowns

Wait, wait, I know that’s not exactly how he died

Just figured I’d save us some time and state that

Cause if I didn’t he would of rebuttaled it like

‘Actually he froze pussy, and his name is Jack’

Aye but this is just a spar, a scrimmage

From start to finish imma make it hard to live with

Like a heart condition for this narcissistic mark this

Isn’t a smart decision I kick it hard as

Mixed martial artists, twist his arm ‘til it’s hard to fix him

Like a car when the part is missin’

When you start the engine with the spark ignition, here’s a parkin’ ticket

Mark a target, I marked my target, I’m a marksman

Sharp precision, an artist with the led, Charles Dickens

Pick ‘em from the furthest distance, it’s hard to miss ‘em

Who startin’ shit? You ain’t startin’ shit, you ain’t sparkin’ shit

You wouldn’t spark my interest

Get your bitch involved, I even target women

When I bust this cap it’ll let her like how you start a sentence

Capital letter, start a sentence, suck a dick

I’m on a whole other level, a stone to a pebble

Sell my soul to the devil, I’m a rebel

This Nova Scotia no coma toast if I throw a blow in December

He’ll be gone ‘til November

See that tough guy shit won’t work on me dawg, they don’t buy it man

Like hair that’s all over hair you lyin’ man

Please test me, you’ll get these fists of fury ‘til my hands tired

Light you up under the chin like a story by the campfire

Aye, remember when we was in Sweden and you slapped buddy?

Ya’ll gotta hear this story, shit was mad funny

Yeah yeah, you got your scuffle threw your little slap

Made a big old dramatic scene then said, ‘Pat get my back’

I stood beside him and had his back, shit I still do

But I ain’t lyin’ that shit you pulled outside was real smooth

The lil’ dude told him, ‘Well let’s take this around the corner on the right’

He pulled this one, ‘Fuck you, fuck ya’

Translation, ‘I don’t wanna fight’

The cops show up from all the commotion he caused

Cause he was too scared to fight dude

And The Saurus I hate to bring you up in this bro cause I like you

But they start talkin’ to cops like, ‘He pushed this girl, he did this, he did that’

Where I’m from that makes you a couple fuckin’ squealin’ rats

We don’t talk to police, especially when you start the fight

I’m a different breed dawg, you just a bitch who got more bark than bite

And if I am a Golden Retriever it’s only cause people believed your lies

So I am a CNI Dog cause I’m here to lead the blind

So slap me, I’d smack your little fuckin’ mouth off

Bitch I’ll punch you so damn hard, muthafucker I’ll drop

I busted a dudes skull with a fuckin’ hundred pound rock

The noises he made from the brain damage was sickenin’

Then the sound stopped

I let my emotions get the best of me, sometimes I think I’m emotionless

I just stood over my homies open casket crackin’ jokes and shit

Laughing, pokin’ ‘em

Maybe I’m crazy, maybe it’s how I cope with it

But what’s weird is I cried ‘til the tears smeared my rhymes for ‘em when I wrote the shit

But whatever you do never confuse emotional with weak

I’ll slit ya throat with tears rollin’ down my cheek

Try to make a joke out of me you better leave both eyes open when you sleep

And somethin’ close enough to reach

Cause the last six months of my life I been fucked bro

You think I’m worried about rap?

The next tear that rolls down my face might turn into a permanent tat

You’re a fuckin’ fake spoiled rich suburban brat

When you spray Febreze you probably turn it like this and squirt it like that

And you know what’s somethin’ weird about you that I never understood?

Why do you lie and try to deny that you got it good?

As if you’re ashamed and that it’s cooler to be from the hood

You got it fucked up dawg, oh I get it

You just tryin’ to fit in with the homies right?

In your backyard with your gangster friends bettin’ on pony fights

Your own friends said it

You went from a backpacker to Juggalo to raver to angry gangster

Probably got a picture of Project Pat as your fuckin’ screensaver

Must be nice when you have no bills and Drake’s your neighbor

But that’s some shit I’m gon’ save for later

Time!



[Round 2: Dizaster]

You’re right, I do have Project Pat as my screensaver

That’s still way better than havin’ a Charron lookin’ teenager

This muthafuckers always tryin’ to put his hand on his leg

Charron’s a dope emcee he should get a battle with you without havin’ to beg

Next time you wanna extend a hand out to him

Why don’t your faggot ass just give him a battle instead?

What happened with you and Jeff? I’ll tell you

He had an agreement with him, yeah this cat is a fraud

You had an agreement with him not to spit that

But you switched back on your promise with him and you went back on it all

You had a big pact with him not have no bitch-ass-ness involved

And you said, ‘Please, come on Jeff, no personal bars

We don’t wanna bring up the past and the things that we saw’

And he agreed cause he didn’t wanna take advantage of it all

And you only did that durin’ his biggest match

Where you can catch him off guard

Cause you weren’t man enough to address the topic

When the big cameras are off

That shit was so bad even Mike Vick called Calicoe like

‘Yo I can’t believe he did that to his dawg’

You learned a lot from Jeff, he helped your bitch ass evolve

And you evolved into a scientologist

Absorbed all the knowledge you were fathered with

And used it to spit back at God

Turned your back on him, left him in the middle of a massive brawl

Six months passed couldn’t even give him back a call

Cause all the juicin’ in the gym his nuts started to shrink back their so small

He’s walkin’ around Scotia with a bag of Tic Tacs for some balls

Jeff should’ve smacked the piss out of you

Like he did to Step Easy when they were in the bathroom stall

I seen it happen all, sniff that cause it’s raw

Raw like the impact of a fist against a big cats grill when his chin cracks

As a result of being the biggest dude where he lives at

So he’s never been in a real scrap at all

I bet if I tipped ya head over, ya big ass would fall

Just a big fat Neanderthal

You ain’t about action, you haven’t been tradin’ ya jab in

Cause you been too busy chasin’ the dragon

Like Goku when didn’t have the Balls

I’m serious, listen up Patrick Wah

These kids come out the side of their neck

They’re gettin’ their shit snap like Benoit

Yeah serious shit Pat, you want ripped abs?

I could give you a 24-hour fitness membership to a gym class tomorrow

But I’d rather get rid of ya skin fat when I go across ya six pack

With a retractable claw so the next time you have a Big Mac

Your big bitch ass will have to sip that through a straw

You dumb fuck, tried to rebuttal the Golden Retriever shit

But when I called you Golden Retriever

You should’ve taken it as a compliment

Cause all Golden Retriever dogs

Were blessed with the logic and the common sense

Not to betray the friend that they’re bonded with

You’re not a Golden Retriever you’re more like a dishonest pit

A half-breed, a mutt, that was probably mixed

And the only doggy tricks it was taught was this

And that’s backstabbin’ a person in the back it was brought up with

Eat a doggy dick, eat a fuckin’ doggy dick

Fuck a body bag, I’ll put you in a doggy bag and mop your shit

Talk about I’m the rat when his best friend shit gets real

That’s how the pig will squeal

Jeff told him

‘Are you sure you’re not gonna mention anything in this battle Pat?’

He told him, ‘Trust me, lips are sealed’

That’s why this rat should fry, he’s a rapper from Scotia

Of course he’ll bring up stuff that’s classified

Who’s had your back more than Jeff out of all of these battle guys?

Exactly, you can’t reply and that is why Pat should die

Cause you killed your only dog like the screenwriters from Family Guy

And if you think about it, Jeff is a lot like Family Guy’s dog Brian

Cause he’s always barkin’ and cryin’ every time a black guys walks by him

I promised you I wouldn’t bring up shit in this battle

And I wouldn’t cross the line

But there’s a little thing that I wanted to talk about, that’s fine

Stop denying, I put this on my Mom’s life, I am not lyin’

You were at a show in Scotia

Got socked while you were on the stage on the spot rhymin’

You went outside, started wildin’

Fuck around and got punched and you took off flyin’

And left ya little homie behind so he could get stomped by them

I swear to God all this stuff is true

His little fuckin’ homie got fucked up and sent to the hospital

If he would’ve died that night, you would’ve been responsible

You pulled a fuckin’ card and made your younger homie squab for you

He thought Pat would Stay but instead you walked away

And turned you back on him the same way you did to Arsonal

So stop tellin’ me you sucka free

When you don’t even believe it yourself

You’re big but you got the self-esteem of an elf

Time after time you leave your people behind

While they’re screamin’ for help

So when I seen you leave Arsonal alone in the ring spittin’ schemes by himself

All I could think of is, ‘Damn, history has a strange way of repeatin’ itself!’

It’s over ya gone, ya dead broke, I know you don’t have a job

You’re back livin’ at home with your Mom

Tell them Mr. Sucka Free, you don’t pay no rent now

I can’t believe I get to say this to somebody, this all makes sense now

Always talkin’ about some bullshit, that’s why he’s getting’ embarrassed

Sharin’ a therapist with, shut up bitch you live with your parents

Like you’re gonna clap whom?

He brushes his teeth every mornin’ and he comes out of his bathroom

With his Mom standin’ right there at the door like

‘Okay honey, here’s your vacuum’

Trust me you’ve never been sucker free

I know for a fact your homies told me you were a Paper Boy ‘til you were 23

A Paper Boy, like a boss that’s not even part of your nature

How are you a boss when you don’t got any paper?

And if you do it’s cause you’re drivin’ by strollin’ your little retarded bike

And you’re about to toss it to your neighbors

A fuckin’ Paper Boy Pat that’s worse than office labor

Of course you don’t got no job

You’re back at home in you Mama’s trailer bottled up all this anger

You’re an in-the-closet racist with black bodies hangin’ from his closet hanger

TV paused Kramer so he can leave, come back and then watch it later

You claim you not a racist but both you squares got burned like a waffle maker

Do us all a favor, stop lookin’ like a fuckin’ Neo-Nazi Army Ranger

Because of you your homies life is in constant danger

You’re not a Saint, Patrick, you’re more like a fallen angel

You can’t call God your savior you Judas at the Prophets traitor

Yeah, the Prophets Traitor

He exposed how you never been in a fight at all you faker

You’ve never seen contact like broads who get optic lasers

I’ll run a number on your hood like a sponsored racer

I’ll show up to your block take the white like a chalk eraser

I’m like a Boston strangler with the heart of a Toronto hockey player

In the ring I’m like Muhammad Ali crossed with Frazier

Sock you and knock out your jaw retainer

So hard it’ll drop you and your boxin’ trainer

And have him in the background lookin’ like a fuckin’ Harlem shaker

And I still didn’t use “Doppelganger,” “Martian Crater,” “Coffee Maker”

“Condom Flavor,” “Arbitrator,” “Margilator”

Someone tell Bender, I’m sorry player



[Round 2: Pat Stay]

Ya’ll ready? That was dope, give it up

But wait, you got it fucked up

I’m not like you, I don’t live with my Mom, faggot

And I wasn’t a Paper Boy, I don’t know what the fuck he’s sayin’

But wait let me guess

You got a bunch of photocopied copies of my paychecks?

That were sent through PayPal

Then you’re gonna start handing out all the statements?

I heard you sent a lot of dick pics to hoes online

Aye, I ain’t mad at you dawg, so do I

Difference is though when they click his they roll their eyes

Then open mine and have to use that lil’ scroll on the side

Straight up don’t leave your bitch with me for the night

I’m servin’ up a love drug I be feedin’ her right

All girth, his girl wanted to see what it’s like

She said it was out of this world, you know, a little meatier right?

Fuck I’m cool as shit, you need to relax, you’re too stiff let loose a bit

Drop ya neck, roll your shoulders, start doin’ this

Ya lookin’ like a goddam lunatic

Remember how I beat Hollohan and schooled the kid?

Smooth and slick, make it look like the dude was pissed

Well imma use the same formula I used on him

And show you how my style’s his diffusal kit

Check it, see you wild but I got more style than you

I’m so nice my Rap name should be “How Are You?”

So funky when I spit, every sec I sniff

Like check my kicks like I stepped in shit

If this a ball game, I’m Lebron James

Bow, from long range, all day

Yeah, the white Snoop Dogg’s back

Invade yo territory and moonwalk back, bitch

It’s so effortless, no pressure it’s nothin’ I don’t sweat the shit

Clothes fresh, Rolex, gold necklace

Sex machine battery sold separate

You got the fuckin’ swag of an old catchers mitt

And rap like you think we on the floor wrestlin’

Cold steppin’ since ’07 been wreckin’ it, watch, I’m so dexterous

I flip flows just like this, yo check this shit

Murder for hire late night burglarizer

I creep the streets and old ladies grip their purses tighter

Mark McGwire with the bat, split your wig in half swing it so fast

I make fitted caps turn to visors

I blackout all I hear is screams and a churches choir

Walkin’ through a circle of burnin’ fire like a circus tiger

Tie ya to a furnace emergin’ gas

Blast the thermostat ‘til the wires in the circuits fried

Slide a burnin’ match then turn it higher

You’re playin’ checkers on a chessboard

Planko with Connect Four

Your hype but it takes away from what you write it’s a double-edged sword

I’m versatility and it’s 100% pure form

I flip styles, missile, get down, see look what I just did now

This round imma just smack this bitch round

Like Chris Brown, like sit down

Like, who’s the Golden Retriever in this shit now?

Now watch this how, I spin round, back to that shit about Chris Brown

I make history on this stage

Big as hits to Rihanna’s face with the fist pound

I’m a brick house, with ya bitch with my dick out

She went like this, wow

I went like this she went like this ouch

You get your bang on with the chain on huh? I second-guess it

He just talks out his ass like Ace Ventura: Pet Detective

You say you fucked Scarlett Pain? That couldn’t be less impressive

I’ll respect it when you fuck Rachel Starr or Alexis Texas

Yeah he was givin’ her that “Sexual Healing”

You know, “Expressin’ his feelings”

Yeah kissin’ all in the hoe’s mouth

When she just sucked Lexington Steele’s dick

Bet she didn’t feel shit

Why you don’t date Lebanese girls like you, Bashir?

It’d be too competitive over who’d have the coolest beard

Your Mom had so much pubic hair it’s her goddamn computer chair

And the men are all control freaks

Go shoppin’ for somethin’ new to wear

And won’t even let their wives leave the house unless they’re rockin’ fuck scuba gear

I went to hang at his place, his Pops said, ‘Come in’

Told his wife, ‘Go make him a steak, don’t make a mistake’

She said, ‘What? Do I or do I not make him a steak?’

He said, ‘Did I make a mistake?’ Kicked the bitch right in the face

Here’s the real question

Why do all your conversations sound like you’re yelling at each other?

How is GHAKAGHAKLAGHA telling her you love her?

You 12-different-colognes-at-once-smellin’ mutha fucker

How the hell can you tell which one smells better than the other?

Now wait, now I might’ve just fucked up my Lebanese connects back home but I don’t care

From now on if I wanna order a doner i’ll just use my neighbors phone and have it go there

And to end this off just to fuck up his flip so he can't rebuttal my shit

Diss my moonwalk right now if you ever sucked a guys dick, time!



[Round 3: Dizaster]

I thought you were sucka free

Why are you askin’ who fuckin’ dissed me? Stop tryin’ to be like me

You wanna fuckin’ diss Arabic people you fuckin’ worthless bitch?

You could suck a fuckin’ Persian dick

You wanna make up fuckin’ Arabic jokes you little worthless bitch?

You can suck a fuckin’ Persian dick

You’re such a fuckin’ racist, you ain’t even wearing the chain

Cause it’s not long enough to hang a black person with

That’s who you are cause you belong in the sewer with the rest of the rats

In a room with a plaque on the wall and a gold medal attached

That says, ‘I exposed Jeff for his tats’

This guy, I learned he’s the real racist and I learned a lesson from that

Everything he said about Jeff in his past is only a reflection of Pat’s

See he’s just a white supremacist trash Methonist stash

Yelawolf has incredible tracks Redneck with a mask

Who tucked in all of his confederate flag so he can get acceptance from Blacks

How fuckin’ pathetic is that?

Like he fuckin’ dissed his boy for a fuckin’ bitch that he sexed in his past

But that’s probably from the same bitch Devenue smashed

I bet if you got an STD check up right now your test wouldn’t pass

Jeff might be the one with the genital rash

But you’re the one on deck with the crabs

So sex with your ass would’ve been her deadliest catch

And if I fuck on my bitch and you find out and it’s mentioned in your Raps

You better not use your pen and tell her

Cause if you do I’ll put your head and legs in a cast and have ‘em severed in half

Bars, compare that to the shit he says when he Raps

He attacks quicker than an African Serval Cat, wack

First of all it’s serval not sever-al, how pathetic is Pat?

And second of all if you’re gonna beat me you’re gonna need an animal better than that

Everybody knows that Pat’s cool

Until you see him and he goes to dap you

Extends his hand and then he’s like a ho and slaps you

Some shit that only fags do

He picks up his opponent mid battle and throws his ass

Licks his lips then he goes to grab you

Sticks his fingers in your ears then flicks your nose and then shoulder taps you

And he does that to damn near every opponent that he Raps to

Unless he goes against a Black dude

And you already known that the facts true

Shit they even felt bad for that line that they won’t react to

But we can tell you that you’ve become positive just like a Pastor at a Holy Chapel

If you just scroll back to the verses that you wrote for Matthew

He wants to be from America so bad, all the stuff’s true

He thinks he’s from the West Coast, what a mark, he’s a dumb goof

He bumpin’ songs from Pac and Kurupt, Snoop

Mobbin’ down the block bustin’ his air soft Glock from the sun roof

With Hollohan ridin’ shotgun smokin’ black tar through some random lightbulb that they unscrewed

Dumb & Dumber ass clowns fuckin’ up the whole spot when they come through

They’ll never save Gotham

Havin’ ‘em both on the job is like havin’ two Robins in one group

You said you wouldn’t spit personal bars, I didn’t trust you

Cause that’s the art of war and I’m the one that taught him to Sun Tzu

So you can be Bruce Lee if you want to

Cause if you Bruce Lee then I’m Ip Man the guy that taught him his Kung Fu

The guy that taught him his Kung Fu

Be cautious I walk as God amongst you, you’re my apostle

I’ll sock you ‘til the words come off you like a crossword puzzle

Pop ya thought process bubble so hard you’ll see stairs like hubble

Which makes sense cause every time your squads in trouble

You take off like an Apollo shuttle

But that’s real life shit Pat, those are bars you cannot rebuttal

I bet if my animals ran through ya house right now you would book it like Jumanji’s jungle

Always runnin’ away from fights, you already know it’s your thing

All remember from your Arsonal battles you try to run and take cover

Standin’ there for a fuckin’ hour saying, ‘Pat Stay is a sucker, Pat Stay is a sucker’

And I know ya’ll had two rounds and you weren’t prepared for another

But what made the thing worse was watchin’ two grown men in the ring that are scared of each other

See most rappers would make excuses

And duck out of battles or why they ain’t travelin’

But Pat’s worse than that

You’ll fuckin’ duck out of a battle while it’s actually happening

It’s not about a paper agreement Pat, it’s a manhood thing

You should never back down from someone who’s challengin’ ya manhood

If it happens then you scrap or swing

See rappers, we like boxers, it’s the same exact fuckin’ thing

As a champion there’s a level of command you have to have in the ring

You not a true champ if you can walk away and turn your back while a challenger swings

And that’s exactly why you don’t deserve to be Canada’s King

You had a bunch of funny shit, I spit real shit

What fans do you actually bring?

You don’t even have a champion’s legacy

Five judged battles in his whole career

He shouldn’t even be standin’ here next to me

Technically his Rap sheet is blank, Canibus memory

Yeah, you have fans Pat

But you don’t know what it’s like to have any enemies

You don’t know what it’s like to balance the backstabbers and jealousy

And have to walk around in real life like it isn’t actually affecting me

That’s why I use this stage for these fans to connect with me

Show him who I am and that’s a man of integrity

You’re nice outside of battles but you always attack people so recklessly

But one day the nice guy gon’ come out the shadows eventually

And until then Fresco is more of a man than you’ll ever be

You don’t even have an identity

You’re just a big happy angry sad faggot

That doesn’t even make sense to me

You’re the only dude on the court with no balls

You’re a basketball referee

You have the swagger of Arnold Schwarzenegger when he was havin’ a pregnancy

Him and Patrick both are bi they like takin’ paddleboats for rides

That’s where they go and tan on the ocean side

That’s where Patrick opens wide and lets him splash his load inside

And that’s not being gay at all ya’ll that’s called having Scotian pride

You’re a murk, what a fuckin’ weirdo

Leavin’ all your people behind, just a little fuckin’ weeny

Ripped to make his limbs tear from his feet

Beat him with a fuckin’ big pair of cleats

He just a big scary freak with a Ric Flair physique

But you been scared of beef

Ever since you went there with Jeff and let shit air in the street

You hustled with him for too long to let him sit there and get beat

So what I’m tryin’ to say is you could’ve been there at least

Instead what you do? Upload footage of you eatin’ a sandwich on your toilet as you sit there in ya seat

Which doesn’t surprise me anymore Pat cause you’ve been known to shit where you eat

Stop givin’ me that mean face, don’t be the next emcee that I cremate

Lay off the ecstasy, slam on your fuckin’ E brake

You haven’t improved at anythin’ since the elements league

Just methamphetamines, I’m done messin’ with you fiends

A combination of multiple drug addicts

Living life through the eyes of one faggot like Requiem For A Dream

Stop fuckin’ distractin’ me, this shit is not what it seems

I’m fuckin’ up now, I have to end it with somethin’ crazy

Fuck it, I don’t know what to do, these people are talking during my shit

Fuckin’ it up, fuck

Catch a fuckin’ uppercut, your Mother is a slut

Fuck I don’t never even done this before but I have to do it right now

I got Buddhist type wisdom

You’ll walk away from it all if it don’t make no sense

That’s Jewish guy syndrome

You try to run away, I lock you down with these 16’s like a Juvenile prison

His crew decide to ride, then his crew can die with him

Get crucified with him, the only chances of you survivin’ are breathin’ through a tube like you were scuba divin’

And no one will be there to view you died like suicide victims

[unclear]…if I choose to fight with him, it’s like gettin’ Hadouken’d by Ryu and Ken, I’ll…[unclear]…kick him

And every move that I hit him

Will leave him with a pupil missin’ from his eye

Like students in school who try ditchin’

It’s not a movie script, when I leave this dude with blind vision

I’ll remove your eye quicker than Uma Thurman

When she killed the dude who tried switchin’

I will kill and leave him with two of his eyes missin’

I hate this shit!



[Round 3: Pat Stay]

He said I had a Ric Flair physique, true

That’s why girls see me walk by they say, ‘Woo!’

See he choked and pulled out his phone to see it

That was some pathetic shit

You just proved that you can only beat me with a phone on some Joe Pesci shit

Yo when I see you spinnin’ around and swingin’ around and runnin’ around curlin’ I’m thinkin’

‘Damn, this guy must beat the shit out of his girlfriend’

I mean damn boy, you like a Motorola phone cause you the first one to flip like you on M androids

Never stops movin’ is like something’s wrong with his nervous system

And he ruins every picture he’s in cause he’s always blurry in them

Like, why so serious?

We was supposed to battle in August but he moved it to the end of January

That’s how much of a queer he is

Clammy palms sweatin’ profusely and he just can’t stop

Every time you give the man props you gotta wipe your hand off

I seen him before the battle comin’ at me lookin’ all happy with his hand like this

I tried to avoid it and gave him the hammer fist and he gave me the trailer hitch

Aye I bet he’s the most intense person to every play video games with

Eyebrows bouncin’ everywhere makin’ the most ridiculous faces

All into it bitin’ his lips lookin’ like a fuckin’ serial rapist

And his whole body turns with the controller when he steers when he’s racin’

Definite button master and your controller he’s gettin’ carried away with

And he beats you every game cause you keep peekin’ away from the screen scared that he’ll break it

You don’t know how serious he takes it, you hit the sack now it’s only him

Tryin’ to sleep and all you hear is him on the headset like

‘Cover me, I’m goin’ in’

Aye wait, they said

‘Pat you can’t beat him with jokes you gotta match this guys intensity’

I said, ‘Why? What you mean how fast he rhymes and everything?

All that rapid fire delivery, how he act all wild and yell and scream?’

It just sounds cool, he got the crowd fool they’re just distracted by his energy

See Organik wasted paper on him, shouldn’t be promotin’ his ass

It’s not Fair Trade, cause lately everythin’ D composes is trash

Now I ain’t even gonna run that back

But did you find those kind of relatable? I’ll break it down quickly

His bio’s degradable

Bro, do you know what I’ve done for King Of The Dot?

You really think you’re more valuable than me?

You do? Do you understand the impact that me versus Hollohan had on this league?

Goin’ on about how much you care about the chain just beggin’ for people’s attention

But when we needed you the most, you treated it like a joke and couldn’t even defend it

But you know what?

There is a little bit of truth behind some of the shit Dizaster’s been sayin’

I have lost my love for this shit

Cause now it’s just oversaturated and fabricated

They ask you to make a blog before the battle

To make the match entertainin’ and act like you hate him

Then after the battle we’re laughin’ and hangin’

See that’s what I’m saying, it’s wack I hate it

You know from the microphones to the battles on stages

So now everyone can Rap about guns now as long as the lines half creative

And this social media shit makes these battle rappers act like they’re famous, man I don’t know

I guess I’m just havin’ trouble tryin’ to adapt to the changes

I used Instagram maybe once in my life, never really used Twitter much

You tell me how many views you have I’ll probably tell you I don’t give a fuck

I don’t even watch battles these days I lost the interest

They used to make me feel like I had the globe in my palm just spinnin’ it on my index

But shit changes doesn’t it? Maybe I’m buggin’

One day I love it, next day I’m sayin’ fuck it

‘Til I step on stage, see the fans that crazy rush hits

And a little voice in my head whispers, ‘Aye you got this’

Look, see I don’t do this for the chain Diz, I do it for these guys

I do it for my fans who knew I was losin’ my passion but stayed by my side

I do this shit for the dude who wrote me and said my song about alcoholism saved his life

Cause just to know his role model survived the same struggle helped push him and gave him drive

I do this shit for the kid with cancer I used to talk to on the phone

Any day he could’ve died but he said the laughter and excitement he got from my battles and talkin’ to me every day just made him feel alive

Man I’ll never forget the day he called me and told me

His Doc said he’s been gettin’ better and his tumor had shrank in size

Then his Mom’s told me she believes me being there for him helped him

And she thanked me crying, now that’s what the fuck I do this for dawg

You just crave the attention you’re like a little College girl

Congrats on your 70,000 Twitter followers Mr. Popular, who gives a fuck?

Who would you be if it wasn’t for this? Ask yourself

And you wouldn’t even be who you are if it wasn’t for Mommy and Daddy’s help

You see anyone could’ve been you Diz, just had to follow the manuscript

Stress free, rent free

Never had to pay a goddamn bill in his life cause his family’s rich

So while we were all bustin’ our asses to pay the bill

You know bein’ a grown man and shit

He had all those years of free time to write rhymes and practice his battle skills in his family’s crib

You see anyone here could’ve been you Diz

With the funds and proper management

So many opportunities the average man would just never have a chance to get

Like for example his battle with Canibus costed a fortune

How did he manage it?

Organik couldn’t come up with all of the funds

So Diz got his Daddy to handle it

See anyone of us could’ve been you Diz

Anyone of us could’ve been you Diz

But none of us had these advantages

I mean come on, you were practically handed it

He just took the pass and he ran with it

But I would never wanna be you Diz

Cause if this whole thing magically vanishes

At least I could say that I actually landed this shit on my own

And go out as a chamption who wasn’t handed shit

Look, he mad right now

Gonna wire some Western Union from his Dad right now

Heads up, he’s bout to throw another beer in the crowd right now

And he was callin’ me a Paper Boy, I just gotta laugh right now

Cause they’re writin’ his obituary right now in the back right now

Aye and to end this battle off, you’re right

This title don’t really matter to me bro

If I lose tonight I’ll just get my freedom back and my album on the go

Battle who I want, when I want, traveling the globe

And you’ll be practicing at home for your battle with Charron

I almost planned to let him win, you were just my sacrificial goat

I was gonna fuck up on purpose and just act as if I choked

But I just couldn’t let my people down cause the fans is all I know

Ayo Canada! Your champion is home

And since he was talkin’ about it so much

I guess I gotta address you Charron

I know you’re still mad that I molested you bro

And the whole battle community hasn’t left you alone

Ever since Arsonal showed that pic of me rubbin’ your leg on the couch

But you been dissin’ me for three years, it’s like you’re obsessed with me though

And I haven’t paid him any attention and that’s what affects him the most

Bro, don’t be delusional, I wasn’t duckin’ you, I was just lettin’ you grow

So once you finish potty trainin’ you can step to the throne

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