B.A.R.S. Vs. Da Hustla

[Intro] [Verse 1: Da Hustla] You just a performer, I was on the corner grinding the packet I'm a Ryder, If there's drama I'm palming the ratchet And you could find me in traffic, I'm in the streets 10 years ago I was moving like 10 a week You just a family man, tryna settle down You on parole so you scared to hold the metal now You moved away from the hood, I'm in the ghetto now Yea, I grip pipes, I just like how the metal sound I got the metal now, nigga, I ain't never scared How the fuck you run Philly and you ain't never there!? And I ain't never feared nothing but God You went to jail, came home, and ain't do nothing but hide But fuck it, I'm a ride, I might start sparking the H I send rap cats to God like Mase And like the car accident, I'll put another scar on your face But when the 5 clap, you ain't gonna survive that Nigga [Interlude] [Verse 2: BARS] Oh, you ruthless, the record I'm a Hustla was stupid Cause Jay made more off the record than you did And Swizz made more off the record than you did So you did something for nothing you doofus I'm too sick for, any nigga with 2 lips And 1 tongue in his mouth, I talk too slick You only got a few hits and a couple fans And I could prolly get you bodied for a couple grand I caught a murder attempts, I had a couple man But I could knuckle man, and knock you out with a couple hands Every bar I spit raw like a couple grams You the Hustla, but I'll show you how to hustle man [Interlude] [Verse 3: Da Hustla] Look, I'm a give this guy an applause But It's a lotta lies in a lot of his BARS Cause I'm a hustla, I sold pies of the raw Plus, the hustla gon' ride if it's war But you the type of boy that'll hide if it's war You the type boy that never come outside if it's war So, you a nut to me, you know you can't fuck with me And BARS you was locked up on protective custody You like my son, but I don't want custody You a mutt to me, I'm a pit, And you a pup to me You in the street cause you beat the case luckily But you ain't tough as me, I'll burn you like a dutch of trees [Interlude] [Verse 4: BARS] You a snitch, you a rat, you'll sing, you'll hold the note I sold the coke, and smoke weed 'till I'm comatose I live by the rules, I was schooled by the older folks I was showed the ropes by the cats that was holding toast Lord knows even goons get the Holy Ghost Yea, I believe in Christ, but I'll still squeeze a pipe And I don't even need to write, or switch the flow You niggas know I ain't Murder Fluke or Cicero I'm way sicker yo, so who ever supposed to be nice Get two choices, the toast or the knife And if you think you a hustler, then you the one smokin the pipe Cause you ain't never sold no coke in you life, trust me! You must be giving money away if you got 20 strips all doin 20 a day! Cause you ain't worth shit, you went gold on your first disc And I'm a Hustla sold less then your first shit, nigga [Outro]