B-Rabbit vs Marv One

[Marv One] Yo yo, y'all ready for death? Y'all ready for death? Marv One the fat killer The game done got ugly Let's go Yo, yo I seen your type before, you think you're tough Battle you? Bitch, you lucky I don't beat you up In a game of fisticuffs, I'll push your face back You can't fuck with me, man Really, just face facts It's him verses me, in a battle of ten rounds It's like Muggsy Bogues tryin' to fuck with Jim Brown Dumb fuck, I'm the type to run amok Come in the club drunk as fuck Slap your bitch so we can buck One hook... Type of a man the size of Dan Dierdorf Tryin' to take his ear off like Mike Tyse I'm quite nice on fight nights And why he poppin' shit? I thought he liked life? Apparently not I'm incoherently hot And if I miss you Then your parents'll be shot Yo I'm a bad boy, bitch it's on I'll put 44's in your chest like you Rick Mahorn [B-Rabbit] Hold on faggot, let me turn this mic on Don't think for a minute I'm gon' let you get away with that song That shit was wack, you ain't spittin' As a matter of fact, all of that shit was written And I know it wasn't for me, surely, you really must adore me, Now look it Yo, you might as well move to Italy Look, this guy's ripped...*skkkrr* Literally You don't wanna really fuck wit this On this microphone, I'm not Snuffleupagus But I don't give a fuck, you can keep that dull rap And turn your ass back around with your fuckin skullcap And your bandana or your motherfuckin sweatband Fuckin' with this style, you're a dead man I ain't Redman, but on this mic, yo, I pick it up Just like your face when I had to rip it up You don't wanna see me Yo, uh