Hollow Da Don vs. Pat Stay

[HOLLOW DA DON] I prepared for a three round battle. Last minute he switched up Came dressed like a burglar fiending for money, but he bitched up Now you got the crowd down and out I mean you’re just gonna go in one big circle So what’s this one round(-)about? Ever since Calicoe punked him in the States, he ain’t battled since You’ve been a unhappy camper: mad intense Matter fact, ‘fore I get to this battle rap Let me show y’all what type of cat is Pat See? All his big ass'll do is tap you back Can I finish my round? Or you want to stand up here and go tap for tap? I mean ‘cause don’t look at the host Like nobody‘ll probably stand down There’s no Organik. I’m not Charron Come to the stage and stop Hollow’s hand now So we already got you punking Charron and Cal punking you With that indication, now it’s telling me depending on the pigmentation you’ll switch your statements With Sketch Menace it’s, “Shut up! Don’t interrupt me, I’ll kick your face in!” Then it’s, “Hey, Head Ice, your shit’s amazing.” See I always mention Head Ice ‘cause it’s the Jim Crow law They think the darker you are, the harder you are Or the lighter you are, the lighter you are, and that’s not right I give everybody the same respect, but if I have to fight I treat a scrap like Mike: I go pop It don't matter if you're black or white You’re not a Canada thug To a street American, you’re a average battling punk That only gets paid from YouTube, so you add(ad) on the front Ooh, I hope you get AIDS and Alzheimer’s So you can forget you got AIDS ’til all your exes start dying I hope you crash into a median, car flying Eighteen wheeler almost hit you but park by you He think he safe, ’til sparks ignited from a small wire It explode and he die in a car fire Nah, minus the all-timers, I’ll four-five him Bigger the body, the bigger the hole size is We just keep digging like coal miners Speaking of coal, I got the coldest flow Cold for sure, four below Colder than Nova Scotia snow Colder than my heart which is frozen though Cold enough to let the toaster go At his grandparents’ mobile home Grandma do the rope-a-dope, Grandpa do the okie doke Enough of the jokey jokes. They came for your funeral It’s a million ways to die, and I want you to choose a few When I was young, I was a heat blower Revolvers with speed loaders Now it’s a drum and a Tommy gun Look like I’m swinging a leaf blower Or, I could’ve got him slaughtered at the border By an East African kid that I sponsored for a quarter Or, my nigga’s suicidal. He tripping ‘cause he homeless I give him the word, he’ll take him with him for a bonus Or, my niggas from the seven give him seven for seven pounds They bring them guns They say “Pat Stay want to play the god? Well tell the King dem come.” Nah. I said he’s just an informer So you should Snow what I’ma do with that I’m Sizzla mixed with Jigga, Supernat mixed with Super Cat I get the vibes(Vybz) from my Kartel Then like Mavado, us two'll Clash Then I’m back, moving packs through them bags Stacking Buju bands I hold that ting. I load that ting, then reload that ting Do this all natural, this my old man ting This a cold man ting, this a cold man ting Flow so cold, you should snow that ting You should snow dat ting, you should snow dat ting Like Reeks when I blow dat ting When I blow dat ting, when I blow dat ting Pat, didn’t you cross your best friend To amp a crowd for a battle style? Well you Skip to My Lou The way you crossed him, then passed him, wow Wait, I could add a And-1 ‘cause that was foul; He Skip to My Lou the way he crossed him Then went behind his back just to rap a round(wraparound) Now I got something that I owe Pat So I’ll give him something old, Pat The steel erase ‘is thoughts (racist thoughts) like the old Pat Then I circle around him like a news chopper With that new choppa Big enough to knock down Chewbacca I’ll 2Pac ya then ask Who Shot Ya? Throw your body over my shoulder: boombox ya Steel toe boots on, I’ll moonwalk ya Trying to play Jedi mind tricks to Luke ‘walker Eminem said you couldn’t sneak a plastic gun through customs And he’s right, y’all. So fuck all these gun bars Let’s get into these knife bars. I hold it with a steady right Then get his chest very sliced with a chef Curry knife Or a ox pick ‘ll drop his spleen and he’ll need doctor treatment Got a minute to live, he trying to Google how to stop the bleeding Get it down Rex, keep my name out your mouth and you could get it now I’ll spit a round and— ooh, you lucky it ain’t a second round [PAT STAY] Scraight to it, no time to waste Fuck you, right away Fuck you, your gecko eyes and I’m-about-to-start-crying face Fuck you, your whiny, Siamese-cat-dying Mommy-my-knee’s-scraped, lord-why-me, help-please-untie-me I-scream-with-the-dry-heaves-at-a-high-C-five-weeks-straight I-need-bass voice, fuck you A woman’s fingers jammed in a car door. Other hand in a lawnmower Iggy Azalea on tour. Nails on a chalkboard A foghorn. Hardcore dog porn Just a list of things I like hearing a lot more. Fuck you You said in the world I’m number sixty-four? Then tell them, why the fuck ‘d you pick me for? What you never thought I’d catch onto it? He set up all of this It’s in England, that’s why he picked me over Shotty, it’s obvious Battle of the Brave, more like a coward who’s afraid Respect to Shotty, but I already bodied him Now you just dug a hole for yourself for me to dump your body in; Body on top of body, I’m on some Giant Gonzalez shit Man what you gonna do? Give me some business tips And educate me like you did with Clips? Like, “all you have is ClipsTV,” like he got bigger fish Dropping all that knowledge, I had to go and look into it And dude might actually be onto something, he’s on some different shit Innovative genius; he did his research for real He got a website now, and t-shirts for sale You got hoodies too, bro? Look at you go Whoa. Don’t forget us little guys when you blow Dog, you got Loyalty Ova Money custom-made pens? Shit, they aught to give you a chair on Dragon’s Den He’s like, “god, I’m a innovator. Fuck a job or a business major.” Mum calls him a minute later like, “why is there an intercom in my generator?” I got to ask you a question, my brother. From one entrepreneur to another How did you come up with making shirts in different colors? Like, just to be a fly on the wall. What next is he gonna discover? He’ll watch a porn like, “this guy ain’t even a real plumber.” But wait. Man, what you know about business ethics? And listen, it’s ‘bout to get interesting And I’ll run it back ‘case it gets intercepted and you didn’t catch it You gave Drake the Started From the Bottom beat Your boy Mike Zombie made it, but you’re the one who shopped it, see Now, that’s where royalties and publishing occurs Stuff just to ensure you get the cut that you deserve Mister businessman here ain’t get nothing in return; His boy Zombie got cha-ching and fuckin chucked him to the curb This motherfucking nerve. Talk about my ten grand (Oh he’s right here? Yeah?) He’s right here? Cool, well off the head, man He’s just creeping up to you like some type of obsessed fan He’s right the fuck there? This dude’s still your friend? Damn If that was me, Zombie would be a walking dead man Hate it or love it, the underdog’s on top, and this sucka’s getting mopped But he was scared to have it judged So it’s technically just a tie whether he wins or not But this is for y’all: for all the TV series they stole, right? Fuck this American. A Canadian’s stealing the show tonight Hollow the Don. What’s your mother’s name, Donna the Mom? You got a face that says, “I don’t understand how this condom goes on.” I can’t tell if you look like a salamander or a tropical frog Did you catch a flight here or just fucking hop off a log? Hollow the Don. I’m a big fan of all of your songs That’s bullshit. Sound like you’re fucking dropping a bomb Hollow the Don. How ‘bout a good old game of follow the palm? I’ll put a hole in him, leave Hollow all empty ‘cause he ain’t solid at all Go to his funeral service; they ask me to turn my volume off I’ll fuckin jack that shit up on blast, set the ringtone to Atomic Dog No respect. See his casket, I’ll right on the box And that’s the best case, like an Otterbox Leave smiling. Cold as February Got a strap and I’ll cold buck it(bucket) like Ben ’n Jerry’s And I been just dying to bang it like the secretary And it stay in my jeans(genes) like it’s hereditary I’ll hit the cemetery where your best friend was buried And steal the red rose from his headstone and replace it with a dead canary Disrespect on a whole different level; Rip the stems like a producer sending the engineer an instrumental