T-Rex vs. G Souldier

[Round 1: G Souldier]
This Captain Planet I wanna recycle my rhymes bitch-ass nigga
Was scared to add two more minutes to this battle
So fuck your respect
'Cause nigga ain't nobody scared of no motherfucking T. rex
An overhyped reject who dress like Billie Jean
Who always rocks skinny jeans, skullcaps and a V-neck
See, pussy is what I detect
When I see Rex I squeeze techs
Eject bullets till this wannabe bully
Will hold his chest and throw up the BX when he reflex
See you would think I was a meteor striking the earth again the way I'm 'bout to get rid of this T Rex
I say first off
Fuck Murda Mook, fuck K Shine
Fuck Tay Roc, all them pussy niggas can stand in a line
Nigga fuck your momma, your aunt, your uncle
Nieces and nephews in your family that's five
Fuck Dot Mobb, fuck your cousins, fuck your grandma if your granny alive
Nigga fuck your kids, fuck your girl
Matter of fact, fuck everybody in your family that died
And I'm serious nigga
See this, your bitch-ass daddy left you 'cause he ain't have no faith in his son
Nigga you will get duct-taped till you numb
I'll play this little piggy with your fingers and start breaking your thumb
Texas Chainsaw Massacre your face and your tongue
Get tossed in a lake in the slum
'Cause you like a female fucking herself with a dildo, Rex
'Cause you 'bout as fake as they come
So just retire, you not harming me
I'm lighting storms, tornadoes, hurricanes
I brought an entire storm with me
You ain't killing me
You couldn't be ill as me
If you took drugs from an entire pharmacy
Battling me, bitch you shoulda learned
Now you at the point of no return like an expired warranty
I said listen, nigga you fuck with me you'll get your son knocked
You think you shining till I make that sun drop
You think you rhyming, that gun cock
Let off one shot when that gun pop
And it'll kill Rex so fast
For running off at the mouth like a bitch taking a porno cum shot
See nigga you knew I was in the menu in this venue
But you still wanted to ride through
Nigga you ordered this ass-whooping
So I'm cooking you getting fried too
See he thought this was gon' be a happy meal
Till I catch you in your whip when you slide through
Nigga you will hear that wind blow
When I put these big MACs through your window like a MacDonalds drive through
Nigga I'll have your mom crying, tissue
The nine'll rip through your spine and tissue
His soul flying, I'm still firing
Even his.....
Let me stop playing, Rex
'Cause nigga you know I can't be lying with you
'Cause when I pull it
I got a full clip and the impact of my bullets will have your guardian angel dying with you
Yeah, now look at this bitch dude
He hoping I would stop
You getting chopped up like wood shop
This gay-ass nigga like wood cocks
And he like 'em rock-hard and 69 like Woodstock
Nigga like a car my whole hood pop
And we disperse the pistols
The way my bullets be hitting on you so much
You would think that they was fucking with you
See I'm official
You can step in hell
In seconds, I show you Rex is frail
Fuck what you repping, I'll knock out your section
And turn you till your intestines fail
I dare any one of your Twat Mobb niggas try and rob me
Boy I get to blamming and repping sales
You would think it was music industry, and bootleggers
The way you can expect murder from these burners like record sales
And speaking of record sales
Nigga you so wack on a track that you couldn't get a crime track with your rhyme scam
'Cause your lyrics are about as effective as contacts on a blind man
See this chump dying on the front line
I know that you feel this
Now it's crunch time, no punch lines
Let's get into some real shit
I say listen, no lie
You spit your shit with so much conviction
How you blam heat in your verse
You make it believable, when they seeing you
They be like 'damn, he putting in work'
Nigga when you said you open up them 38 .38s
I was standing with a smirk
'Cause when you finish all that fabricated shit
The fact still remains that Randy, you are a nurse
You Gaylord Focker, nigga
So when he rapping that shit-

[Round 1: T-Rex]
Grown man bars, something he gotta deal with
'Cause no matter how many of them fabricated lines he said
It ain't gon' equal up to this real shit
This bitch-ass nigga got beat up by Yung Ill and Aye Verb
This is word to my son's life, he got beat up by Yung Ill and Aye Verb
One of them niggas is gay, the other one wears a straight perm
Everything I'm saying is true, ain't nothing false about it
But if me and K-Shine woulda jumped him
You won't be here to talk about it
All you'll see is the body, yellow tape
Chalk around it
Bunch of blood, y'all making me mad just to talk about it
And this nigga making me mad
'Cause I don't really wanna talk about it
But since y'all seem like y'all wanna hear it
I'mma talk about it
Verb was over thurr
Ill was over thurr
Ill was worried about his nails
Verb was worried about his hurr
Now, you really know that makes him a bitch-ass nigga
When he get his ass beat by two bitch-ass niggas
And that made me mad when they told me that you wanted to stand in front of me
'Cause you could Verb and Ill together and they won't come up to one of me
Mook wants 25K to kill a nigga that's ill
For 25K, I'll kill a nigga for real!
Walk up on him, point-blank range in his grill
This nigga mama'll cry before my son miss a meal
And he talking like his Dezzi'll blast
It's like I'm shopping for lettuce
I'll have his head in a bag
I let that Beretta blast
He slipping, I catch his ass
With that can, he like that boxing brand:
He won't ever last
K Shine voice: I'mma beat this nigga very bad
I got a lefty jab to knock the sand out a heavy bag
I'm thirsty to let the Eagle blast
I ain't into that shit
While he talking, I sneak his ass
I see the mag, pick it up, squeeze it fast
Have his block full of empty shells like they eating crab
Now play the hype thug
You'll only get your wife snubbed
Last time you see her is with a man wearing white gloves
Tell G that my soldiers in route
We can't find him in his crib
Then we a go to his house
Nigga you know what I'm 'bout
Once them .40s come out
Them 10 fours will have his brains hanging over and out
He don't want no drama
He just extra aggressive 'cause y'all hold him back
Well I'll clap him, have him where y'all gotta hold his hat
Over his head, 'cause his eyes keep rolling back
Something about a nigga dying just make me so relaxed
And it took me 'bout five bodies to notice that
I put bullets where niggas' stomachs and where they scrotums at
I'm 5'4'' but my ego a little taller
Been working out 'cause that Desert Eagle a little stronger
Now pull up
That'll make a nigga dip
Then push up
And shoot fifty out a clip
You'll sit up
With a cast all stitched
You work out, you know you shoulda jogged
This shit a sprint
I take it personal with personal lies
And make me personally get your coffin personalized
You front in person, you gon' be the person to die
Your mom's yelling in the call throwing her purse in the sky
When the semis get drawn your ligaments torn
You'll be covered in more blood than when he was born
I'm aiming slugs at this nigga head
Y'all already know my slogan: this nigga dead!