Danny Myers vs. Steams

[Round 1: Steams]
Leprechaun-orange beard bars is somethin' you gotta deal wit'!
Either that, or some real sh*t
I'm talkin' no leg shots
The sh*t I palm for heads (foreheads) like I feel sick
Real sh*t, word to Mommy
For y'all thinkin' this herb could stop me
My last 2-on-2, with Chess on my back: I'll reverse the body!
I had to study this verse, rehearse the body
Then got a box to put you in one: I'm re-hearsin' bodies
Get used to Steams shootin' these n*ggas that's not crew wit' me
Wit' army guns from the Carter battle, I got two or three
Old straps, 'cause these new clips (Clips) not what they used to be
You could be a b*tch
When Dan yells (Danielle), I hear a broad now
Tell Chuck I'm tailored
We can converse whenever: I got star rounds!
'Lyt get the longest night
King, you won't see Day for a long while
Jones? Boring!
I'll take Chill' out, and won't calm down
Rip through the street, breakin' ya block up: I'm layin' tar down!
Who the God now?
Faking this inspiration, a sad actor
'Cause you and B. Dot talked that sh*t, then battled white boys for the chain
That's ass-backwards!
Fake-preaching
For that factor, I gotta set him straight
'Cause the only thing I'm offerin' God is a flipped cap: that's a collection plate
Bet he stay in his crib, screamin', "Bar God!" like he did somethin'
Ashtray at Daishiki house: spinnin' 'round his kids punchin'
Bet you gon' say I used to choke a lot, and it's disgustin'
But that sh*t got old before it started like Ben Button
Arnold and Wills: n*gga, this kid drummin' (Drummond)
Start sprintin' when I'm hittin', or y'all the Clintons
First you, then your b*tch runnin'!
I'm feelin' lucky, like Ace before Lulu and Mitch stunted
My palm itchy, I got the slot machine: I'mma hit somethin'
Stop talkin'! You did nothin'!
Hang it up, or these shots callin'
Before he bang on me, his end comin'
This kid buggin', 'cause what he didn't mention
Is it's a ladder on this star's .45, but that's my secret extension
It's like that!
f*ck you and ya light raps!
You taught your cousin how to hold the ratchet, then had to hold his casket? They hyped that
My unc' gave me the gun from young, told me it's my strap
Me, a group of n*ggas, and my gat
Off the stoop wit' n*ggas, then right back
It grew wit' n*ggas, but I ain't like it...'cause of the nose: I'm Mike Jack!
Your light raps, it's funny, 'cause you a fan of the boy Tay
This di*k-rider ain't wanna rock (Roc) wit' Kannon 'til he joined Cave
But off Kannon, 'cause I took that battle for granted
But you got a death wish, I'm lettin' the four grant it
You inherited this loss, money, so I can't leave you alone (a loan) like poor parents!
These my war antics
But play hero, and settle for a cold cut like a store sandwich
I'm tryin' to do more damage
Cut out the red meat 'til he turn vegan
This pus*y goin' back to Organik (organic)!
If your plan is to speak on Chess' success, stop, chump
You ever heard
Me hate on that man? Not once
I'm from the Army: little bro 'posed to be on the top bunk!
So stop frontin' and drop somethin'
I got a bullet for every freckle on your face
n*gga, the club ain't lit when ya spots jumpin'!
Wait, I forgot somethin'
One more subject to get touched
I hate wife-beaters, and you hit the sl*t when it get rough
So think Bonus Round, the way I be buckin' his whip up
I'mma give D V cases for f*ckin' his b*tch up!
One more thing that I got to do
He called me a janitor
Mailroom sh*t: this stock needed a ladder to get ya box to you
Cake
Lyfe!

[Round 1: Danny Myers]
You went from Kareem Washington to the Beam'
I'll give you props to the fullest
But I'm a Wizard...
Even before the name change, I would've gave Washington Bullets!
If I had to take an odd guess
I'd say I'm about five steps from God's breadth
My boy just got killed in his Charger
Now me and my n*ggas is tryna Dodge death
When you first started, you was fire
I can't call that trash
But you got lighter, and blew up around all that gas!
Don't get it twisted! I'll put this steel in ya face!
I raised ten babies: I know how to peel from the waist!
I got loyal soldiers
I swear to God my boy'll smoke ya
He set this beef at simmering, but he'll put Steams in the air if it boils over
It's been anticipation, but at the same time, n*ggas hatin'
So I'll reach in this holster and draw from it like inspiration!
Gs see should first cover, 'cause you been actin' funny on the block
So for that, I'll follow up and put money in a box!
All y'all missed it
Jeezy, Inspiration was the follow-up, and the first cover had money in a box
See how I trap rappers?
Do you believe in a Parallel Universe? I do
Let me demonstrate it
My granny was puttin' change in the collection plate, while I was holdin' a nickel-plated
So you the head of the Cakes? That's cool, because I shoot leaders
I'll be in your hood, lookin' for the correct marks like a proofreader
First n*gga run up, head shot
It's worse following
I'mma wig (Whig) on every man around like the first Colonies!
I promised him: he was destined for death
Or plastic surgery: I brought somethin' extra for Chess (chest)!
Aye, Jay
Blac
Aye, Jay
Blac, look at his squad
He run wit' a bunch of crackheads
You ain't gotta do a review, but I'mma hit four out of five black (Blac) heads!
Hold on, hold on...
And you brought this b*tch Tay Money wit'chu!?

[Steams]
Damn right

[Danny Myers]
You gon' suck me 'til I dribble on the ground!
That's how you come off the top in the MIDDLE of a round!
Chrome pipes!
Steams, you in for a long night!
I don't care if I have beef wit' a blind man: it's on sight!
I'm from the bottom
To this day, I'm still sick 'bout it
I had enough school clothes to last from Monday to Wednesday
Then I had to mix outfits
I had to borrow shirts
I went to school with sh*t another n*gga worn
I didn't realize it then, but that was training me how to adjust to another n*gga form!
I am Plato's ideologies wrapped inside Horus' mind
You can't correspond wit' a man who has the core of Spawn
I chain-punch!
Spawn...chain - shout to Mickey Factz
I remove wigs
But n*ggas deny my greatness 'cause I ain't one of the cool kids
Get ya life together!
Miss me with all the hijinks!
n*gga, you 30, and best friends wit' a n*gga who can't even buy drinks!
But between y'all, I'mma have to say the child the best
Soon as I get space, you'll see the baby monster poppin' outta Chess (chest)!
I'm alienated!
I could go into God Mode, I've got options
I don't have to fully wipe the floor wit' this n*gga: I'm just spot-moppin'
Glock-c*ckin', come ready wit' both 9s raised
I'm with the sh*t, I already know crime pays
I brought the Great Western forward
Y'all gon' see an L.A. shooter pass a bullet to Kareem like the Showtime days!
Your team questionable
BOW! Spine shot!
Even if he don't die, it's (diet) gon' make Steams vegetable!
Incredible, I'm different, King
And my fif' is mean
I don't need a two-way pager just for me to get The Beam
Go ‘head and spit your schemes
We
GoHard, they some witty scoundrels
But who voted for you?
You just a n*gga that City (B. City) counsel (council)
I'm too much, I'm too much
So you ‘sposed to be a role model for Chess?
Well, that's some sh*t you gotta prove, then
‘Cause in two years, he gon' get his own apartment, and you gon' move in!
Facts! Facts!
You ain't gon' have sh*t on the bills
This is not what the norm do
You gon' be on his fridge, writin' yo' name on the orange juice!
Aye! Aye! Aye!
Chess gon' have hoes in the house
b*tches gon' be gettin' f*cked by the floor
You gon' in your room, being a pervert with a cup by the door!
So you from the Projects, huh?
The OGs taught you to extort cream?
How can there be any veterans in yo' hood, when every n*gga in yo' Fort Green?
And they got a sports team!
We on the ‘Net, I told these n*ggas
Steams can spit, but every bar clay: I mold these n*ggas!
Look at his face right now!
They gon' make that an emoji, n*gga!
If Gwitty is Paper, I'm Origami: I fold these n*ggas!
I hold these triggers ‘til you on the ground wit' this sh*t
This wack MC got another two rounds of this sh*t!
(Yikes!)

[Round 2: Steams]
You the Bar God?
I'm the Pen Sire, boy (Syah
Boy)
That mean I two-step wit' my jawn (John)
So you know I'm extra strapped, like a dyke threesome in a lesbian porn
I brought the Desert for your heifer, and this TEC for your mom
But I'mma put this MAC on you like Miss Parker, wettin' the lawn
Potholes: I get around (a round) in the street
That's instrumental, like the sound of the beat
Try to dance and get rocked slow
We move out, like bagged-up sneakers and boxed clothes
I'll let a shot go...he'll have a celibate casket: his box closed!
Or I'm at your door, puttin' in pain (Payne) wit' the Roscoe
It's long, and the front of it drip: it's a snot-nose!
Tell the block close, or I'm comin' to get him
He think it's set-up ‘til he got set up by one of his n*ggas
He's married to the block, slums, and the trenches
Well, his pop's a rolling stone
And the kids? It's goin' out to every one of you b*tches
Okay, D? Shots ain't just for you and your main squeeze
I plot on the God, get the drop on his squad like J. Reid
That go for you, Chilla, and JC
But where's Trez? I'm tryin' to get next to the Chef, like KD!
Let in ring in the East, then send you back to the West with KG
So I could use this new thing I'mma buy
But I couldn't bring it out here
It's a J.R. (Jr.) Smith: they don't ring in N.Y.!
But you gon' call me a PG?
Cool, I move at my pace, sir (Pacer)
But this PG gon' still outshine you: you Danny Granger!
If I use two fours, I'll get twenty for (24) retirin' you, like the Lakers
Or let it sing in your face