[Round 1: Bender]
He brought clips to mags, I'm here to give him a year subscription
Shoulda told him this clearly isn't a wise career decision
Said when it comes to lyricism you and I's a mirror image
So, let's reflect on that and let these people hear the difference
Nah fuck that, salami boy, that's you
You a straight Humpty, I bet you study the dance moves
I'm guessing nine months before your mother had you
She was getting busy in that Burger King bathroom
I'm bagging him in two, if we ain't gambling for loot
We'll take a page from Lux, go battle on a roof
Loser has to jump, I'll hand the kid a noose
He can choose to snap his neck or get splattered on the stoop
I'm that, burning bush that Moses was sure that he saw in the desert
You that nerd with the pocket protector that turned to The Toxic Avenger
These haymakers'll do you a favor, take the rest of that face off ya'
We'll see more jaws dropping than on that leper colony you escaped off of
You got Ben' in a box? That's minute rice
You can't stop me, I'm, so sincere, you smoke and mirrors, this slang godly
ATM: bank on me
I told you I'm bomb got, Hank Shocklee's brain placed inside a motherfucking Krang body
Now I spent some time last week, thinkin' of ways to call you ugly
But this being 1080p, that's gonna do the job just lovely
When I heard you came from Greece, I thought to myself that's funny
'Cause you being from Greece, that's like me being from Hungary
And I'm hella feeling the Bay, Joe Cutter, Animal Planet, even Dan is a savage
These are some cats I'd actually rap with
So you send me a verse recording, I'd be happy to match it
If you weren't known for being a bitch on a track like Danica Patrick
You wanna collab, I'll need cake for that track Petey
You'd have to round up three K like a clan meeting
Look he must know no one's tryna book him for shows
He could try the kush and the blow, to try to cushion the blow
But since '09 you been shit, I can't co-sign you a bit
As far as I'm concerned, you got no right to exist
Maybe calling him a legend the whole time was a myth
'Cause that old climate has shifted been no shine for you since
Got a lowrider down there my bitch stole right down on Fifth
Sitting on a slope it could roll right down the strip
Wrap a clothesline 'round your wrist, so they're both tied to the shift
Have you ghost riding the whip while it goes right off the bridge
I think he get the message now
The second round I'll make him settle down like a wedding vow
Ayo Craig Mack wants his face back
You know what's fucked up? Wait
Day tattooed on a full Spawn mask, and you're still known as the Fresh Coast dude with a fucked-up face
Ain't that some shit
[Round 1: The Saurus]
I got a line that's 'bout to send you to the outer limits
But first I gotta wait another thousand minutes for Mistah F.A.B.'s first round to finish
He wrote some extra raps, to switch the limits, and mess around
Thinks he set a trap
But what's the best attack, against a cat, who tries to spread a man, in a second flat?
The right, dead his ass, turn off the lights, Teddy Pendergrass
The left, Bender's neck'll snap like Hendrix smashed a Fender Strat
Let's get it
My Bay battles been too few and far between
Fuck Lux, I'll take you to that roof like Martin Sheen
Start the scene, cameras rolling, graf writer, can controlling, cannon loaded
Damn it Rich Gannon's going back to Oakland
Throwing missiles homie, I don't miss
Eyes closed, you could show me where the blindfold is
I'll test, big Ben's hands without a timezone switch
And start, flashing off top like a 5-0's whip
You think a cyclone hit, don't cry though bitch
'Cause that's a high tone pitch no strike zone fits
Every shot that I throw splits ya' microchips
If Ben' getting outta pocket like the iPhone 6
This kid's got a drinking problem, he ain't got a bright future
At the bar last night till last call, a blind loser
He said, "You want a wine cooler?"
Nah I'm not a high schooler
Three shots later he's walking like Walter White Jr
Sooner or later I had to prove you a bitch Bender
I'm here to toss money around like a big spender
Limbs getting dismembered, head spinning, hit record, quick-tempered
This shot won the west like a Winchester
I been tested over time, and I know that I could beat him
Double wide tomb, don't close the mausoleum
I'ma show this clown the meaning of how locals start the season
Leave his head half empty, that's the Oakland Coliseum
You gonna die, I bet if you challenge me you'll be way off
No I said you diabetic, I challenge you to a weigh-off
[Round 2: Bender]
Now I seen you tryna network wit' your music
You got no hype, you target at building but no one's getting on board
That's a drone strike
Me, I've been a beast since Keith Richards had a clean liver
I'm a high priest of that motherfucking low life
I ain't do no research, I don't care what you do
But you engaged like every other week, so I think it's fair to assume
Any woman you get to agree to marrying you
Is gon' call it off quicker than Arabs and Jews declaring a truce
You a straight chicken hawk, I feel you Morris
You like to get 'em sucking while they're young, that's Philip Morris
You came with light material, photons
You can bet on, against me you're outside of your element, like electrons
When son fire, you black out, ain't nothing safe from this heat
My one-liners are flat out, 180 degrees
(Chokes)
See some bad luck, this gonn' be a fast lunch
Pete's been gassed up, like a Vietnam monk
Toss a cigarette butt between his feet then back up
Dead on his feet, dealin' with a special elite
So fresh and so clean, feelin' like I've never been beat
Go on and bring up Illmac, that just benefits me
It's 2015, he still ain't hit you up for any 16
Two time World Champion, surpassed by his peers
So he's underdog in every battle in the last five years
We both had that King of the Dot chain on and lost that shit
The difference is, I threw that match and walked like an arsonist
Don't twist it up, I'm tryna catch a pay check
Shit I been broke from the jump like Donny Hathaway's neck
What I don't get's why Lush thought this match would make sense
Cuz what you wrote down for month's what I do in half a day's prep (clearly not)
[Round 2: The Saurus]
Now when he goes to the store he asks for paint and a blank canvas
When he goes to the barber, he asks for the Sage Francis
A fat middle-aged depressed artist, can barely fit the jeans you're rocking
Bottle feeding the addiction of your inner demons talking
You 'bout to set a record player, but it's a different needle dropping
You have a million things in common with Philip Seymour Hoffman
Hopefully, 'cause he died
Caution tape the crime scene and let the Lord be with him
If you think he won a round, it doesn't count, like Norbes' opinion
In your condition man you need to fucking stop it
If this painter make a stand you'll see the ease I'll brush him off with
Now, you fucking lost it but I won't say how
Gloves off, you musta quit, that's the OJ trial
Shit we could go eight rounds, I'll crush you till they shut this whole place down
Then have it opened back up like a cold case file
Now, you thought you were the First Airborne, you a paratrooper
Air maneuver, keep this cat on his feet like a pair of Pumas
Barracuda tearing through ya', Harry Truman airing nukes
I'll, stop the tape and you'll get whipped off cam like Ferris Bueller
I'll bury you, and snatch your soul
Hack ya' skull, have it sold
Come together, Abbey Road
Battle's over, casket closed
But there's a thousand ways for you to die
And since I'm the man they chose
Shit I'll pick Bender off the balcony like Amber Rose
I have it sewed, you better throw, every punch that you can
Fuck Flight Distance, I'm still waiting for something to land
Waiting to battle, but you weren't ready, and you still not
So it's turned deadly, 'cause I'ma beat you, with the bottle, you been stuck in since you turned 20
You on my last nerve ending and I'm such a cold puncher
One hit, 360, no Rolling Stone cover
So tell any broke fucker who said my career's deaded
I'll bring it back to life with no paramedic like Claire Bennet

[Round 3: Bender]
Now we all talk shit in battles that we're not gon' do actually
But I'm concerned with this gun shit you been on, playing that fantasy
You talk about drawing them llamas, when you ain't prepared to start clapping P
That'd be like drawing Mohammed, real killers might run up and clear out a magazine
Now part of me almost hopes they let off rounds in this dude
Splash him and take some years off his life, Fountain of Youth
Let me get this outta my system
I hope you get found by some goons, and they put five in The Saurus like a perfect album review
Back in Vegas he roll with a pack of rats, no Sammy Davis
'Round here he's signing affidavits all across the San Andreas
So I'm not talking 'bout no tracks he make with Planet Asia when I say the factual statement you've collaborated with Cali agents
Man I'm playin', but it's just like fuck every angle's taken
You've battled 650 times on YouTube, no exaggeration,that's amazing
But where the fuck did that get you I'm just saying
I'm thinkin', maybe you shoulda went out in your prime like Amadeus, let me explain
He rose to prominence with the Oakland audience
So I suppose it's common sense, his old accomplishments of global dominance
It started here but grow synonymous with his overconfidence
But, you know the consequence, overexposing all this shit
Promoters jocking him at first reverse, then broke they promises
You saw the opponents Okwerdz got, you hurt, won't acknowledge it
But every event felt like a knife in your back, that's Roman politics
Was it your face that look like post-apocalyptic molten lava pits or your gross incompetence making that music no one bothered with
Now, you just overstayed your welcome, sunk down to the middle tier
Lost all your shit, now they saying you don't belong in this
He's battled long depressions 'cause the man is not the legend
They're like Santa Claus and penguins, that's polar opposites
Now he's stacking all his bread up, packed it up moved to the desert
In the end, that money's gon' be just another ghost you're haunted with
'Cause you could stack a mountain of dead presidents like that South Dakota monument
But that pot is getting raked 'cause you'll never know when to fold and walk with it
And you deserve it, you treat your fans like shit, ay The Saurus
I don't mean just being a dick, he rips 'em off, he's made a fortune
Seven years ago, Kyle Conway bought a verse, you still ain't recorded
So if you want a track with Pete, don't hold your breath if he paid you for it
I thought you had cards up your sleeve, your boy bluffing, I just royal flushed him
Now who the fuck is Doyle Brunson?
I said from here on in, I'm only battling legends
But if the money's right tell Ness that I might just make an exception

[Round 3: The Saurus]
You can diss me for playin' cards, but I just think you're hating
I made six K last week clicking buttons, how much did you rake in fingerpainting?
It doesn't make a difference who oversees it, your ship is sailing
Yoke up, I'll split his egg before it's finished incubating
Face it, you don't know what getting paid is, till you've raised kids on both sides of the Bay Bridge
Yeah I gamble for a living, but you need to look closer
'Cause I even made a bet on this battle, I took over
I ain't come to joke around
You know this clown's been broken down and for what was supposed to be my Oakland crowd
This is how a closing round's supposed to sound
Expect no less from me, rep the west, protect the legacy
Bender's dead in three, prep ahead, get the stretcher please
Before I got on stage, I double-checked my weaponry
And knew I'd wind up armed from all angles like Dennis Eckersley
You're second best to me, I mean, you make tight music
But in this battle shit, all you did was take my blueprint
So when I see ya' mug, I wanna put a straight right to it
You just, got a nose for it like the K-9 unit
Sounding stupid every time I hear this fella force it
I tell him forfeit, you won't get awarded but I'll give you metal for it
I'm metamorphing, mad heart and you can tell I poured it into every bar 'cause he got hit so hard he teleported
You ready for it, this your time to be heard
It's that, word on the street, start biting the curb
I like beef, your boys wanna fight with me, word
I lift your entire team like they hired Steve Kerr
You can't deter me, ain't nobody moving
That's a big red flag, no Soviet Union
Jesus, I'm not religious, I'm only assuming
You'll get bodied and whine, that's holy communion

[Forgotten Bender Bars From his 2nd Round]
I see some bad luck, it's gon' be a fast lunch
Pete's been gassed up like a Vietnam monk
I'll toss a cigarette butt between his feet then back up
Dead on his feet, feeling like a special elite
So fresh and so clean I'm feeling like I've never been beat
Go on bring up Illmac, that just benefits me
It's 2015, he still ain't hit you up for any 16s
Two-time World Champion, surpassed by his peers
So he's underdog in every battle in the last five years
We both had that King Of The Dot chain on and lost the shit
The difference is I threw that match and walked like a arsonist
Don't twist it up I'm tryna cash a paycheck
Shit I been, broke from the jump like Donny Hathaway's neck
But what I, don't get's why Lush thought this match would make sense
'Cause what you, wrote down for months I do with half a day's prep