[Round 1: Hollow Da Don]
Some wonder about the Western days
And why did some guys saddle?
Some wonder about the future, and why do some time travel?
I'm just wondering…
How the fuck you let me 3-0 you in a one-round battle?
I'm just being real
I don't know what I'm doing here, this shit's weird
He's such a juice head, last time when I said "I'll shoot your ass!" he didn't even get scared
But this ain't last time, I won't say my flow cold
Like a Popsicle, probably, or a hospital lobby
No one is hotter than lava on a Guatemalan island
Damn it, I'm snappin'
I'm madder than Madden after a tackle done happened
And he miscalled it by an impractical fraction
But enough about me, I'm being selfish
That one round was eating you alive, it's understandable
I'm a cannibal, but this time, I ain't tappin' Pat
I'm rollin' up with shoulder bumps just to see what his man'll do
Nobody? Fuck all that!
Organik, watch where you goin'
Because I should blindside you for actin' like I ain't seein' dog
Nikiya, this pit fucked up my performance
I should wet your head like a Chia doll
I live for this shit, n***a, I die for my "respeck"
I'm talkin' to all "tree" of y'all
Just support and roll, because he's a star
And they came for your funeral
It's a million ways to die, and I want you to choose a few
Nah, I mean enough, I don't want him dead
I want to see him go through physical pain
A head shot, he survive, but it hemorrhage his brain
Cops on the side lookin' for leads, he can't remember a thing
That's because I put a traffic jam in his memory lane
I get in that ass: that's colon
Brrrrrrrr, K's: that's Nolan, or two gats blowin'
BOW! BOW! BOW! Look like I'm backstrokin'
I could have started this show
Swingin' a pound like this shit Arsenio
Or had a MAC spittin' with sparks like this shit Omillio
Click-click, really though, big clip really blow
About the size of a cell phone… from a Slick Rick video
I'm mean, but I'm also confused
Because you had the nerve to diss Mike Zombie
Sayin' I wasn't with Mike Zombie…
While I was with Mike Zombie, you fuckin' idiot!
That's how you know you're ignorant
You don't even know a person, and you dissin' him
Then try to school me on some business tips
Wait, weren't you the one in London backstage throwin' hissy fits? Like, "What? Y'all ain't get the chips?!
I got no money at home and I just got fired from the dealership"
Now besides thinkin', "Why was there white around your lips?" and shit, I was thinkin' that's why I did the second round
On equity like I did with Clips
Because if we both died on them plane crashes home
I had stacks in my personal account
My fam would have took care of my businesses
And they would've needed a GoFundMe page
To put this bitch in a ditch and shit, n***a, that's the differences
Then you were sellin' Sucka Free Boss hoodies
Oooo, you fuckin' hypocrite!
By the way, them pens and shit
That was a gift and shit from […]
And also a symbolism to step up your penmanship
Because you claimed you'd look into it
Now, I just named three instances
So if y'all react to fake personals, that'd be hideous
But werka-werka-werka
I slowed it down, so let me switch this shit
Get up on some different shit
Got a n***a pissed, so you know a n***a with the shit
Pull up with the tool on the belt, they think I'm fixin' shit
Hand blew, leg red: got him on some Twister shit
I said, don't worry about the bars
Just worry what I got on: LOMclothing.com
[Round 1: Pat Stay]
That mustache is bitchin', now that's precision
I don't even want to battle you, dude
I just want to know how you did it
I usually scratch my head like that, but it got me doing this shit
I don't get it, I just don't understand the physics
What is it? How, what with, and how often do you trim it?
Wow! How symmetrical can you get it?
You got it hooking, too, bro? Look at you go!
Grow a beard like a man, and let them pussy pubes go!
Man, fuck you and your whole mark-ass crew!
You can't see me, like a heart tattoo on a dark black dude
These pups ain't vicious, they just growl and bark at you
But really just want a belly rub and soft cat food
But I don't show them love, you ain't gettin' Pat, stay
The Dog Whisperer, they listen that way
Shock collar, like an electric leash, this bitch gettin' trained
It's a walk in the park for me, I got this shit in the bag
P-A to the T Stay, put some "respeck" on it
Fuck your punk-ass roster!
Jump, grasshopper, see who's the loc'est
No more humble Pat
Tell the gravedigger I want my shovel back
I ain't playin' no games, they want to push my buttons
And after, shake my hand, like a Rumble Pak?
I don't fuck with that!
Wring your neck like the African Kayan tribe
You'll hear little subtle cracks
As the joints pop, sound like I'm twistin' a bubble wrap
I'm an tap axe-swinging lumberjack
Not to mention, a fuckin' mack
Break your bitch off, then she creep home late
And like a cheap phone case, he gotta rub her back
And no, I'm not drunk, I'm fuckin' smashed
I'm just feeding you, huh? See, I figured I'd help you out
Because I know you're going to talk about me being a drunk
Because he's sober now, right?
Pft, you can act like you're clean if you want
But you can't spell "clean" without the "lean," we can see it's a front
You can't embarrass someone who makes fun of themself
And shows you their whole hand that you shuffled and dealt
You got some funny stories? Good, I got one I can tell
Because Nigel here been in a little scuffle himself
It was him and John John Da Don, made a fuck of himself
You swung at him, and you're the one who stumbled and fell
During the swing, he was able to pull up his pants
Buckle his belt, tuck in his cell, puff on an L
And eat a chicken buffalo melt – what in the hell?
So careful who you swingin' on, bitch!
This pussy flexin', better drop down, get your kegel on, bitch!
I done let shit slide, but catch me on the wrong tip
And I'll smoke this piece of dog shit on some Cheech & Chong shit
Fuck with me! Come on and play, ¡ándale, ándale!
You'll be rockin' a bodybag like Missy Elliott in her song "The Rain"
You think size doesn't matter, 'til I take Nigel and grab him
And toss a Hollow in the crowd like ISIS in Paris
"Ooooooooo," I hate that face! I want to break that shit
I'll sock you and anyone that you face-swap with
Right off rip, or I could drop you with a Neymar kick
With my hands behind my back like a baseball pitch
I ain't the type of white boy you play the race card with
Because if Hollow cause problems I'll bomb him on some Adolf shit
Fuck you and your whole crew you came here with!
I'm Pat Stay, I roll solo just to make my print
[Round 2: Hollow Da Don]
So what, I'm clean from lean? Like I said in London
You was itchin' and scratchin' like it was Breaking Bad
I was thinkin', "One hit and he gone," n***a, that's Baby Bash
Your best bars in the last round was tryin' to play my 'stache
Ha-haaa! Jada laugh
Pat Stay, I haven't heard a comment that dumb since Stacey Dash
But damn, you don't personally know me
I wouldn't store your number; in real life, you're not worth an emoji
Aren't you the overconfident battle rapper
That goes like this when you want to call it quits?
Well, you're the most nervous in the room, and my thoughts is this
‘Cause when you battle, your mouth does this awkward twitch
It was one battle, I thought you damn near bit off your lip
This is a gift, when they say Hollow, Lux, Clips
They don't bring up your ass
And I ain't sayin' you fuckin' trash, you upper class
You on the same plane, you just come in last
Like n***as with a buddy pass
I'm being humble, with no legend, you can get this match
I could've said deuces, me gettin' back on this card is just pity, Pat
Because you're a bully with no bars, this shit's just real
He flew to Sweden, mid-battle, he lifts up Nils
And he won that battle
Because that's the first time you picked up skills
That's how I feel, but they'll say, at least he's never choked
I'm like, "Aw, shucks, it was that one miracle
When the best in Canada couldn't get charged up."
And let's not forget that The Saurus stuff
You was— you was— you was starstruck
Couldn't finish your scheme, you're a vending machine
Because sometimes you get your bars stuck
But "it'll still be a tie whether he wins or not"
Wait, ain't that somethin' Rone started?
Or he'll say, "The gun's hereditary, it's in my jeans."
Oooh, that was so heartless!
"A Canadian's stealing the show tonight" every motherfuckin' time
Because you was standin' right behind Rone when he said it
And they still reacted to that motherfuckin' rhyme
It's just nonsense, the dunk contest
It's nothin' new, but you'll still see people jumpin' from the line
He's a meth buzz, or poppin' a stick while you wet up
I'm a brick or better
N***a, I'm Vicodin, methadone, and Dapper Dan mixed together
I'm a gallon of Whiskey in the Prohibition era
I'm with whatever
I said you lost, and you don't have an Addy
Your moms call you "Patty-watty"
For talkin' about my pockets with OVO
Now the hood call you Chatty Patty
And I'ma make him feel so stupid
Like having a condom, and don't use it
You're in denial about my banks – well, damn, my flow fluid
But act stupid, I had him dispatch units
They'll be like, "It's only one dead, but it was a MASS shooting."
Fuck spoon-feedin' these bars, I'm mazin' them
Put away the Sahara and make it Seattle with the Harley Davidson
I got through security because it was Stacey Augmon nickname
Errrk, I see I'm losin' y'all, let me switch lanes
Swear to God in your compliment battle rap, it was some battle rappers that didn't get paid
Bitch, don't just stand there, I'll say which names
Okay, you don't want to say nothin'?
He ain't pay Marlo and Shuffle-T
And they flew way in from London, b
Ohhh, you too dumb to see
You cursed our battle with your fuckery
But they'll say Pat Stay's fuckin' street
He walked around the hood, shirt ripped like He-Man
Holdin' two guns at once
Even though he could've put them in each hand
At one time, he came to the hood
And he had n***as shook when he backed out the heat, fam
Only reason n***as was scared?
He held the gun in the police stance
I knew rap money was like trap money
When Liv made 140 off of one jugg, that's a lot of paper
Fronted 20 joints, got 60, that was profit later
That was Texas, then we hit Nevada, Vegas
Even sold n***as in the Bean pies, as-salamu alaykum
Don't worry about the gear, or don't worry what I got on
But if you is worried, LOMclothing.com
…
Sike, I lied! I got a hitman that Holla knows
It go "Boom!" if your Ah Di knows
It's horror, even Shotty knows
Double-barrel on the shotty nose… longer than Shotty nose
[Round 2: Pat Stay]
About that compliment battle, you got that shit wrong, dude
Them dudes did get paid, I swear on my mom deuce
You got your shit twisted, Rob Zombie-twisted
Oh, Rob Zombie twisted? Zombie robbed you
I heard you was locked in prison, c… cool
My father built it, we the real gangsters, bankers and politicians
My uncle did the same crime, never got convicted
We can knock the hustle, but you can't knock the privilege
Knock-knock – nope, this is not a visit
Chop-chop – yep, you just got evicted
Leave your family homeless without a pot to piss in
Turn your whole block to a lot and start a business
You feel that, everyone? Awkward, isn't it?
Closet-racist white people acting all offended
Now, obviously, I'm kiddin', but if we swap positions
And he called me a cracker or somethin'
It'd be fine – what a walking contradiction!
Yo, I ain't racist, nah, but my shank is
Because the blade tip's brown
From all the dried-up blood that it's stained with
You said our fear in others increases the darker the shade is
Hell no, speak for yourself, bro
But you're yellow, that's why you're afraid, bitch
Fuck race! I discriminate all
Get hit in the jaw, your chin'll just fall, like a ventriloquist doll
I'll leave a hole where your face is, like you gettin' a massage
And turn you into the next Prince like kissin' a frog
And if that don't finish the job
And somehow you survive it, I'm back at you
Shootin' through the side of your Uber drive
I don't care if you're scuba-divin'
I'll toss a bomb and it nuke the island
If you're flyin', first episode: I'll shoot the pilot
Plain and simple
Field goal-kick your momma Donna like Ray Finkle
Laces out, like they got me in state pen clothes, mental case
Tell Donna spread those legs
And blow inside her like a Nintendo game that just won't play
I'm Pat Stay – crazy, isn't it?
Y'all ain't ever seen that before, like a baby pigeon
You a bitch like pregnant women
I'm about to end this lame's existence
My whole— wait a minute
Let's celebrate some of your greatest writtens
You said to Surf, "I'm like the chicken pox
You touch me, you're gonna get it."
At that point, I said to myself: "Fuck… I'm finished."
I got the scoop, because I'm a lyrical shovel, can you dig it?
Watched your Okwerdz battle and said: "Stop! Hold up!"
You said, "You're like creamy peanut butter
Because you ain't got no nuts."
That was his third round ender too, Nigel, what in the fuck?!
All peanut butter is literally made with nothin' but nuts
It's called peanut butter… it's peanut butter
And I knew you seemed a bit self-conscious
But I'm certain now, because you said to Budden
"Yo, you probably talk to a girl like, 'I like your skirt and gown'."
The fuck's wrong with that? It just irks me how
It's like a weakness being a genuine person now
Then he said this how he be
"Ayy, turn around! Look at you turning down."
You think any decent woman would answer to that?
You're a clown! That's some young boy scrub shit
You're in your thirties now
Bro, I see right through that defensive pride and nervous smile
"Yo, Pat ain't seen his girl in a year
Psh, probably miss that bitch
I bet when he see her he'll probably kiss that bitch
He'll probably hug that bitch, he'll probably rub that bitch
Matter of fact, tuh… You probably fuckin' love that bitch!"
They say if you don't treat your lady right, somebody will
So your boy had to come for the kill
Check it, I said, "Damn, them stilettos are ill!"
I'd never met her, but still
I got brains from her, head over heels
The girl had my heart thumpin' like ephedrine pills
I have died through the head like Cruella De Vil
Compliments all day, whee-whoo, Slim Jesus!
Confidence through the roof, had the bitch just leakin'
All game, son, tappin' it on the low like a bass drum
Nuttin' inside of her: that's where Hollow stole the name from
But fuck that, I'ma ruin these so-called street rappers
Half of Mobb Deep's rappers: I wreak havoc
I'll slash them, leave them in stitches and heat, laughin'
Deep gashes, you'll see patches, like Team Captain's jackets
I be snappin', complete blackness
All I see's fire, but I'll just keep clappin'
But I don't even need that, I'll Zangief-slap him
The flinch make him lean back, like he's relapsin'
He got to know my hands so well, "If you read my palm," he said
Slapped him so hard I became a believer because my palm was red

[Round 3: Hollow Da Don]
I see you wrote some funny shit in your diary about me
A lot of nonsense
I'm not a humanoid, I'm a standard copy Anunnaki
Let me take you through my writing process
I said schemes, y'all put a pawn to come play the best
He can have a good night, it's still an L he's gonna take, then check
You want the king or queen?
Wait, this ain't a scheme about playin' chess
It was made for beds
Good night, king and queen, you get laid to rest
Nameflips, I'm not here to talk about Organik, I ain't call Watson
Still wish death for you
This time, Charles Bronson mixed with Bernard Hopkins
Handle whites, my Miami Vice: Don Johnson
You look like you ready to throw in the towel; John Thompson
URL's the NBA, and you ain't even John Stockton
You just on the sideline, talkin' about the league: you Bob Costas
Future, wait, I'm in the future, I already seen that
Boop-boop, let me pull up my screen app for some feedback
I'm so ahead of my time
Places people tell me to meet at, I already be at
I'm so ahead of my time
I already did this recap for this rematch
I got shoes that tie themselves, I got a car that drive itself
Then it hit me, I woke up in a dark room all by myself
Like, why I'm tryin' to switch the angle?
The crowd here, y'all cheer, I'ma let y'all pick the angle
Should I talk about Drake diss or the gay shit?
Drake diss? Okay, Drake diss, gay shit—either way, it's the same shit
You dissed Drake for buyin' a bitch a purse
My n***a, did you want a purse?
Aw, Patty-watty, tell us how it hurts
Then he tried to clean it up
After he ain't get that extra 10k in his hand
He was like, "I'm still a Drizzy fan
He's a busy man, he'll hit me when he can."
Really, fam? You think Drake at King of Diamonds
Like, "Bitch, get off me! I can't get this dance!
You know what I'm going through?! I owe Pat Stay hella bands!"
He meet with Lil Wayne, "Sit down, this the plan, I'm in a jam
Push back Carter 5
It don't matter how many chipped and scanned
That n***a big advanced
I just sold Aaliyah's album and Timbaland."
Really, fam? So Drake's your day one?
He was supposed to been loyal?
You was tryin' to eat from what was left over
And he didn't have that ten for you?
To you, that probably wasn't real shit, but what's real is
I just cut the rest of my third round
Since you said I was in prison, I got a rebuttal, y'all gotta feel this
The type of shit I don't be mentionin'
When I was in imprisonment, I used to help my cellmate write his letters for his family, he illiterate
I only charged him a lunch tray, because the n***a indigent
The judge hit the n***a with a dub, and he innocent
To you, that's probably the realest shit, but to me, that's a tragedy
Somethin' you would love to rap about
But somethin' I hate that I had to see
I only did a couple years, Bird spent so much time in a box
Germs forgot how to spin time on the clock
And when I sat back and thought about it, and why, I was shocked
It was a set-up system, when CEO's met with prison
Pushed gangster rapper, reflect the image
Because extra victims meant extra business
But why would they do that?
Because they got first dibs on the stock to invest up in it
Within 24 months, that was several digits
It went from Kid 'n Play, House Party, special kickin'
To "Think I'm kiddin'? Play!
Everybody in this house party I'm pistol whippin'!"
Think about it, nobody slipped the disc in
To Luther when they was pistol whippin'
It was n***as with an attitude, ready to die, because it was written
Around the time when my favorite rapper went from negative positive, it was still a negative in his positive
Because if B.I.G. never rapped
He'd be here to see C.J. and T'yanna live
But now, 20 years later, we got a dude talkin' about, "I'm real"
You real? That's why I switched the mood to an interview
I need you to define real
Uhm, Mr. Stay, uhm, could you define "real"?
[Pat Stay] Yellow!
Oh, you're tryin' to be funny, you're lyin' still
Please, please, Mr. Stay
Mr. Stay, we need you to define "real"
No? Okay, I got another question before we all go
Tell me, how does it feel
Being the first battle rapper that got 4-0'd?
He doesn't want to talk, okay, one more
Maybe if I wasn't so tall, you could've told short jokes
Maybe if I wasn't so light, you could've told dark jokes
Maybe if I was fat, you could've told fart jokes
But we all know, it's bars over jokes
Fraud n***a, all blickers
After this it'll be the next body to pop up in the Charles River

[Round 3: Pat Stay]
He wants me to speak that real shit, so we'll do it, alright?
Real shit, I know this probably hurts for you to hear
But you're my brother
We go back longer than the shirts we used to wear
You know, them one-size-fits-all?
Mankind, and giants, rams, lions? Hands, pants findin'?
We've been in this shit a long damn time, you can't lie
We probably got more in common than dudes in your main clique
We both fought for the spot and went through all the same shit
We both started from the bottom, like— heh, how ironic
Because we both gave classics and never got paid shit
Bro, I had so much respect for you as a man vers' Budden
How you held us down in that first round
Made us proud to actually stand for somethin'
We all felt that pain for you
You hate them dudes – we hate them, too
The way they screwed you out the pay-per-view
Gettin' paid off what we paid, and they paid no dues? Fuck that!
Talkin' about gettin' exploited by bigger companies
Lux demandin' 40 G's, it's becomin' a diva show
But fuck it, it's "Loyalty Over Money," right? Funny
Because look at you now, Nigel
I'm the old Hollow, and you're Joe
That England event was more so your show
I mean, you set up the battles, you set up the main event
Promised the promoters they'd make money, now they in debt
Manipulated them, don't give a fuck if they make a cent
Won't break a sweat if they don't have a pillow to lay their head
He'll act like your greatest friend
Then after the main event
Them hollow promises Hollow promises will take effect
When you pay him all of his money
You can't even pay your rent
And you don't hear this bloodsuckin' piece of shit's name again!
Bro, that "Sike, I Lied" shit you did against Clips
Was a funny prop at first
Until I saw you were actually selling them
And making money off the shirts
Catchphrase, bar or verse – regardless, it's Charlie's, not yours
The nerve of you profitin' off his long-earned, hard work
Tryin' to blackmail me for ten percent of the money Drake owes me
And I won't even get into that for your sake, homie
But bro, we are your peers, we're all we have in this business
You are the exact definition
Of everything you used to stand up against, man, listen
Your price is outrageous, too
You demand a cut from the pay-per-view
Which essentially means we're also payin' you
The leagues return profits in no way obtainable
All off an event that you don't have to pay into
But that ain't enough, so rip off your own neighbors, too
Exploit everyone for the work of which nothin' came from you
I'm fuckin' ashamed of you!
You've become what you hated, dude
I guess that's Hollow's mystique
The dude you face is who you change into
Look, he mad right now, probably mad I wrote this, right?
It was a last-minute decision, Pac's death: it happened overnight
Because I know your type
You're snake-eyed, so I wasn't goin' to roll the dice
What's "loyalty over money" if your loyalty's overpriced?
See, I didn't want to get personal with you
But you made it a personal issue
So I just had to just show you a reflection
Of what you've turned yourself into
But since your mirror's become a window
We see right through you inside-out
He can't even look in the mirror now
Won't even have one in his house
Been sleeping on Bishop's couch
And I didn't have to dig up dirt like you, neither
But since you lost your roots, my hate for you grew deeper
How you want it? Acapella? On beat? We can do either
We can spit on wax like a shoe cleaner
Fuck it, you want a war? I don't need a crew like you neither
Leave your new T-shirt red all over like a proofreader
It's over, dog, he knows it's true, you can tell by his eyes
But he'll deny it later, just defendin' his pride
What's new, Hollow? I hope you learned a lesson this time
So you can live up to your name, feelin' empty inside