BRN Battles : Loki vs U3

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U3's Verse

I'm bout to give you that Spartan arrow mate (aromate)
You wanted a heavyweight
Now you gon die testing the shot, the babalawo fake
Brace Yourself
You bout to see the intricacy of a rhyme god vs a hyped fuck
Divine touch
Think connections, im bout to give you that nice work
Loki You want the 9s or the knife cuts?
Code word "L lapses", Translation
Your times up
They say it's a battle of gods, let's get these teks popping
Head shot him
You'll go from being the bars guardian to lying in a box, that's a dead warden
Head shots only, bullets in his face go jam
I'm dropping Bucks to lift you to the skies like the space program
Bigger 9s, this shit will make him rattled
Catch him with his kids, point for the wards like we playing scrabble
Hold up
This is the negative image of the black man
Who cannot be helped by advisors or even a prophet
Lost nigga, how will you build an empire
When all your moneys in your mouth and nothing in your pocket
Machine gun to his stomach, one by one, shells have the loser coughing
And you know he dumb for eating those slugs, he full at 40
When you mention loki, niggas think of aggression, and that's not something to hype for
Basically, you only known for the front like Cossy Orjiakor
You dead meat, when the glock burst its a lost cause
Slugs lodge in your voice box
Copper on him, now he can't breathe, George Floyd.
That weed-coke he roll don't mean bro can fuck with me though
You dope right? (gunshot) the shot flip loki into a kilo
I ain't done with him though, he won't survive the next attachment
(gunshot)
Friends holding the kilo(key low) like a midgets apartment
That shit he smokes got him dreaming of heavenly decor
Daytime he's Loki
At night, he's Evelyn the whore
But this where the scene flip, big clips
PA PA.. Blow his back out, slipped disk
Think you a MODEL rapper?
This machine-gun will turn your clothes to Victoria Secret
I mean this, you a shitty rapper with bad writing
You were so shaky against kmac, we all thought you had arthritis
1st round you were on your feet, and you was fire
2nd and 3rd, you sat down, cause you was tired
Old ass bitch, you just never had the spark.. New appliance
I came to eat, this shit is a cakewalk.
You got killed by Icon, Kmac, blacklip
Can't even save yourself,
Bitch you a fake god
I'm sending him shots, open dome like JF Kennedy got
Better pray this guns a Mingla, cause that's the only way you not getting the bucks/box
Packs of C4, your body still smoking in the casket
you not a god, this kid is in denial like Moses in the basket.
You can't contest your fate
Heavy gunfire, it's that suppression spray
If this was 3 rounds, fans will shout oppression, hate
Now you getting all the bucks in a round, Collection plate
I pack big arms, boy you be moving lighter
Let off big shells, with L in front like a rookie driver
Boom
This metal I work out with is not a dumbell
Fuck L, the nina get L lit, I ain't talking top tier
Speaking of tiers
Boy you'll need your mouth repaired
Cause if Loki top tier, that bitch's blouse in shreds
Your life's ironic, fuck those fake baby yells
How your name Victor but you stay taking Ls?

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