KOTD баттл: Hollow Da Don vs Pat Stay (русские субтитры)KOTD баттл представляет противостояние канадского рэпера PAT STAY и американского баттлового МС HOLLOW DA DON. Зрелищная масорубка, сделанная из рифм и панчлайнов, созданная специально для поклонников баттловой рэп культуры. Присаживайтесь поудобнее и начинайте просмотр. Не забываем оставлять комментарии. Смотреть баттл "Hollow Da Don vs Pat Stay": Hollow Da Don is widely considered one of the best, if not the best battle rapper in the United States. From freestyles to writtens and creativity to aggression, he has covered every aspect of battling that exists. On top of that, having been in the game for years upon years and battling in a variety of leagues from Grind Time to SMACK/URL, Hollow has solidified his legacy in the battle rapping scene indefinitely. On May 15th, 2016, Hollow Da Don makes his legendary King of the Dot debut against fellow battler, Pat Stay. Pat Stay, like Hollow, is considered the top of the elite in his own country as well. Hailing from Canada, he has managed to put on numerous outstanding performances for several years, mainly on the King of the Dot platform. Battling formidable opponents like Arsonal and Dizaster helped him to ascend to the top of the game, as he boasted his wide set of skills, very similar to that of Hollow. Pat has succeeded in gaining the respect of both Canadians and Americans, not to mention countless of other battle rap fans across the world. Analyzing their bodies of work over the years, it’s safe to conclude that Hollow Da Don and Pat Stay have many parallels between each other. Both are considered the best in their countries, arguably two of the greatest of all time. Now, they must decide who is the greatest. Текст баттла "Hollow Da Don vs Pat Stay": [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, nigga, 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, nigga, 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 nigga pissed, so you know a nigga 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," nigga, 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 niggas 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 Nigga, 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 niggas shook when he backed out the heat, fam Only reason niggas 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 niggas 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 nigga, 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 nigga 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 nigga indigent The judge hit the nigga 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 niggas 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 nigga, 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 The official release of the epic match-up that turned into a one-rounder at BOTBUK.
Who: Hollow Da Don (Queens, N.Y.) vs. Pat Stay (Dartmouth, N.S., Canada) Where: Battle Of The Brave's "Birth Of The Brave" in London, England When: Dec. 6, 2015 |
17-07-2016, 20:26
Раздел: Баттл KOTD
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