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[DJ Lambs]
All right, all right, holy shit
Right here we got the battle of the buddies
Otty Otto vs. Peenut King
Get him, your highness
[Peenut King]
Yo, how you think you’re gonna best me in this showdown?
You came here with a fringe jacket like it’s a hoedown
This ain’t a rodeo, clown, but I can’t expect you to know this shit
I don’t know if you’ve noticed it, you like in a barrel, dawg
Oh, damn, I’m getting Otis pissed
He’s infuriating, maddening, become bitter
The only way this dick’s a jailbird, is if he litters
Otters belong in the river, not in a fucking trashcan
Oh, I’ve pissed him off, he’s ’bout to go smash, bam!
Crashing into shit like he’s a fucking dreidel at Hanukkah
You shouldn’t even entered this battle, you’re a goner, bra
Diamond, carats, ducats, gold, platinum, bronze
Fucking crown atop my head, while you got your barrel and your long johns
You’re fucking dead, muskrat, you’re going down at dusk, cat
Got you in the guillotine, at the gallows, not on the mat
I’m in the lab cooking up a storm for you to smoke
A nose-full of methamphetamine will make you croak
Just imagine the heroin-induced stroke
What’s the matter with your grimace, dawg? Can’t you take a joke?
You’re getting pigeonholed as a white trash barrel-ridden bum
You’re stuttering over there like you got a mouthful of cum
You look like you just chugged a fifth of rum
I’m bagging you’re fucking face, and you’re the scum
[DJ Lambs]
Oh, shit
What a rap
Damn nice flows
Okay, let’s hear it river rat
[Otty Otto]
All hail beloved King Peenut
Leader of the chivalry
Royal fucking emperor
I’m seeping down your pant-leg like fucking piddle, see
I’m taking you down, single or double leg, it don’t matter
You’ll drink till you tingle, or bubble keg, like you’re the last batter
And you fuck up
You calling me pigeonholed? Your snobby, rich white ass
Didn’t struggle growing up, you have a fabricated past
You’re looking aggravated, as if I won already
Cause your raps made me wanna vomit like Marshall Mather’s mom’s spaghetti
When I set up my raps I had an arsenal gather
My flows so wet and sharp, acting like cervical slashers
One of Simba’s sons should’ve been king
Your dad murdered his way to the top
But then when you murdered him, you act like you and Simba’s positions swapped
He could’ve still been king, he wasn’t bedridden or comatose
When I fuck these raps, you can sniff an aroma rose
You’re a fucking faggot pussy Peenut
You are not a king
You got caught in the back of your throne
Doing a Clinton, with an intern
Sucking your ding-a-ling
[DJ Lambs]
Oh shit
Two great raps but the river raps overcame you
Sorry, your highness
Good job Double O
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