[Verse 1: The Calcium Kid]
Yo, yo, I was gonna battle Troy Brown, but I didn’t want to
I stay digging for Jumanji in the thick of winter
I brought documented proof I’m a proficient swimmer if that helps you pick a winner
Sim simma, I’m on your block with a chip dinner
Let’s be more dramatic
Bruv this is my gaff, I’m autocratic
If you pull out a semi-automatic I’ll pull a pen and autograph it
I’ll outrun you barefoot in morning traffic
I’m so high right now that I’m not even present in the room
My favorite rapper will always be my reflection in a spoon
I’ve just got problems
What you know about one bounce bruv? You’re not made for that
I’m on your block with your neighbor’s cats collecting favors back
And before you say things that rap
That rhymes with ‘bacon wrap’
It doesn’t really
If you’re making stacks it’s pancakes
Motherfucker you’re not called Big T ‘cause you’re a gangster, you’re called Big T because you’re fat mate
Bruv, you lactate
When you got shot he was aiming about a yard that way
If you had straps raised, you’d have back pains
You woke up and you had back pains
Backstage, you had back pains
I hope you contract AIDS
It’s only a rap battle, it’s not really serious
And if you mention Good Will Hunting in this battle, I will end you
You got that chief?
[Verse 1: Big T]
Big Terrance
Big Terrance versus Jason Kelley
Is y’all ready?
A bunch of personals this time, plus my bars heavy
Look at him, sweating already, mom’s spaghetti
I’m lying, ‘cause in the States I’m taking a piss on this bitch, don’t nobody know who you are Kelley
This Big T vers’ Kid Calcium
I should have a kid with the 40 cal see him
Or mouth-feed him this banana clip, change his name to Rich In Potassium
Fo’-five on his back like MJ in a bad season
Before they ran up on his old man squeezing and stopped his dad breathing, some little heathen for no damn reason
Must’ve had wheezing ‘cause the chump, gave him the pump, like he had bad breathing
I initially started with two K’s like, Kim Kardashian
Initially, two K’s, Kim Kardashian, back and forward over the net, like ping pong champion
While y’all amping him
Y’all put him against Mister Chalaka-boo, AKA Mister Pew-ting
See, I don’t like the way you do things
You like to use things that don’t make sense, make it amusing
I’d rather, have two things and switch ‘em, up like a mood ring during a mood swing
Oh, you a comedian? Boo-bing, bah-bah, now it clap at his new standup routine
Ain’t no battle, in UK, without T in it
‘Cause this ‘bout to get shut down, like Skepta, shut down, control alt deleting it
Eurgh, who the one you wanna get, book it immediate
And Calcium, on the back of a milk carton like the key ingredient
It’s my greediness, in a battle, that’s why I take that serious
Because you like to play with people intelligence, and I take that serious
I know you was joking but, you like ‘woah, why you looking in my face that serious?’
Until I’m hitting him, and he like ‘bruv, it ain’t that serious’
See I’m curious, your rapping style is played out, you need a couple rapping stylists
It’s like you get your rhymes on RhymeZone and make a, bunch of raps around it
It’s like, a whole bunch of multisyllables and, a whole bunch of random shouting
And if it don’t work, you call him a fucking cunt, and everybody laughs about it
Boy that shit childish
Dissing yourself, third round of 8 Mile
It’s just, too, much monkeying around, it’s like, Planet of the Apes violence
Aw, the crowd don’t get me, they got they Miranda rights, they could forever remain silent
‘Cause a big boy snapping, they don’t want me to win, DJ Khaled
Quiet
[Verse 2: The Calcium Kid]
I don’t wanna be patronizing, but it’s pronounced patronizing
If I wasn’t here, I could supporting the 2Pac hologram on tour
But Sod’s Law, once into the breach once more
Yo Americans, yo Americans, yo Americans
Americans, Americans
I thought someone would shout back, but you’re a bunch of dickheads
Which of your ties want drugs?
Do you think I’m scared because you guys got guns?
Do you know how many times I’ve seen Die Hard One?
You don’t wanna fight with me I’m not the sort
Last night I phoned my mate to cop a quart and showed up on a rocking horse
If I didn’t have to be here I could be on my doctor’s porch, shotting port, screaming ‘we’ve gotta talk’
I like my full English with no syrup, ‘cause I’m sweet enough
My GP told me, ‘this isn’t your physician, I’m in the post office,’ so I beat him up
I could give a preheated fuck
What you know about ‘97 indoor FIFA?
What you know about the four-four sweeper?
What you know about that five-aside rush keeper?
It’s ironic, if Patrick Swayze was haunting Whoopi Goldberg, no one would believe her
Ayo Carter Deems
Ayo whose cats your cats, my cats dickhead
Hope you get well soon mate

[Verse 2: Big T]
I’m ‘bout to start off with a bunch of 40 spitting
Where’s Freddie, Cruger? Get Jason ‘fore he’s missing
I heard you was the man up in school
That never was in demand up in school
The cat used to to run from him every day like Pepé Le Pew
Substitute teacher came in, he got his hand raised all bending the rules
Left the bathroom hair wet ‘cause they used to put his head in the stool
Aw man, he come around, had this pussy in the air like dude from Dirty Dancing’d do
While they swimming, they pissing, they dump ya’ head in the pool
He see me in the lunchroom and just hand him the food
I put my hand in the food, my germs, then hand him the food
But it’s all cool though, but y’all culo
You Mars Bruno, this all sumo
I give you props too ‘do, you bring out a draw too ‘do
Next time call Uno, give y’all kudos
N***a get it jumping, marsupial
I go to places y’all do go, next time call Uno
Listen, I come around, TECs are spraying
I get it jumping, marsupial
They all soup you, don’t listen to ‘em, ‘cause I’ma shoot you
The arm’ll suit you, better hope the armor suit you
‘Cause you could get fucked any way it go: Kama Sutra
This could go, either way in the streets, the car in neutral
This ain’t what you used to, you talking voodoo, with Shaka Zulu
This little bitch, keep getting on my nerves, na-na boo-boo
Nah nah, booh booh
I turn this pasta to a ramen noodle
They like ‘Big T, you better leave London now ‘fore the cops pursue you’
Man I’ll be with my new booboo, Emily Tilly in Honolulu
They say, when you look like Biggie they be giving the wildest to you
But when you look like Big T, they be giving they wallets to you
Don’t need the twin T, one gun, I salute you
Dao, llamas to you
In the end, you getting a piece, like I’m a guru
All that means is TECs bursting, boo-blakas and shit
Rocket launchers and shit
Pick a person
Brrrraaah, even if I miss the person, I hit the person
Smack the gum out his mouth, I’m Mr. Perfect
Hercules, Hercules, I get to clapping, the shit is Sherman
I ain’t showing buddy love, I sip the serum, I turn into a whole different person
I put Ivory soap up in ya’ baby liquid dish detergent
He had y’all blinded, n***a he not in my league I’m in a different curtain
Quiet
[Verse 3: The Calcium Kid]
I have this battle in the palm of my hand
That shirt has more X’s than a birthday card from my nan
I’m from that four loosies from the [?] for ya’ bus fare
Punch and Judy, domestic violence: there’s a joke in there somewhere
You’re from Chicago
I didn’t write three rounds for you
I wrote Tom Cruise a letter bomb entitled ‘Why Can’t the Characters in Tekken Just Get Along?’
I don’t build sandcastles, I take them by force
I’ll reinforce the side walls and reconstruct five floors
I’ll ride and die ‘til the sky falls like Guy Fawkes
That probably doesn’t make any sense
You’re a trooper you are
I’m still tryna bring my own clouds to the beach
I’m still tryna take my nan’s VCR back without the receipt that she bought in two thousand and three
After this I’m tryna smoke a spliff so big they’ll find me at sea bound to a tree
Don’t think I have any more things to say to you to be honest mate
Don’t mock me now people, this is hard enough ‘cause I’m up here on me own

[Verse 3: Big T]
Somebody said this man wants me, pause
You can’t touch me, Sandusky, pause
I can tell his style gon’ get ugly, them one-liners bug me
Don’t nobody wanna see Calcium build up, he still rusty
Y’all put the one-liner, against the boo-blaka one punchliner gun rhymer
Ain’t no surprises
I bust the SIG, aim at ya’ lid like a sun visor
If you run and stuff I’ll make him give up a cut like a bus driver
I seen ya’ newborn baby no seatbelt front seat with a drunk driver
Wit’ ya’ baby momma by ya’, and a brake line cut
Semi truck impact, ‘cause his brakes got stuck
28 cars, bah, the 28 pile up
I thought he was saved by the bell he heard the screech it turned his bae side up
All I know, 808, I had base lined up
I would tell you but you point faces at the jakes lined up
I used to do those multisyllables, Eminem 8 Mile stuff
But now I’m running through the paper like a lawyer with his case piled up
Aw man, ‘cause I really don’t know what you rap about
These one-liners, it’s a little conceited, I see you wilding out
All I know I’ll bust the Smith and have something missing like, now let me check around the house
‘Cause this bitch getting fucked early tryna come up, like a casting couch
All I know, I’m going to the place he live
I don’t care if you got a good pastor, I’m coming for Jason kid
I’m even trying to get at him, even I take the ribs
Beam on his whole family, Honey, I Shrank the Kids
All I know, Calcium build bone structure
But I got bone structures of Bone Crusher
One ‘bow struck ya’, Rambo struck ya’, Sylvester Stallone brother
Bone-crusher, until it’s silicone structures
Or shaking, like the ooze from Ghostbusters
All I know, I come to raid with the stock
All I know, is everybody in ya’ place getting shot
Fuck it call the police, ‘cause it ain’t safe on the block
Not even for the cops
Quiet