 Yo, what's good at ThunderFlock Chicago? We're here at ThunderFlock USA's event number 3. Chicago, if you want to see some fucking battles, make some noise, let's go! Double fucking day, hashtag DFAMP. We've got 3 events over the next 14 days. This is battle number 1 of the first ever event. It's crazy to be out here in Chicago. Shout out to all the fans coming out this Saturday afternoon. Battle number 1 of the day. MC on my right-hand side. We've got Rusty Chains. Make some noise, let's go! MC on my left-hand side. Second MC of the day. We've got Clutch. Make some noise, let's go! Clutch, Clutch, Clutch, Clutch first round of the day. Don't float Chicago. Let's go. Alright, let's get it. Let's go! Erg asked me if I wanted to battle him. I said I don't know, I'm a little bit rusty. How much money? He said I don't know. Let me talk to Sunny. I'm thinking about 20. I've laughed and said, now I'm playing. I don't need nothing. As long as you give me that little dickhead rusty chains. A hotel with complimentary breakfasts and free muffins. Steve's coming. Because honestly, bro, I don't need the money like this shit stackin' bum. And if you knew what you're in for, you would've known paper wouldn't cover it like Big Daddy's son. And guess what, Rusty? I don't give a fuck if you go click-clack the gun. And in the name of Don't Flop, you little cunt, I'm about to bitch-slap your mom. Erg asks me why I've been gone. And honestly, dawg, it's a saturation. All I see is a bunch of fabricating whack rappers masturbating to their own YouTube views, exaggerating about the cash they're making. A bunch of 38-year-old faggots like Rusty here with no maturation on their mattress thinking with such imagination that 100,000 views will have to make them enough money to move out of Daddy's basement. And the tracks they're making and the fact they're taking the time to call Erg to get an ad to place him is gonna take them to the sky where they sign like an affidavit. But honestly, y'all, not a lot of them ball you think Conscious would call like they're just views. What a fuck are we that elated? And the sad part is it's mad contagious. And the fact is they got a bunch of Rusty chains coming back for greatness that's been 15 years. And you never made it past the basement? Now you're using battles to make it past the basics? Well, I got news, dude. You ain't half adjacent to the first floor, let alone cracked the pavement. You have better odds going back to Vegas, betting black on blacks to not get attacked by racist cops, getting a red dot to their pupil like they mastered lacing. And you face it. And that's the type of shit that I can't respect. You spitting these rhymes on lines like trying to get a wife online. He only here to grab a check. You've been making music for 15 years and it ain't happened yet. You think this is gonna help you grab some rep? Ask Averb. Image is the first thing and get into fans' respect. So get it in your brain. Man, it's all in your name. Change. If them things rusty, the fans can't connect. If this man's a wreck, he's 38 and just started battle rapping. You need to stop, bro. Because I don't think this tray's working out like Rondo. They said he could fight. That's the title. He gonna swing it. They said he could fight. That's his title. I'm thinking how. He's the size of a lawn gnome. Guarantee a little blow for me making lose that title like John Jones. And yeah, back in your day, you might have made a couple of hot songs, but you still older than my mom's mom. And for the battle vets, I'm here to send your soul like I got Tom's on. See, I can tell you're an amateur because your setups are softer than bonbons. When I battled real deal, he told me setups kill. You can't blow if you're making the bombs wrong. Basically, it's in between layers that make it hot like long johns. And with that said, I'm about to pull my dick out on the game like I'm brawl brawl. I got to put the fucking west on my back like bronze, mom. If I catch a... In this jargon, son, you getting popped on. I'm gonna catch it easy like a stock pond. That one whistled out the whip, bitch. It's like I saw a hot blonde. And you need to drop the pom-poms for real. You need to eat another meal. And with that weird-ass haircut, you look like a penis with a grill. Motherfucker, we should change your name from Rusty Chains to Dip Daddy. Maybe ball wall. Who the fuck... Who the fuck you killing? You the size of a palm all. I grab your little dome and squeeze it like a palm ball. Have your jaw all fucked up so you can't drink. Like you on call, steal rust. He'll get peaceed out. That's a Saul's all round one. Clown's done. I'm gone, y'all. R.U. S.T.Y. Battle scars to prove that I'm the illest from the shy. Sorry I left. I had some gloomy days. That's for my real fans. But I've done some sun-gazing. Recharged the Pied Neil-Gland. Now I'm focused. And they talking guns when I bring a 50-kill fam. I'm at his door with the glass bottle like a milkman. That's worth it again. That's worth it. In the rivals, I was bludgeoning you to death. For crack the bottle on the steps and fucking hundred proof your neck. Whom are you living? Whom are you living? All depends on which thumpin' you select. Cause a 40-calin under's not coming through the vests. But fuck guns. Fuck guns. I cause pain you can't ease with anesthetics. With dual blazed it. Both strike pressure points. Some ambidextrous. So can the reference a gas? You tell me once that you gon' blast the tickets over. I will butt you and show this whole crowd what you had for breakfast. I'm mad aggressive. Like wild apes when you stuff them in the cage. We'll try some monkey business here, bitch. I'll stuff you in the grave. I will C-section and cut your fucking stomach with the blade. Now DNA and chess ain't the only ones whose guts been on the stage. Who precise so? If you get cocky rockin' a date and you will lose your life. Homie, fuck Mollie Wock in your face and I'll pull the Bowie knife. I feel like God when sliding a blade in. I put metal under your skin like body modification. Don't get Mayweathered. Don't get Mayweathered. I'll bring heat like Arizona Mayweathered with my numbing punches that leave the stem of your brain severed. I'll catch you and your bitch while you window shopping some gay sweater than kidnap you. I'll catch you and your bitch while you window shopping some gay sweater than kidnap you. Put rags to your faces like you gang members. You should've ran away better, but now you gotta wake up, taped up inside of the dark window as Paytrop did a sight of me waving a knife at your wife. Screaming that I hate sluts and sticking that bitch in toasting squirts all over the van like bang busts. I'll buy him shit to watch, but I'll make clutch with a tightly tied Gore-Tex boot to the head and lace clutch get stomped on both feet. Rights and less when I'll break clutch. I'm like a blind person standing in front of chains. You'll get your face touched. See I'm desk designed. I bet you beg for this battle since your reps decline. But I won't lose to a dude who spends his time committing sexual crimes. Facebook models can get rejected every time. So many bitches have blocked you that can start their own defensive line. Probably because they've seen his mouth. Just keep the splint like a cheating spouse. The right one got to keep the house and the left one got to keep the couch. See I know my teeth are bad, but you've never been to a dentist's liar. I bet you could bite a rooster and it's cooped through the chicken wire. Because that gap in your front teeth is gigantic. Graham Canyon, I bet you don't even have to open your mouth to eat a ham sandwich. Smash it through the gap in two. Look at all the stupid. Same thing when he drinks. He just smiles and puts the straw through it. You got two big teeth and then a bunch of little teeth. And the space between the big teeth can fit a bunch of little teeth. It's so wide if I try to hit you in the mouth I'm probably missing teeth. That gap in your face and you're not even missing teeth. Alright, check it. N.W.A. Yeah, yeah. Check it. Rusty 38 and he ain't got a job. Nino. Because of laughing, because of motherfuckers. Ball. Chemo. And who are you kidding motherfuckers? You're too small. Nino. And if you ask him what he covered in the mall. Jinkos. I guarantee you back in the day he used to rent by CP. And Rusty's got a tech. Degree from ITT. If you let this drug addict in your house you better say bye TV. He gonna be hitting when I'm surfing on it. It's like it's Y.K.K. You think this guy B.G. Fuck Rusty chains. I'll get Rusty slain with a Rusty blade. Put the iron to oxide. I think that's how Rust is made. See this is our leader Prince Nassim. We don't punch the same. I slam his head. Give him that Gumby frame. I told you I've been itching the box. Er, thanks for giving me this Undy stain. I'ma roll up on chains while he's slaying an H and nothing but tube socks. Tell him give me your stash fag. I don't care if your spoon's hot. He don't give it up. Get stabbed in the top of the dome. I'll make Rusty a juice box. If that don't work, dear mama. I'ma send Rusty to Tupac. Bow. Bow. I hit Rusty with two shots. Have Rusty moving back. I'll teach Rusty to move walk. Rusty without a shoulder. Rusty without a shoulder. Now Rusty's a tube top. That's what Rusty get for not giving up the Rusty balloon knots. Rusty got a wife, but she musty. She is ugliest Chewbac. So you always see Rusty shootin' Crusty's in tube socks. She only there every day to give Rusty his flu shot. Plus he broke every time you see a billy choke. I think Rusty is boondocks. Damn. I do box. You gonna let that tube pop? Oh well, brethren. Pistol whipping. He could catch up behind the head like Odell Beckham. Odell Beckham. I got a question. How was your wedding? Cause your wife has the same exact body as Mood Swanks. Damn. I bet in Colorado, when she jumps on her little scooter, she takes up two lanes, jumps off, leaves that bitch with a poop stain. I'm like Rusty, how you say you move flame like butane. Fantasy baseball pitch and switch. The only time you've ever moved cane. If Rusty's sayin' he gon' let that tube bend, you gon' see my suit chain like Bruce Wayne. Invader player circle, disturbing with the piece. That means you catchin' two chains. You gon' have to come real familiar with 911, like that movie Loose Chains. Cause somewhere there's a line to me eatin' you. I gotta get my food chains. I'm a trained assassin. Stuff chains while chains is rappin'. Get his neck slain. God damn it. That's a chain reaction. You got that low voice. But you're still a bitch like Tracy Chapman. And Rusty motherfucker, you're a nerd. Help me quit crazy actin'. I wouldn't influence a fuckin' bit if they told me you had a lady's name on your lower back or a baby dragon. And honestly, God, you seem hella stressed. You need to quit maniacin'. After this battle, man, I want you to do me a favor. I want you to go watch that YouTube video with that chocolate labby in the popcorn and the baby laughin'. After you run it back like 10 times, start on a hashtag, make a caption, put it on Facebook. It's gonna make you feel hella good, man. Go make it happen. All right. So you left Colorado for San Fran. Opponent-wise, you're the gayest ever. T-sever. Gotta flip my keyship in this lame contendancy. I moved away from Chicago, homeboy. You ran away from Denver and moved to San Francisco to change your gender like Caitlyn Jenner gets straight. You ain't spit one hard line. Just a bunch of whack, multi-syllabic subpar rhymes. I should leave your mouth red like you was drunk off wine, but now I'm tired from all the melee. It's gun-bar time. Son, if I pull the caption, it's going down. That's clutch's baby mama. Murder you on holy ground and cause your family crazy trauma. You'll get to cease. Don't airbrush rest in peace when I bang the llama and hack your face. Print it on more T-shirts than Che Guevara. I'll run up on you in a Ronald Reagan mask with a new chopper than Biggie Smalls and Tupac. People won't know who shot you. Two shots to your wig. Boo! Baka when I rage a crib and smoke you. Give you that waka-flaka when I flame a cigarette. So you strapped to? Well good, homie, my aim's nice. I never miss one spray from the can. I'll leave you pale white. That's ready whip. I'll come to the bay and leave you floating in it when the desi hits. Burn you with the arms. That's a clear body. Jellyfish. Hold the steel and hold the steel to your head till you hold and steal the bite. Leave blood trickling down your neck like Holyfield and clap to bystanders. Got my fans like homie chill. That's overkill. There's nothing but dead bodies on this soldier's field. So yeah, that's right. Ah shit, soldier's field. There's nothing but dead bodies on this soldier's field. So welcome, clutch. I had to greet you. Arms out like I'm glad to see you. Then put you in the dirt to get planted deeper than man. The V is in half the reason I reference planets. This cat is sweeter than ballerina's. A half a liter of sangria with apple teas and dacarita. Facing off with you is just weird. You battled conceded in real deal. You're still not even mid-tier. Well, let me put this in simple terms to make the shit clear. It took me six battles to get here. It took you six years. I made moves like a poltergeist for 20-plus years perfecting lyrics when I hold the mic. That's how I survived taking rounds to the head like Obi-Trice. Now people thinking I'm Jesus in these battles like I'm rowing fight. All right, check it. You are 38 and just fell in love with battle rapping. Homie, you're a fact for that. He got a couple homies that are going to suck him off and pat his back and he'll get dafts for that. And that's cool because what I'm mad about is the satisfaction that your daughter won't have a chance to because of faggots and some sagging pants smoking blunts on his way to the cash advance. All your homies in Colorado told me you go out and smoke the shit. Get faded on the happenstance. Rusty likes to put the powder on top of ice in a ride. That's an avalanche. Look at me, Rusty. Let me speak to you man-to-man. Let me speak to you man-to-man. Because motherfucker, you look exactly like an attic fan. He don't even have a car. Attic man don't have a van, but he always around a Benzo, so I guess that he had a van. And somehow in Colorado he captured fans. So I ran when I saw the Pakistan's a bunch of backpackers from Dragonland, World of Warcraft magic fans coming to the battles meffed out playing Clash of Clans. And Rusty's got a daughter, but she ain't got a father. He don't even call or nod. He don't even bother. She ain't eatin' off him though. He's still eatin' off her. He just got his new fat wife, but his taxes still read a single father. Child support, not a single offer. She don't even have to look under the bed. She just looks up at her dad to see that fuckin' evil monster. And how'd you lose her Rusty? Was it all them nights when you were tweakin' proper? You should've laid off the pipe Rusty. Now life, trust me, it's hard for her to get decent water. So thanks to you and all them nights with snow, she gon' turn into that little girl that love bikers, liars, she'll die for dough. She gon' get on stage dirty, grind for moe, livin' in dirt. No one gardener, quite the hoe from tweaker to twerker Rusty. Now's how the cycle goes. Shit. Damn. Goddamn. I'm gonna tweaker to twerker Rusty that's how the cycle goes. And I'm gonna give you a chance and say maybe, just maybe, you weren't the piece of shit that fucked up and your wife played you, got your daughter through some lies and shit. And if that's the case, you piece of bat dick wasting, I got a question why you didn't try a bit, because the same thing happened to me when I was five and shit. My crackhead mom tried to take me, but my dad wanted to make sure my life's legit. So he fuckin' turned into a lion with his pride and wouldn't let me slip away from his lifeless grip. And from that day forward, he worked every day on that iron piss from five to six stacked every penny. Though times a bitch, he spent his last dollar on that lawyer. It wasn't like he's rich and he was able to take me away from that spineless bitch. So my question is Rusty, so my question is Rusty, was it just too mixed up with the drugs like a scientist to try a bit? Or did you just not have a job and it cost too much to smooth it out like Vitamix? Either way, either way, when I look at you, you're a pile of shit for not giving your little daughter the most priceless gift of seeing daddy every day. But thanks to YouTube, she's just a battle-wrapper way. Go get a like. No facts at all. That was cute. Just like me getting watched on Facebook by girls, that's real. Just making sure to talk about all the facts. Now I'm levels better than you, clearly. This really is a fact. You sound corny in your battles and cheesy on the track. You force your multis, but the thing I find equally as whack is the way you talk about black people when you rap. I think you hate people with melanin. I'm sad and it's the truth. You don't believe me? Go back and watch us battles for the proof. This was a racism contest. This match would go to you and I would just be happy that we didn't battle on the roof. Yes, you do that shit in every battle. Even versatile white opponents just random racial slurs about some black dude that his wife is boning. And I can quote it, every bar, so go ahead and deny it, B. You don't incorporate hate. Just look him in his eye and see. Rewind the grind time Chicago. They had some crazy spitters and he was there. Called himself a crazy mixture of 80 hitlers. Then you called P.T. a gay black. You basically called him a... Never mind. But I'm sure y'all got the picture. I'm sure y'all get the picture. I'm sure y'all get the picture. Let's go, keep going, come on. Let's go, you got this. You got this, bro, let's go. I'm sure y'all get the picture. Okay, just trust me. Hold on. So you wanted them dudes perpetuating a mindset that needs to vanish. I bet you roll your eyes when you hear Latinos speaking Spanish. You say things like... Say things like, why is it America's job to feed the planet and I can't even get a job because of all of these illegals? Damn it, you need to. Do it here when shit is getting ugly. I'll punch you into the crowd. You get ignorant or rusty in Chicago. We don't think bigotry is funny. This the second most segregated city in this country. Race relations, crime and murder is causing line behind the hearses. Preachers reading Bible verses. Shorties in the streets is dying with no reason, rhyme, design, or purpose. And people outside the state in this country treat it like it's some kind of circus. Well, this is not shy rat. You are not welcome here. We'll set you up, get you drunk, hit you with the Belvedere. Check it up. Got to check it up. White shit, it gets you shot. We don't fuck with Elvis here. I got dudes in the crowd now. They really dump shells in here. Shit, you don't miss me with the heat talking, me mugging in front. And I'll drop you off in the hundreds. You'll eat slugs by the dozen. You think I'm tripping on this racist eat dog and you bugging. I got homies from here that's dead for trying to beat dogs when they wasn't. We was out there. We was out there taking risks, trying to get some bread. We wasn't online posting battles, trying to get some cred. Wrapping on the web my homie tried to slang in the stones hood and they sniked them in the head With the full blown psycho of a lyricist I'll spill blood in your pads. It's like holes on a period You got two options die a slide forward get serious. Trust me getting shot in your head is a mind-blowing experience You ain't never dug graves and took blades and made money and took L's in the illegal drug trade It was dug trays. I'll leave your team wet when it subsprays. I'm like tsunamis in Thailand I'll take your city. I was one way so jump over fam. I think you've had enough Somebody come scrape this pussy off the stage and bag them up. It's go ill I came with bars to make Chicago fans erupting right in the fucking streets like we just want to stay