[Round 1: JC]
I used to say it was hard to look at a n***a
And tell who capable of aiming the chrome
But if we both said we sparkin'
That's like Martin; they all know you playing, Jerome
And I know where you staying, Jerome
I'm a cash crook, I can get your stash took
You don't want your apple in your lap
Then when I air MAC's, book
I mean, image ain't everything, right?
But you nowhere close to tough
What you got, a couple schemes and some slow it downs?
n***a, you rap slow enough
See, you the type we can tell frontin', I got Hell crumplin'
This Training Day, I see anything or smell somethin'
We clapping birds, like Denzel comin'
So, n***a, talk or sit the f** down
If you ain't tryin' to get involved
‘Cause I will drop this f*g with one shot 'til the chin chilla soft
Now wait, we all heard Ciddy say that, right?
He said it ‘cause a chinchilla's soft
I said it ‘cause the chin on Chilla's soft
And we all know Chilla's soft
Nobody feeling Chilla, but Chilla feel he the realest out
‘Cause he spit filler but that shot to Chilla chin
Gonna knock the filling outta Chilla mouth
Let's pop it, see, you gotta convince these real n***as that you a real n***a and the best way to do that, be real, n***a
So let me guess, you got rocks to move?
You sell it? You on the block with tools?
Armed with Glocks to shoot?
Stop it! For profit you seem like you would drop some dudes'
Names in this game, try to tell, them knuckles
Leave him balled up, like when Sonic boost
Or I could make a phone call, get this lame f*g murked
Bang metal, like a train crash
I bang mags, let that thang blast
Hit n***as and the clip bigger if I aim bad
See, in my own eyes I done noticed the top spot get rusty
So I'm co*ky, ‘cause ain't enough n***as to stop me, trust me
Plus you do minimal damage, b
I mean, damn, it's me, the fans'll see
Beef? I'll let hammers speak
We all know Boston can't handle heat
So once that chrome spit, his dome split
I'm a boss, ten'll leave his bean baked in a box
Since he homesick
Now, why every time a n***a gets close to another n***a
He gets certified for acting tough?
But what about that other n***a that don't budge
‘Cause he already know the n***a acting tough?
I'ma tell this f*g actor once: get out of line, pa** or bump
I'ma react with the fastest punch
They ain't gon' have no choice but to turn this b**h from Smack to Snuff. You just lost round 1…
[Round 1: Chilla Jones]
I rap depressin' and lack aggression, right? Simple
Well, I punch nice as Kimbo
Homie, you wanna bet? It's curtains
I'll bring pain if you try and win dough
You couldn't duck these bars and now your life's in limbo
See, my men so un-f**ing-stoppable, that when I tell 'em bring heat to the crib he in it's nothing tropical
The topic though, I belong in every top five
But since you close to the Motor City, I'll show you I got drive
My shorty hood with junk in her trunk, the flair concealed
With a silence to muffle her sound, so break if she air the steel
So don't bump her, look near her grill, and forget her number
Tryin' to ask'll offend her more than staring will
She get a tonic and gin, then when it's gone and expired
I'll spoil her with the D, Cal, 'til she's exhausted and tired
You rep Pontiac on that G sh**, but you don't own a gun, liar
So I'ma give this G six for y'all thinking that son fire
And here's why you ain't a punchliner
‘Cause versus Time Bomb you said "When I come around, that jazz go out the window, n***a; I'm Uncle Phil."
But using bars like that against me, and you'll be done for
From what I've seen, Jazz be getting thrown out the front door
So why would you say window?
Well, this reason makes the best sense
You from the glove, right? So you never seen fresh prints
He stepped tense, what it is then, G? I'm real too
Them slimes keep one mag
Get scum bagged with that steal too
So act filthy rich or talk grimy they'll k** you
That's for a stack, dirty, so imagine what a mil do
See, children created the rules, I'm a straight threat
You beat Raw, now they thinking you ill? Well I'm the AIDS test
I'm on my Bean Town sh**, cover his eyes to squeeze the pump on his tongue, like Dee Brown kicks
Let's cut the clown sh**
Carter, you'll do anything for big bills
Vince in his prime; he want a fast break to win mils
But I heard you down with Battle America, no promo
But for a belt and some kicks
He'll do what ever sin say, like a dojo. Boston!
[Round 2: JC]
I hate all your f**ing schemes
Let me slow it down… I hate all your f**ing schemes
You do exactly what I think you gon' do
Y'all just took another hit
Feel how y'all want to about Chilla
I just think y'all booked another b**h
‘Cause when they want a n***a to k**
I'm the crook they come and get, ‘cause like that hoe on Don't Be A Menace I be cooking up some sh**
Now, y'all don't even know who y'all stepping to
You realize I can do anything y'all come up with? Better, too
He wifed a b**h off Facebook, now I bet you gon' regret it too
‘Cause she just tryin' to get poked
So she'll net work 'til we all get effin' blue
Now, look, y'all get that
‘Cause the F icon is in a blue box, right? That's how I'll do it
We all know his type, this f*ggot will keep going
Like, "I hit her on Twitter
Got at his BM through a DM and that bird blew
Now, regardless of how black plan it, we mob, n***a
Violate my space and he gon' always have to
Watch his back, like Tom picture
See, that's Chilla
The Boston battle scene is the worst thing poppin'
You play for the worst team and you the third string option
You getting your a** whooped
And everybody on the first team watchin'
b**h, we clap hammers here
Batman premiere; that clip release got at least 13 droppin'
Now, I watch URL often, so I know your quotes
And you told Cash d**h will come in threes
So that's exactly what I hope you wrote
See, these n***as let anybody approach 'em
We approach with toast, send him home to coach
'Til the dock off the rivers, hope them hoes can float
There won't be sh** left to disclose your ghost
Hit plenty more, them acting b**h
Gon' need Demi Moore to disclose your ghost
Look, d**h come in threes, now, Demi Moore got two movies
Disclosure and Ghost, get it, disclose your ghost?
Moral of the story is, get this close you're ghost
It's an honor for you to meet me, I'm the next problem
Run in your crib, pop your mom; I'm your step father
Drop Jones in this ring, remind him of when he met Tarver
I'm a new n***a, fresh lines
But not one n***a ahead cut like me; I got the best barber
You tryin' to graduate, but I make that test harder
Going bar for bar for respect, I k** n***as
That lead pop, Red Foxx; I'm putting arms to his chest
Now, the fans can make it a cla**ic
But the rest of you and your mans debatin'
‘Cause you see-through, I seen you; sacrificial laminated
I said, you see-through
I seen you as a sacrificial lamb and ate it
[Round 2: Chilla Jones]
You can do what I can do, that's your idea of clowning Chilla?
Well, I can do what you can do
But I don't have room in my rounds for filler
You co*ky, but let's admit it, your brain is really gone, cuz
You thinking you can stop me, bro? He must be on d**
Think about it, he hoping his career gonna blow with Smack
The first battle we seen from him, he was smoking crack
Eventually he had Raw and he was dope with that
But coke is back, these lines got 'em
Tryin' to keep they nose intact
You just sour ‘cause Factor got a lot more respect for me
Well, since you feeling yourself, I gotta k** you for X to see
I clap shots, so when you reach Heaven
You can rep your team in the skies, like a mascot
Cats thought I'd give this coward a chance, I tell my guys pull
Close range, tower in France; you'll get an eye full
But speaking of France, your ex is from Paris
They should've told you 'bout your last wife
We used to record her, sh**, we made a flick last night
She keep a tube of K, why? She the take-it-in-the-a** type
She's a French who*e and, trust me, whoever bag pipes
Off the base you be mad hype, they like, "Be calm, bro!"
But you didn't, so they banned yo' a**
From going where the bong goes
Steal a P and O or dub sacks and watch that war begin
If we don't get our loot then we shootin' up that Accord he in
I snuck that 40 in, we drum sets, firin'
I'll punch through son chest, hit his organs and get violent
'Til there's bruises on this square and he loses all type of air
Then when they pronounce him dead it'll be music to my ears
But if he survive, I grab the knife
And poke some holes in his top
While he in that hospital bed, then his pulse gonna stop
They saying "Breathe! Breathe!", but he froze in a shock
Like a Celtics player, now you getting coached by the doc
Stop! See this? This the try-me face, get your life erased
Pencil style, like a stencil how your body trace
If I peek inside that Jeep you drive and I see papes
I'ma follow you with that chopper, like a high speed chase
I need space for JC, right? Mr. Ain't Lose A Round?
Against Mr. Jump To Top Tier From The Proving Grounds?
You understandin'? What I fire I call Mariah
What I carry gon' get you broke up if I dump the cannon
[Round 3: JC]
In my first two rounds I showed y'all it was easy to do what they do, that's how the game go
But what type of n***a would I be
If I ain't give you the n***a you paid for?
I been too nice, hopefully your supporters
Can keep you clothed and fed
It's my turn to spit, that permanent casket close his bed
What, y'all thought there was more to this?
Honestly? This boring b…
Boy, we bout to send this b**h back packin' on some Dora sh**
What, you gon' flip and spazz out? b**h, don't try us
There's four n***as in each car with about six more riders
We heavy armed, like Precious, extend more fire
The wrong turn, then Yak all in your backseat
I'm Pinky limo driver
Glocks out, car jack, hop out, take me to this b**h set
I'm tryin' to get his whole strip wet
He was cruising 'til his ship wrecked
Hit me, you gon' get hit next
Stomp him but leave him choices
Timberland or Nike? Face the tree or get chin checked?
And won't no n***a miss him
‘Cause he not sick, ignore all this n***a's symptoms
I catch Chilla chillin', that fifth clap
Boy, that b**h kick back, like it's chillin' with him
I hope you and your b**h get a sweet start
I'ma off your main b**h, I got street smarts
‘Cause I'm a street star, like the Walk of Fame
Hawk the brain, you'll catch a shell for nothin'
You can tell he frontin', that long nose
Could probably shoot Homer head out the barrel of it
All this real sh**, that ain't you, you ain't make money
It made you, and you let it change you
‘Cause to get ahead you flip and tell; that's what change do
I will get this boy chalked, snatch him and his boy heart
When that TEC scream, leave a wet scene
‘Cause like Seth Green I make toys talk
Ma**achusetts, that's my destination, his Boston home
Took him out on that same pillow he was talkin' on
But it was witnesses outside, we had to plug a few screams
It's nothing new, it's actually become a comfortable thing
See, it's n***as with switchblades, you get cut if you seen
I edit the whole block
Extend a few clips just to cut a few scenes
You a b**h, that's why we laugh, cousin
Every n***a out my cla** stuntin', that's somethin'
This n***a front, like Rosa Park we send him back bustin'
You thought you was winning? Never, I'm a sore loser
I lose, you leave sore, these n***as with whatever
I'm Tim T with that shotgun, but my precision better
Or I call my n***a Beasy
And that twelve will let loose one pump, like Cinderella
Now, let me let y'all know how this tragedy ends
I wanna go get drunk, and I asked Norbes if we could do this battle, we not on PG, so don't ask me again
And I never feel like I lost
But unless it's a clear 3-0 body bag no one actually wins
Now, as far as this n***a, I'm deleting his number
You Tom Myspace swag having a** n***a
This does not mean we automatically friends
[Round 3: Chilla Jones]
The total be two K's, we handle MAC's well and clap heat
So when C air a round, what I'm aiming
Will leave your baby face on that black street
But you like battle rap silk ‘cause them bars you be spittin' soft
Soon as I sat in the chair to write, this n***a lost
They persuade you to get caught in this trap, no gettin' off
I will dent him for nothing, I'm cut from a different cloth
See, this a loss you should've planned for
But we all know you're good with defeat
We all seen you on the dance floor
But before I say "f** JC!" and everything he stand for
Let's talk about what else them letters JC could stand for
Jones chillin', Jordans clean, taking shots of Jose Cuervo
He's a joke, ‘cause he be just crumping
Like a motherf**in' weirdo
If he jump crump, try to shoot me with heaters
He getting jigged, chopped, jugular cut
With a blade in his back, now he Julius Caesar
But let's be precise, you ain't like Caesar to be the type
The fans think you walk on water, I guess you Jesus Christ
That's what you selling? Well, we don't buy bull
We're just to real to pay, you dating Jaz
Well, even if you and that virgin marry, I still feel you gay
Your heater outside, my scouts ride
Before that fire arm'll get in, I'll impale you, J
So cross me with that hammer
I'll spin Julian in reverse and nail you, J
That's crucifixion; if you knew religion you'd get the lesson
But since I got you here, my n***a, I got a big confession
I'm the one your chick is pressin', she be out here dick hopping
Every Sunday, she hit me and we get sh** popping
I scream when she go nuts on my jimmy
Without her lips stopping
She a dairy queen, that's why I got her in my whip topping
That clip popping, one word and watch them goons be getting the shoot and rob Julian for every f**ing j**el he in
I hate calling you Julian, it doesn't fit you truly
So I ain't calling you Julian, I'ma call you Julie
Now, as far as battle rap, in the Bean I'm the king
If you took my crown, Julie, you'd be queen of the ring
But them dwellers and misfits ain't with all that Jazz, Julie
With that 40 I'm precise with better aim than a QB
Bullets ring, if they miss murk up the hall
Better hustle or they abusing you, see, you're a star with the heart to flow, but I know you fear a funeral
Remorse is rare and unusual, against hood policies
I came to turn your sorry a** gang into a pile of G's
So where you from? Wait, J. Dilla and Proof state?
Well, I'ma son you here
Let me reverse that and run through clear
I hear you, son, but state proof that you a dealer, J
They get weight from you, where?
I had it backwards and ran them words back f**ing bezerk
So tell M. Ciddy that's how you punch in reverse