[Round 1: B Magic] You finally stopped ducking, well, let's get straight to work I grab the tools, 'bout to act a fool, like it's April 1st Fifth'll blow, lift your soul, this is no day in church Sex on the beach; this b**h gon' get laid in dirt Listen up, Reggie, I hop up out the Cavalier, them shots flame Bandana on me with the 30-30; I'm John Wayne Conceited gon' catch every shell it contain Then I'm running back to the Cavalier; LeBron James He thinking he sick; now that's a hypochondriac Thinking he sick? Don't give a f** how hyper Con react I say I buck the machine, I bet he changed; that's a laundromat Steel peel, something ill will hit his Pontiac Am I the meanest? Sho nough, well, let's convers I heard a Rone dissin' Con verse, he kiss a Converse He'll be puffy trying to dance with me; Fonzworth 9 burst, P.O. n***a; I'm making Con work I'm never scared, it's B Magic with this bone crusher f** the ambulance You might as well call a ghostbuster when this 4 touch ya I'm telling you good You'll see a crazy K if you don't get your tail from the hood It's B Magic, the 4 holder, I'm more doper Don't make me call up the war soldiers, the war's over Ain't nothing good about me reaching in that Toyota See, Con dough will get tooken; that's a foreclosure Your whole name say I want to be defeated What kind of straight n***a say, "I wanna be Conceited"? I'm heated, and strapped, slid in with the crew I done broke more n***as down than Hidden Colors 2 How you want it? Say it, and I'll k** that n***a I'll slap the sh** out of this Kevin Hart-built a** n***a See, I don't feel that n***a This K shine, you can zip him up Don't smoke Reggie, but something blunt will spill his guts Turn up, from where they movin', lootin', and shootin' that boy St. Louis truest, you seen the news and we shootin' them toys Give me room and I'm movin' on you and your unit of yours To keep the beef fresh, I brought something aluminum for you My flow's sicker, you talking like you dumpin', shoot somethin' Walberg and Denzel, n***a; I brought two guns So do somethin', don't say I ain't tell him I'll stick him up with the Dillinger like Baby Face Nelson I am here, B Magic versus Tevin Campbell – can we talk? Catch bullets, that's what the 80 for; Randy Moss Back in my arms again, I am the boss I will survive till we meet again like Diana Ross Google that, your snitch a**, that sh** made up Kevin Gates; your b**h a**'ll get ate up For nonbelievers who thinking I won't get you k**ed Just take it from me, you'll get the steel I walk up on him like, make the right move Thirty thou in thirty minutes or I'ma take your life, fool He said, "Haaah?", I buck the 40 on him, he like, alright, cool Now that's progressive, after I pull the Name Your Price tool B motherf**ing Magic, round one, n***a [Round 1: Conceited] Yo, it's what y'all been waiting for Conceited vers' B Magic, this is a homi' I'm the one that taught this kid how to drop his sh** Made him get on the potty Y'all done finally put the Karate Kid against Mr. Miyagi But since y'all think Magic's worth it I'ma be a plastic surgeon, ‘cause I'm fixing a body n***a, you only rep the blue Till the d**h of you when it's beneficial This n***a want to be very Crip till I leave him very crippled Them real locs run up on him You see a flag get dropped without a ref and whistle So don't say that color's in your veins And your Crippin' is dead official ‘Cause we all say you like Beyoncé We don't believe that blue was ever in you n***a, you don't get the pistol Or be dumping out the strap, you just running out your trap How is your name Magic And you still ain't pulling nothing out the cap? n***a, I'm coming with the gat at the spur of the moment That nose is longer, I'll put that Ginobili on ya I took the heat out, like Tony Parker And a hollow k**ed your a** like Total Slaughter It ain't no secret, f*ggot, you know I'm harder My style's way better Your style's too plain in the building like the Trade Center Everybody can get these TECs; it's like a chain letter You gon' see one arm pop; Swave Sevah For the smallest problems, let hollows from the K stretch ya You can get hit by a tip over something tiny like Mayweather Y'all know this n***a's B Magic Black Magic, June, that's real rap But this n***a's real name is Jerry Douglas That's not a punchline, that's real facts Oh, what, you thought that I didn't know? Infrareds on top of hammers, beams with the scope You gonna see a bunch of ratchets and rednecks on Jerry Like the Springer Show Twin guns, I fill drums, and you lift them both; I'm the type to raise up two black 4s to n***as, like Different Strokes n***a, I will hit your folks when I'm sprayin' Your whole family gettin' the clip like the Wayans I'll even go to black church, with a pastor, ratchet The deacon be singing, "Let Us Pray" Bow your heads, and we Amen Slow it down! I just dissed you! I said, pa** the ratchet, the D can be singing Let us spray, we'll bow your heads when we aimin' What?! What?! n***a, I ain't playin' What you gonna do when that gat bursts slugs? Until you see that ratchet show like Bad Girls Club n***a, you gonna run to the crib, you ain't even sort of hard Talking that jazz I'll bring the shell to where you live like 40 Barrs The reason you only making racket Over the net like a tennis ball Is because my style is something that Black jack Without a deck of cards I mean, n***a, you stole my setups Down to the way I say every bar That's why nobody will ever know who the hell you are How does it feel to steal everything like Aladdin And it still didn't get you far? So learn how to be your own f**ing man, and man up, n***a I bet you won't swear to it and put your right hand up, n***a That's how we know watching Seinfeld The only time we'll see Jerry be a stand-up n***a f*ggot, I showed you how to do a battle With straight punches through Pay attention, I'm just teachin' June; that's summer school But he gon' act like he been rapping like that And nothing was the same Little shorty, stop, you like 40 Glocc You ain't bring no punches to the game, n***a. Hah?! [Round 2: B Magic] You about to witness bars More than Nine-Lifers and nine cyphers You couldn't hang with that Surf, ninja; Rob Schneider You wouldn't be f**ing with the kid; that's the Pied Piper See, this Mitch'll get smoked like Mekhi Phifer My n***a, I do the do; I'm a LiveWire You'll get confronted with the hawk; I'm Rod Piper He'll lift in this b**h; that's not stilettos A big shell stick to his back; Donatello I'm beast mode, the heat holder, I C4 ya The street poet, I speak sonnet, decode it R.I.P. Conceited gon' be leaking with the deceased odor Have a n***a from New York under cover; Malik Yoba Call a crime lab, I'm k**in' me a motherf**er Take the strap from this n***a like, "This 9 mine" Then k** him with his own sh**; I'm John John You'll see Magic ring on him like Don Juan Strap under my Sean John, you gon' get it bad ‘Cause if he by these new pumps, he'll be in the bag My advice, buck a pistol and shoot ‘Cause we can fight steel with steel like Bishop in Juice b**h, tuck your tail, better split like the percolator move Or your lights'll get knocked out like the circuit breaker loose If you buggin', you'll get sprayed; I exterminated groups Metal talking, Con'll run, like Terminator 2 My bars vicious, is y'all with it? ‘Cause the TEC'll blam I'm from a place where they k**ed Mike, you should never land I'm hot, dog, if y'all grilling, you better scram I pop corns if anybody in Con's session stand Get your bars up, Mick Foley with this damn 9 Why show a dude love if he ain't half of the man, Con? A step away from blowing up, ‘cause if I land mine I'm trying to murk n***as, you the first dippin', like Cam'ron Tell 'em I'm the truth, put steel into his roof Indiana game, if they saying Reggie, mill'll shoot Don't get it twisted, you'll get boxed; Duncan Pinderhughes Listen, go to the whip after making the car crash Screaming, "f** Con!", pulling Reggie out the car dash Getting y'all thrashed, whip y'all a**, I'll bust a slug A chrome Desi'll roast Reggie like Buddy Love R.I.P. – I'm k**ing this sh** Testifying is the only time he liftin' the fifth This young gun rock a fella, you ain't gettin' the drift? That mean you hear a MAC, b**h, a milli'll spit Who f**ing with me? n***a, not you, for damn sure What, you gonna go and get the blicky? Clap and pop it? Or maybe I should split like a banana, is that an option? n***a, you punching without landing; you shadowboxin' I give Reggie the 7; that's a convict Then give him the 4 plus the nickel for that nonsense This 47 get to safety when I palm this My patriot's buckin' near your bronco; I'm John Lynch I'm from where the Lou is, ain't nothing fairer, Con You don't want to box for real, look in the mirror, Con Bird n***a, if the Eagle acting foul, Con. Coming masked up with the hammer, you'll think I'm Shao Kahn [Round 2: Conceited] Y'all know how this sh** go: I told him once This mothaf**er scared, I'm from the mothaf**in' Lou That's how this mothaf**er play it You beat up Fox? You heard what this mothaf**er said? You got scooped up and slammed on your mothaf**in' head! I thought I was going to see, "It's B motherf**ing Magic The n***a that be dumping 'em" Instead, you was holding onto Fox lookin' like you hugging him n***a, you didn't throw one swing When you did, you started tumblin' You do all these punches in your battles Why you ain't throw no punches then? I couldn't believe you got your a** whooped like that With a bunch of guys around you You was swinging like this Like it was a bunch of flies around you Then this n***a was begging for help, but Suge's a** wouldn't Fox had you choked out, you was like… You know how like when you get that good-a** whoopin'? Then you choked against Rum Nitty, choked against Big T I thought, "When is this gonna stop and end?" In his battles, he be choking so much I thought he was fighting Fox again I'm dropping him, he'll be scared Of seeing that 45 like he middle age Bring n***as to his crib like I'm in real estate Then run in airin', like a had a busy day I already told you, like Triple Eight I'll take the three out; that's a triple play It's in my pedigree to put two caps by his head like Triple H Isn't it ironic it's gonna be mourning when he get a wake? I'll show up and put a cap on that box like Minute Maid I'll get the MAC's out like I'm liftin' weights You couldn't be next to Con if you were a prison mate Only thing you ever put the mill on was a dinner plate And I'm just keeping it on the real, like fishing bait But since you're acting the way your b**h do I'll weave with extensions, bangs are getting sprayed I'll get the TEC's to rise here To make Jerry curl when the finger wave This n***a stay living off me, he a parasite How y'all comparing us when he ain't as half as nice? ‘Cause in his battles, most of his punches don't land It's like the Dizaster fight That's ‘cause you throw a zillion wack-a** punchlines You don't care if they dumb or not So how y'all say he's so cold when his name is June So we know only some are hot? n***a, I'll up your guap I'ma take dirty money no matter where your faith at Did he know I got one twelve and a MAC? Thinking you a bad boy It should be no biggie for you to take that Your whole team can get a cap, like a Brave's hat After I put the mill on him like a placemat n***a, I'll dump and pile the cans, like Ajax This little toy that's hot will be on him; that's a race track ‘Cause I'm the type to make the steel ring, like a cage match For all that rappin' them candy bars, I'm loading up every shell It'll take nothing but a finger To put it all in this n***a; that's caramel Your ride can keep getting a round; that's a carousel For anything that Black said Take out Black head, that's clear as hell And I bet you that'll make B leave, like a fairy tale Mr. Black Magic, I'll send him straight to hell if I co*k the thing I pack 12 and keep a big 10 like college teams After a round, you going to the corner; that's a boxing ring You got destroyed by Charron and Real Deal This is not a dream Them white boys beat you with bars on cam n***a, you Rodney King Honestly, when them hammers are spittin' You better run, kid, when that can get to grippin' Because that b**h dump and bow like Angela Simmons. Hah?! [Round 3: B Magic] Line his circle up, I put this 4 up to Con neck All his family reunion like, "Where Con at?" Clear the building after I make a call; that's a bomb threat Con, check, I shoot every tattoo off of Con chest "Conceited"? You look more like a snitch What about "Con-fess"? You a b**h n***a that hang with b**h n***as without a doubt My Brooklyn n***as said The first time they seen you was on Wild 'N Out Who wildin' out? Magic palmin' the biscuit Every motherf**er rolling behind Con is gon' feel it Got a pine box in the cemetery, Con should go visit This b**h is f**ed behind these bars; conjugal visit Yo, step it up, St. Louis, a.k.a. the new Afghan Keep the ratchet on me in the club, like a lap dance You don't want to see me, you a coward It's gon' be a long ride, so hold on, like Mimi in the shower False b**h, think I won't smack you, I'll hem him up Ike Turner; St. Louis n***as been slappin' b**hes up f** the guns, we can box and all that And I k** Con, feeling like Spock from Star Trek Give me space, is it my lyrics is just better, Con? Got a question, what's with the spiky shoes And the leather, Con? You wear leather pants with zippers on... never mind This TEC a 9 and buckle your cap, like a leprechaun Ain't no love in hip hop, and that's a fact; Joseline I'm swinging where a flock of b**hes at, want a meal? You will eat a shell, sh**'ll crack For the bread, I'll bury those n***as, it's a wrap Can you dig it? sh**, I might as well let a Glock touch ya Got all types of clips in store just to block busters A west-sider with this green on me All on the east side high with this lean on me I say, "f** you!", yeah, I think Con rapping is borin' You'll get clapped for performin' What you know about the smack and the dormin? You rap, but what gat are you actually palmin'? I'm in the dump with the metal, like the statue of Jordan But you be dumpin'? n***a, your name light in the streets I got a wild style, and Con don't like to get beat You hypin' the beast, bullets coming out the can doin' him Just don't let it go to your head, like Brand Nubian Stake out at your car with the 40 on my waist He walk in the parking lot, leaving, the party finna shake Bad Boys 2, you know when Marcus daughter finna date? I meet Reggie at the door and put a 40 in his face But I'm supposed to believe you dumpin' that TEC Well, you was about to sit up on another man's neck That's gay, whoever thought of it a f*g, yes But who's gayer, the n***a who heard it and said yes Who is it? It's B Magic, motherf**er, the show arrived Turning y'all schemers into all of y'all dreamers Pull up with heaters, all in y'all thinkers Pa**ing them out on stage, like August Alsina I told him once, this mothaf**er scared I'm from the mothaf**in' Lou, this how a mothaf**er play it Beat me? Can you believe what this mothaf**er said? You must've slipped, fell and bumped your mothaf**in' head [Round 3: Conceited] Yo, when I show up at n***as' pad drawn, it's not Pictionary I got a gun that's so big, f** a magazine That sh** take dictionaries I got your b**h on my private, like we in the military And I'm dead going deep in that box, like I'm in the cemetery If you gettin' away, I be gettin' a gauge, like I'm gettin' married Dump and then skirt with the pump, like a secretary I will tell all of my n***as to lift the semi As soon as I scream, "Buck it!", bullets would've been in Jerry So why would I ever worry about his simple raps? No URL, but you can get this MAC That means I got the 10 for you like Reynolds Wrap So stop the chitty chat, n***a, you don't lift the strap And got guns slingin', you got none singin', like Sister Act So you like a bottle of patron, ‘cause you wouldn't lick a cap I figured that anybody who said he won or lost I'll call them awesome liars I mean, you thought you were gonna beat me In this battle and be brought up higher? n***a, you burn so much trees, it'll be Smokey the Bear He'll come out when there's a forest fire Slow it down! I just dissed you! I said, it'll be smokey, the barrel come out And point when the 4 is fired This n***a's always tryin', but he ain't even kind of scary You can get ate behind bars; that's commissary n***a, make your own style Stop looking for the shortcut, b**h; Halle Berry n***a, you damn right, I watch cartoons, so? I don't care what whoever think, Magic School Bus, Tom & Jerry Slow it down! I just dissed you! I said, whoever think Magic's cool, bust a Tom in Jerry This is something that's very crazy It's something I got to mention I don't know if y'all know his fata** girlfriend Latasha Simpson Don't try to tell me, "She ain't fat, she got a fat a**," n***a No, she is a fata**, n***a, and she looks like a fata** n***a The worst part is this n***a's married her She got two twins that's not even his Don't you get it, little n***a? That means some other cat did more sh** to that box than kitty litter You met them children when they turned four though You don't get the picture? It's not smart, guy, to raise up twins That are not yours like Sister, Sister Now, look, look… Daddy Daycare, Captain Save-a-Ho This n***a getting mad, he want to grip the blicker He want to co*k and peel n***a, you shooting it like you being a stepfather Even those kids know you don't pop for real But if you get close, I'm like a klepto, because I got the steel Paramedics gonna have to patch things up, like Dr. Phil Nickel-plated mag, penny-plated bullets You'll get shot and k**ed Like David Blaine, thinking you street, Magic I'll show you how that copper feel On the real, I've had enough of it I'ma pull Magic card no matter how hard you shuffle it Because it's nothing but lies in your delivery you feed us June know he on some other sh** Yo, every n***a you bring with you can get sniped off I got the stick under arm for any man sent, that's right, God Shout-out to you even making it on Summer Madness But compared to me, you got light bars This is Uno, why'd y'all think this would be a draw for When I'm the reason it's a wild card? Your whole team can hop in the bag; that's a sack race You gonna see a lot of big shots, like he's backstage n***a, you can't hold the Sig, like an ashtray I got two black 8's and these'll be on the Magic Like when Shaq played The only person you ever put in work with was a cla**mate When real Crips see you, they see food and take this crab cake So I don't want to hear nothing how your MAC spray It's like them old-a** plays, we can see them bodies you make up, n***a, just by looking at Black face. Hah?!