Charlie Clips - Conceited vs Charlie Clips lyrics

[Round 1: Conceited] Ever since you been battling you put on all kind of weight This n***a's so fat he'll try to put food on a license plate I mean this is some real sh** Name one crime you had to deal with You ain't got a misdemeanor You're record's cleaner than one of Will Smith's You gonna get the steel fifth and let it peel quick? With the blade out I'll cut Clips like a editor You ain't a projector so how you real, Clips? As soon as my dog catch ya, he got a pound full of strays I'll bet your fat a** wished this pound was some cake I will grab the nina, let that b**h take him out like a date All that sh** that you make up will only cause medics to come when the MAC go pow to your face n***a, you ain't down to play and light the steam Even if he is co*kin' the 5 This cat pops in the sky like the Lion King Every gun you see's sick I won't wait for war to wave to show you what drama mean I'll pull out that iron thing, it's like a circus act, ‘cause the cannon shoots clowns when the fire rings Honestly I'll go all in his house The flame turn his brains into change; it'll be all in the couch Any survivors left and that Larkin will sprout You guys wanna take shots? Then Captain Morgan's come out Slow it down! I just dissed you! You guys wanna take shots? Get capped and more guns come out Slow it down once more! You wanna take shots? Get capped, them organs come out You see? I know the sh** that get Clips really mad Everybody in Harlem still think he trash. You know it's f**ed up when not even Dot Mobb is feeling his a** And then you take a L to B Magic You see, that's the sh** that get him pissed off But he be like, "It was an even draw, I wasn't on my sh**, Con" This n***a try to tell me it was a cheap tie That's the type of sh** that Clips on n***a, I got hollows in them pistols Like a referee I'll give a tip off; and listen, and after an air it's like London, because you won't see no prints, Charles. Ah?! [Round 1: Charlie Clips] I said I ain't one of these new jacks I've been on every block with a few packs How ironic: I got fiends at King of the Dot That can't wait for that new Smack Told my grandmoms I'm battling Con She said, "Baby, who's that?" I said, "A midget that left battle rap to join Wild N' Out for two racks." She said, "Ooh. Just two racks? He must be broke, baby." I said, "Yeah, Grandma, that's a true fact." He moved out his mom's crib. Nick Cannon ain't sent no money, now he forced to move back Ain't Luciano Crakk a part of your squad? Well, tell him chill 'fore this tool clap. It'll split him in half, turn you to a petty hustler, ‘cause you working with two Crakks What it do, Con? Tss. I'm witty with these bars I don't punchline like you, Con If he in denial he getting ran over with a truck Till his body in the shape of a Yukon Go ahead and call me "Husky" Like I'm Khalid El-Amin, we all know that's true, Con Well, like El-Amin I let it point. Guard! I'm shootin' for you, Con You know Khalid El-Amin, right? That was a point guard, he was shootin' for UConn For calling me Husky, y'all see how many shots his mask got? I counted about two, Con. Mascot? Counted about two, Con? I said, look, with the way I chef up these bars I should be down with the Wu, Con If we fight, inspect a deck, then I'ma send him to you, God You battled Hitman and your a** got booed by everyone Now you got no money on your debit card And your battle rap credit done I got a shooter, he a artist; that n***a'll draw on everyone For a light bill, I'll send him to Con and make him edit son I know you like my swag, n***a, you can tell I found a new religion. The shirt made by Leo, but the cargos is True Religion Got an old gun on my dresser I'll change it and put the newest clip in Five sang and one crackhead; that's New Edition Why would they put Scotty Slippin' to rap with Jordan? Everybody in here know that my rap's important But you wanna slow it down three times like smack importin' I'll smack your gun then step on the barrel Like I'm Captain Morgan I wanna go three minutes, but I'm forced to finish him early I freestyle ‘cause your a** cheated We only supposed to go a minute and 30. f**in' cheater! [Round 2: Conceited] So y'all really put this pretty boy against this heavy man? Since you think your life's a movie, Clips I'll turn this to a concession stand Let you be the one that I see If it's not yours, I still take your chips I pop corns and buck it, you'd better get a lifesaver, Clips ‘Cause it takes nothing but a finger And these nerds know, caps air heads when I'm raisin' it I heard in Toronto they say, "The West End's the best end" So I'll pull up on your b**h with a best friend As soon as I say "Hi!" it's sweet, once I holla, they in And your ho tell everybody in the Westend If you get ends, then I'm takin', n***a If you flossin' any kind of paper, n***a In Toronto you can be robbed for it, like the mayor, n***a I'll get the pump and the fuel will fill you up; no petro I done get the stock then the cal lif' on you like the West Coast Matter of fact, I don't give a f** Anybody can die when that TEC blow I'll turn it into a bar and lounge ‘Cause I don't care who could get smoked Bullets going through the halls like they got strep throat I ain't gotta guess what room you in They coming through the walls like asbestos Brand new bullets right where his chest go So when I said I brought fresh rounds To take his breath away I meant those I'll catch you while you're giving your wife X.O.'s Put you and that little b**h both under covers Like Mr & Mrs Smith n***a, don't get it twisted like licorice I'm for real, I'm with the clips I point caps with the sweeper; that's a wicked witch I bring the toys and the stock in And fire places like Christmas gifts Listen, Clips. I'll do you like a landlord see the tenant He ain't kick him out. Nah, he evict him Slow it down! I just dissed you! I said, see the 10, it start kickin' out, now he's a victim So all that talk you try to be talking, you better stop it, Clips I'll pop the fifth, squeeze Glocks Then put him in a deep plot for the drama, Clips. Rrh! [Round 2: Charlie Clips] What's up with all this celebrity nut huggin' you be doing? Here's a few things somebody told your boy: You used to be on Twitter everyday trying to get a DM from Souljaboy Then you took a picture with Drake All of a sudden he's your favorite Ain't that ironic: Souljaboy and Drake You just did a freestyle to the song "My n***a We Made It" Stop following after celebrities, Con I really hope it's worth the cheddar You got mad and dissed Joe Budden and Kevin Durant ‘Cause they both thought Surf was better Damn! You really my man, so it hurts when I start blastin' him But if you try to get with one more male celebrity Your new name gon' be 'Kim Condashian' You see how I cause disasters, people, when he talking that drama? No, I said I'm Dizaster's people, I walk with a llama Let his b**h look like Michelle, let her talk to Obama This dick the bomb, she Spanish I bend Latins over; let her talk to Osama Shout outs to my n***a Swave We both from Harlem. Is this a homi? Yes If I don't get my money, I'm in your crib I be all up in your mommy neck For that green I got every gun, from a shotgun to an army TEC For that money, you'll get stretched for the green Like Bonnie's dress I'm freestylin' off the top again, but, n***a, they know I could let off 100 bullets, but the cops won't know ‘Cause I get rid of 100 bullets like J-Pro Tell your b**h to lay low, how her neck go? She know how the cum feel, but I had to stop ‘Cause she kept throwing up, like Fresco against Yung Ill I do this sh** from the heart no matter the cheddar It was snowing and I still flew out here I love y'all no matter the weather These bars gon' make this n***a die, he gon' panic forever You know you that n***a When your bars can bring Smack and Organik together [Round 3: Conceited] Yo, Clips! Your wife is a who*e That's why she dig how I'm dressin' I mean she's feeling the fit And feeling the kid kicks, like she's pregnant n***a, you can get it anywhere; that's Craiglist As soon as I see him, I make the TEC spit And I'll let it off on Clips on sight, like Netflix Get this, you see, I could be like Gepetto And get this fake boy the long nose But I could also be a carsalesman and give him that 4 though But instead, since you acting, Clips You getting this semi like an award show Lord knows I light off steel, period. Tell your men, "Stroll!" If something hot flashes we might all peel n***a, I had your wife for real I'm the reason why your broad missin' When I f**, I make all of her twist That's why she won't let Charles' dick in n***a, your squad trippin', then I pop chrome You will go straight in a nap like a hot comb n***a, you know damn well you ain't got the Glock on So what you gonna do then, mark? You won't cap at all, you sweet and you left the stock home In battle rap I'm on the top though n***a, this is not an even score Your punchline rank is five, mine is one Is that why you think we equal for? n***a, you have never looked clean before You could tell it's some notes that I spent As far as money, this male good, I could loan you some cents I said, I cologne you some scents n***a, I'll go where he rest Everybody in that place get stretched If they ain't at the house chillin' I'm wherever they at aiming TEC's With these three K's he'll be crossfired Wherever they hangin' next n***a, I spray the TEC. It's not a flag When I raise up that pole with the red dot like Japan n***a, you will get more than nicked When these toys start talking like, "Kablam!" Since you the one I should k** These'll go into Clips like Kazaam He be the man I click on without havin' to call The shotgun give him a bullet without catchin' a ball Your whole squad could get hit when I'm clappin' it off I'll do it like the store Lids ‘cause I'ma give caps at a mall I said I'ma give caps at 'em all! Hanh?! [Round 3: Charlie Clips] What's poppin', Con? Oh let me guess, 'When you got a Glock in palm, I'ma get hot rounds for the cheese like Papa John' n***a, please! If your mother snitched I'm at her door, but not to pop her, Con I'ma electrocute that b**h; I'm tryin' to shock her, Con You got booed something crazy against Hitman The fans was tryin' to dismiss you. And you said "The next n***a that boo me, I'ma slow it down and diss you!" I love battle rap, but this sh**'s depressin' Half of us ain't grippin' Wesson's, but you know it's bad when we start thinking our slogans is a weapon I could see Fox calling your phone like "n***a, Heartless swung on me in the jungle Where you at? I need to hold the pound What kinda gun you got for me?" And you like, "n***a, I got the slow-it-down!" Is it a MAC? Is it a pump? Is it a Uzi? Is it a pistol? Do n***as die when you slow it down? Like does it hurt when they actually diss you? I'm just asking you, Con ‘Cause you gotta grow up, I'm not playing you, Con You bust your hammer? "You ain't got the answers!" Pardon me for per-swaying you, Con Nick Cannon treating you like an outcast How much he payin' you, Con? You not a Big Boi, you got 3,000 for the season I see the André in you, Con But let's get back to the bars though. I had to school him I just wanted to make sure this n***a learnin' See, this my motherf**ing man But when you step in this ring, I become a different person Word to the homie Tyshane I grab the knife, poke 'em, twist and turnin' Y'all ain't seen hawks wildin' like this since Richard Sherman Listen, this is my ring. Don't step in here Listen, this is my ring… aww f**… Sike! I lied, n***a! "Slow it down!" Sike! I… Con, that's the worst slogan that I ever heard Worst thing I did was when you first made that battle And I memorized every word But this what I'ma do, right? ‘Cause this my ring This is how you getting it, Con I said, you wanna fight then get invited The knife going into this con No, I said, I kick his door down, I enter calm Soon as them shots enter Con, that's the end of Con Talk, I listen, then buzz his top like an intercom Whoever talked threw me off You know that was some bullsh**, but I'ma finish, Con You a cheating a** n***a Every round was supposed to be a minute, Con Go ahead and finish, Con!