Illmaculate - Illmaculate vs Conceited lyrics

[Round 1: Illmaculate] This tall motherf**er! He tries to pull hoes and can't Cause he's a hoe with Cam's delivery So when he talks about popping off, you know it's rap He will never load the blam literally I'll crush him like a soda can and choke the man viciously He ain't ever sold a gram, I know the mans history He be holding hands trying to go and dance with his team Rock N' Roller swag with them holy a** skinny jeans What? You thought Lenny Kravitz would let me have it? No, not today It must be a spendy habit sniffing coke off a tray But if this sissy a** ain't a trendy f*ggot well sh** he's just a frohawk away Look so just know, Ill's a savage I wanted to battle fora G in Portland, he said "no," little f*ggot All that sh** talk with no sk** and no skrill to back it When I serve you now you can't blame it on home field advantage I got em shook in my presence; let's take a look at the evidence Even QP said "Con's my man, but I don't think he should've accepted it" I said "You think I challenged him? He'll get what he deserves, that p**y requested it" I swear to God, look at this motherf**er, this is my competition? The truth is he'll say some funny sh** and have some laughable metaphors But real talk he's ducked the f** out Of his last 3 battles he was scheduled for He even b**hed out in Portland, like a lil' f**ing jerk Said he couldn't afford a plane ticket, I thought you hustled work? You only talk about it, I actually put my hustle first Looked up the ticket and purchased it just to murk this b**h And I'ma f**ing get my money's worth This is real talk, all this sh** happened really yo We were supposed to battle in Portland, but this f*ggot really won't The truth is I said I'll come to your hometown and snatch your skrilla bro Then he started acting like a little hoe Back peddling like "Yeah, but that's a little different though." And that's a direct f**ing quote You know what, you're right, cause if you lose no one's shocked See this is Pa** and Daylyt, Math and Dose, make a move and the fun stops This is Solomon, Mic Assa**in, you're losing and I'm not This is Arsonal and Hollow, this is Mook and Yung Hot This is body bag, so acting hard isn't suitable behavior Even having your name on the same flyer as me Makes it look like your foolish moves are major I just made your career, get on YouTube and view it later You'll see the truth is, even letting you lose to me is doing you a favor But look do me a favor Don't give him bigger battles or start interviewing this b**h You're pitiful, simplistic You got me feeling stupid for even giving you this privilege See I never been beat, you'll never be me You wish you kept the receipt, but you can't take it back I'm a legend and you ain't even the best in your league He don't clap lead, he's just a b**h that's been giving a fair chance Duke holla, I'll brawl with you and everything See he a crackhead cleaning up sh** with his bare hands For 2 dollars and a malt liquor energy drink Dog I'll leave you resting in peace and quest this my peeps But he's more like Apollo, except he's even less of a G He wouldn't even walk down Sesame Street unless he was 70 deep Don't show me your mean face you little clean shaped swamp rat I don't gotta put money on your head, I got a prepaid contract I'll whoop that a** and my dudes got 3k on that You whoop my a**? You boys wouldn't put a key chain on that You could talk about sh** you ain't got we'll give you some leeway on that But lay a finger on me and that a** won't make it to the freeway on ramp Queer looking motherf**er man... [Round 1: Conceited] Listen f*ggot! You calling me a rat is a irrelevant I'm a rat but you still scared of me, that makes you an elephant See you wanna say I skip chow but f*ggot I wasn't even in town So when Illmaculate rapping, don't think yo Mac is a savage I saw your last two battles and that Dizaster was Madness People didn't give you the win cause you was spitting it clever You appeared to be ill, maculate They felt sorry for you cause you look sicker than ever But I know where this drug addict went damn wrong He left chubby, started f**ing with the rock And lost more weight than Cam'ron But he don't wanna leave it alone because he love it do d**h Change your name to Redman the way you keep f**ing with Meth And another thing that got me real pissed about you Your nicknames "Ill" but besides your health there's nothing sick about you That's why your whole gimmick is ironic, you should be shutting your mouth You got the words "ill" and "mac" in your name Two things you'll never know nothing about I dump and I sprout once I aim the Ruger Ain't nothing funny about this clip Mac, it ain't a blooper Really this thang will shoot ya, you never came for the drama Cause your crew's name is the Sand People We supposed to believe that y'all stay with them llamas? You been hiding real well for that year, who'd you stayed with? Osama? You spent all your WRC money, now he's asking for change like Obama So I know Illmac ain't seeing cash with them measly raps You got no Kraft, since this battle is for Cheese it's gonna be Easy Mac So you can take one look at him and see that Gregory broke That's why your last name says it all because Gregory's Poor/Po That Desert will blow or the .45 will go right in the bullseye How you gon' call yourself Big, Mac? When you just a small fry See like I can use short jokes on him literally Illmac you a little geek who's even too little for little league But see this not my style, I know how to make Grind Time get crazy Just say... "You look like Greg Brady and Ms. Daisy had a big baby with Slim Shady Who blew up like an M-80 f** that the sh** I grip spit crazy And I put Rockets to your T, Mac like McGrady This big 80 will co*k and shoot and I'll get rid of III like a doctor do I rock the booth and I got the coldest raps I've always had a PC, but now I can say that I've owned a Mac As far as your raps who the f** you gon' lie to? You named your album Police Brutality? Who the f** is gon' buy you? He thought because the title had something to do with pigs That ill would spread faster than the swine flu See you slide through and make tracks about being a burglar But that's something you not dumb dumb Cause battling Quest is the only time you robbed someone And I see you mocking someone You a sloppy disgrace He saw The Saurus style, called himself Mac so he can copy and paste So you let him help with this battle so you can maybe come harder Now I can say I sonned Greg and Peter, I'm the Brady Bunch father [Round 2: Illmaculate] He used my name against me, even broke down every syllable Like "Ill" and "Mac" that sh** is so predictable You would do that, cause that's something that a b**h would do Now you know time limit rules working against you Cause everybody sick of you See it doesn't matter if we're in Portland, I'm vicious I'll spit fortified sickness Con we could ignore the time limits But you'll spit 30 seconds of material over the course of 5 minutes I should curb stomp your, you on the outside looking in New York, Florida, Cali, you a turf hopper He gets ran out of every hood he's in Soon as your squad roll up, get your strong hold touch You better thank the stars You don't get John Doe'd and beat on like Bongo drums He got basic bars, he claim he hard, but everything he said's a gay remark I guess that's why you "paaaause" so much With your small a** hands, probably use em to palm goat nuts Someone tell me why this little lawn gnome f** is trying to act all grown up You taking knife hits, we inhale the greenest haze You s**ing guys dicks, in jail receiving AIDS Rhyming slow "liiiike this" even a snail is keeping pace I'll turn Conceited into a shy b**h with a tail between his legs We throwing dro in a jar to get my skrilla equal I'll hit you with so many arms I'll millipede you You so phony it's hard to still believe you And that voice k**ing me I guess that's why most of his bars are about k**ing people You looking sick and feeble, this b**h is see-through And since you 'grip the Eagle' the clips/Clipse will greet you Like "everyone say hello to Mr. Me Too" Me too, I'm 5'5" but I'm feeling diesel Walking through you to get to the stage, my bad lil homie, didn't see you And I say "Ill homie" cause it feel like you're "this" small to me I don't respect your battle record, persona or your discography f*ggot see, I don't play around but this kid should be at recess You just a b**h to me that seem stressed You kidding me? How he's dressed? You ain't an American Idol But you could probably hit the scene with Seacrest Sporting them skinny jeans and V-necks Get real you ain't pitching caine on the curb You'll get your kilo snatched and played for the herb And matter fact I know a chick here That'll beat yo a** if I gave her the word Man I give em a fair dose of some rare jokes But I hope this square chokes and dies Along with any rapper that uses "air" quotes f** a cheap shot right, that's when Dizaster occurs Speaking of which, I hope you choke and collapse in the third When you're rapping your verse Then quit like a b**h like that other f*ggot I served I don't give a f** if this cat's challenging the vets You don't have talent you a mess He from NY? I think this cat traveled to the west Just to see Illmac battle in the flesh He asked for bus fair to catch the ma** transit or the express I'll give em a buck 50 and tell me to panhandle for the rest [Round 2: Conceited] As far as pussies everybody knows I love to smash it I know you gay cause a Mac is made by Apple, which is a fruit, you f**ing f*ggot! You see this man's lethal, I'll squeeze that damn Eagle Fill em all with shells now y'all really can be Sand People I'm hotter than a heat wave You keep showing us the same sh** like a replay Illmac ain't got bars, your phone's prepaid I squeeze treys give the sand people Heat like D. Wade That'll wet up all the people in the sand like a beach wave See he's gay and the type that like his spine fractured You don't go for the cat, you go for the sack like a linebacker I'm a nine clapper, you from Portland but you never seen them Blazers come I can hit you with a knife or a gun (Oregon') like the state you from I hate this bum, I slay vets and I spit great Your rhymes full of gay s** in a big way And you got mad cause people literally took a rain check on your mixtape This dick face can get a slug from me Or the blade will give him a buck 50 like lunch money The 44 got a big nose like Doug Funny You'll be in the ground in a hole like Bugs Bunny Cause we all tuck and my dog buck like Bud Bundy Illmac ain't got real cash, this bum's bummy You do all the work but Peter get the fame, you The Saurus' stunt dummy So listen I'ma do it like this, I don't wanna hear none of that chitty chat Cause listen you'll get wet like Aquaman, I go to Portland Lasers go on top of the burners like pots and pans So you ain't living none of that Only reason you got love for New York is cause you're a Midget, Mac So I don't even know why III's spitting When The Saurus gave you life, you Peter's son, you like Chris Griffin When them clips lifting the heat will shoot, it's mad noise When the scope is on it's like Pokemon I'll peak at you (Pikachu) and blast toys (Blastoise) I clap boys and when them rods are powing I'm give III, matics like Nas' album And they all gon' pop and stretch him So y'all know who's gon' die, III Will like Nas' best friend I don't wanna hear nothing 'bout how you rhyme about dope Only reason you ever flipped a quarter is cause you a Grind Time host [Round 3: Illmaculate] He wanna act like he a gun for hire, like he'll bust the iron If you believe that then I'm the caveman that discovered fire In other words "No you won't you f**ing liar." See you do not have 'caine to package, you became an addict You a blatant f*ggot, f** outta here you little boy go play in traffic I'II murk you and anyone that you sit around with On different couches talking sh** I'm better than you and there's no way to get around it Me and Conceited were shooting craps it got serious and the chips amounted I roll snake eyes then took the cash like "You ain't gon' do sh** about it." It's like you played at the Casino, I just robbed him for all of his cheese And don't play with me Mijo, you ain't shaving a kilo You just a fraudulent G Look at him I'm deflating his ego Son's co*ky but all of us see I got built up frustration and I been waiting To Debo somebody smaller than me And you fit the bill, you're chick's next She got a Pelican's beak and a thick neck That sh** look's like an elephants knee And if she gets wet you could probably smell it for weeks Now that's some sh** the best pimp couldn't sell in the streets You don't want it with me you'll get stretched You're too delicate chief See he wanted to be in Dipset but his impressions were weak He even met most of the camp yo, it was a big deal for him He ran up on Cam's Lambo and tried to squeegee the windshield for him Cam sped off, he like "I just wanted to roll in his whip and drive with him." Even he knew when it's time to roll with your clique, you're side switching He's like "what's wrong? I'm loading the clip, my 9's clicking" Then 40 Cal spit in his face and told em to stop dry snitching And this gay b**h ain't wash his face since Now he's off to fronting like "oh this is Juelz cell calling" He's as soft as muffin's but he feel like he accomplished something Just cause Hell Rell robbed him He loved every second of it too, he even caught his b**h misbehaving She was with Duke Da God getting naked And that sh** didn't even get em angry He thought his membership to the crew was under consideration Cause Duke tricked him saying "Con close the door, it's only initiation." Then this b**h, he started grinning like a little hoe He thought they let him in the crew, good thing they didn't though They like "I'm sorry Con, you just too little holmes." Then he had a fit to throw like "All my b**hes say that, man I figured so." This b**h, he even got a story about Jimmy Jones He was trying to get his autograph outside of one of his biggest shows On some Stan sh** he was in the cold, -6 below 4 hours and he just said "no." Stand on your own, this is one of my pet peeves You talk strong, but if you thought he was a threat? Please... You thought wrong, cause in real life He's just a TextCee on letsbeef.com That's why I'm already thinking bout the next battle after him Cause I got trophies and rings in real life and you're just a text battle champion And for those of y'all with a life that don't know what that means This motherf**er signs online, battles other nerds just like himself All around the world, it's f**ing sad, look... And that's why I ain't buying your hard act, like you violent and all that You wouldn't step inside of a fight or a small scrap He ain't banging in street wars He's the type to resolve that banging his keyboard and typing in all caps So don't say another word Any street cred you mistakenly gave em was undeserved You're a f**ing nerd, you ain't flipping birds You're just flipping out whenever your cordless mouse doesn't work While Poindexter talks about how he murders cats Or has the burner strapped He rather be debating the finer points of HTML vs Flash with his nerdy a** You ain't pitching crack rock for the cash You live your life on the net, you should be the mascot of that trash And if you don't like it, what you gon' do? Bust a Caps lock on my a**? You a Girl Scout so don't act like you drama starting or your Llama's sparking All serve you all a cart and you leave you on a carton Cause in real life he's just a bus boy at the f**ing Olive Garden And don't give me that look like you don't know what I'm talking 'bout Your runs over I seen it I'll come to your work, knock the plate settings off your table And stomp you out when you come over to clean it Try running up, I'll murk em, watch em break in two Lil homie what the f**? I'm not person trying to play with you You could be runner up, this serve is not debatable Cause you ain't got a gun to bust, but I'm sure you got a table to So this b**h right here, he got a job So that's a fact I'm normally fine with looking past But how you gon' come to the battle smelling like Tortellini shrimp alfredo, a hooker's a** I swear to God, fetch me some food to eat and your finest wine And don't worry about this battle, you're gonna lose to me, it's finalized Cause you ain't in your comfort zone without a work apron And a computer screen to hide behind I know they watching this battle like "sh**, he's relentless." I should let this square fix me some breakfast But instead go get me some bread sticks or I'm keeping your 15% b**h So if you wanna talk about my crew, you better speak on facts Cause on the real you ain't seeing none of my team on tracks And as far as the streets go, you really think he gon' scrap? Only one weighs a buck 20 and he'll stomp this peon flat I got 5 G's and both my rings on that Body bag... [Round 3: Conceited] Greg you got identity theft, I swear I think III lost it You wanna be black so bad you want us to call you "milk chocolate" See I'm rock hard, you a soft daisy You couldn't be Slim, who you supposed to be? Short Shady? And the Sand People a bunch of wannabe Eminem's But y'all bugging with the swag since y'all wanna be M&M's I'ma put him in a bag And this is the truth, please believe it Since y'all fake M&M's we'll call him Reeces Pieces So I could look at your face and see that cap is lying Matter fact that Mac is flying A computer charger won't save this Mac from dying So Mac stop, a laptop's the only time we see Mac with keys Got no cheese, Velveeta's the only time we see Mac with cheese I go in his house with Beretta's and pounds I'ma k** this square, make sure he's never a-round You'll be dead in the ground I got n***as in Cali that'll clap men So I got a Westside Connection that'll give Mac, 10 (Mack 10) So you saying you the best? I'm not buying it How the f** are you Ill when Mac's don't get viruses? So why you even try to spit when all you making is gay songs? How you gon' blow up like Napalm When you couldn't even blow up an H bong? I keep that thang palmed, and when the hammy bucking crazy They'll have to identify you by your legs like the nanny from Muppet Baby I want your gravy so don't act surprised After I book with his loot I'm cooking this fruit like an apple pie All them jokes gon' get you top story on channel 5 So keep being funny and like Bernie you'll be another Mac to die Rapping wise this is a written battle all that freestyling sh** you not shining You must've lost your noodle If you think you could come off the top rhyming (Top Ramen) You rely on rebu*tals, writtens is what you're lacking the most You will never be a rapper with quotes You more like Laffy Taffy, just a rapper/wrapper with jokes I'm clapping the toast, when the caliber's sparking They gon' click and pop like when Africans talking Your whole bracket is boring We all said the North West is that silly division He claim he "run it," Think he on the same level as Lush and Drect, but really he isn't As far as Grind Time you just a b*tch That wanna be President like Hilary Clinton See listen what me and you spitting is different You rap about making bills And you might have clips/Clipse but they ain't for real (Pharrell) So I don't wanna hear how you spray the steel or air the Ruger You like Ferris Bueller, you faking ill You got basic sk**, how the f** you want the crown? Going to labels like "I swear you gon' love the sound, just play a track." But since your name is MAC they shut you down The whole crowd'll jump around cause I'm running this big show You'll be down from just one bar, something like limbo Once I let all the guns and the clips blow For the first time y'all gon' see a Mac running through Windows With all this info I sweat this sh** is scary You sweeter than a dingle berry You such a wannabe The Saurus just change your name to Dictionary But now I think you wanna be me, what kinda sh** are you on? Little man you better cut it like a coupon Cause you not a G MC so what makes you think that you Con (Yukon)? I keep the tool on, when the caps'll pop em I swear he'll go in the freezer like Baskin Robbins Play Batman then my a** is Robin/Robbin And don't think that your raps are rocking The Saurus been carrying III longer than Magic Johnson Cause I swear III you nothing but a peon Like that Celtics player The Saurus got Po on his back we should call hi Leon You might think The Sand People gon' be there for you to lean on If that's your people, I'ma have Sand in front of the ER like Deon So now we all know that Illmac fake Don't think Mac Lethal This Mac 10 will have him with Mac Dre I swear you nothing like a sad waste Since you look like Eminem this how I'm gon' diss you Them big jeans is yelling "ILLMAC I DON'T FIT YOU!"