[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!"