Murda Mook - Jae Mills vs Murda Mook lyrics

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Murda Mook - Jae Mills vs Murda Mook lyrics

[Round 1: Murda Mook] You a phony homie it's time you get executed Somebody tried and failed and I'm a be the best to do it And best believe I ain't taking an L I'm a treat 'em like a turtle put his face in a shell You ain't taking it well that's what you get for talking, it's my fault I should've paid for his mom's abortion That's a no-no Lesson in life; don't owe dough And on the low though, it may stand for most h*mo He got a lil deal but his bread can't hurt me I remember you and Charlie used to share Jerseys Now you talk gangsta, but partner's lying Ain't you the n***a used to get smacked in art and design? Lil fat f*ggot n***a running around trying to rhyme One of them n***as that got sent to the store from time to time I been in this sh** I'm labeled as a menace to the game Every second flipping a brick addicted to the caine Don't talk about your rims and how they spinning on your Range Cause when you stop only thing still spinning is your waves And you know Mook pops off I nicknamed my gun can opener Mills, it'll take your top off Now look at him sick I know he bout to hurl but let's get a lil more personal I know about his girl, he got a wife named Cether Everybody skeets her all I had to get her was cab fair and a pizza But you cuffs the b**h you won't ever leave her She a dog off the chain Mills you better leash her Might see me court side, Rucker game beast up Try run up on me, just know I be pieced up I never let you take sh** when the tray spit It'll leave him unidentified like a spaceship He the type to take 8 nicks and say his weight flipped I'm the type that use St. Nick for my bay strip Imaging me dying of Millz We got a better chance of seeing Jay-Z resigning Amil I'm what's real, run up on you dump them 3's You a p**y it's that time of the month to bleed Don't worry about me, don't ask me my business Where was you when you crew got they a** beat on Lenox? All I know is Vado got hit by some guy, yo The sh** sounded like he got hit by a Tahoe Everything after all I seen was his eyes closed But it could've been my fault he was probably high though [Round 1: Jae Millz] Lil n***a don't get it f**ed up this ain't Making The Band f** $5,000 you'll get scraped for a grand And after this I ain't gon' hate on your man I'm a just cop a ring and walk around with his cake on my hand You is a fronter talking bout you's a stunna You ain't a gunna we all know you's a runner I'm my own man, my name is what them checks under n***a I can pay your family's rent til next summer Can't no n***a you know disrespect my rep I put up my own 5 like I set the bet I'll let 5 wreck your neck, live on MTV so you could get the Direct Effect f** spitting on a beat I throw a clip in the heat Spray off and give you a couple of hits from the street Homes you ain't got the heart to be trife You ain't a gangsta, you's a Delta that live a sorority life Listen this is an X factor I don't bother with hype I'm a street legend, f*ggot, you should honor me twice I ain't the one you should hype I run up on you while you rocking that bum a** shirt Then put the pump to your stripes aight f** it I might put the pump to your wife Like, "ma you choose you either drink cum or your life" Think I'm slipping? Not at all my n***a I'm a motherf**ing animal you should've stuck to ball my n***a I ain't a joke, stupid, my flow will give you flesh wounds Yeah I'm for real (Pharrell) but no, I ain't the Neptunes I'm the vet whom we'll put the Wes' to him And make it clap til ain't a damn thing left to him I bring d**h to em Make hollows jump out the barrel and stretch through em I'll put a X to em this n***a dead somebody bring the EMS to em This n***a ain't even aight how you bringing the best to him? Are you serious? Are they serious? [Round 2: Murda Mook] n***as is hopping on that silly sh**, I leave they face leaking Once they head get the same treatment that a Philly get Y'all n***as k** me, sh** with all that or k** me sh** He probably got a millie, question really will he spit Thank god he ain't ever had his hands on it Cause in beef his guns play Carter and then they jam on it He don't f** with hoes, I know son imo That's why he down with the record label `Wanna Blow' Y'all n***as softer than baby sh**, you crazy prick If you think that I ain't got 80 kids that [?] cribs I spray clips but I'm way past throwing hollow's My gun shoot slugs the size of corona bottles Ol' boy we'll make Making The Band gas you, you ain't a rapper You should try making a sand castle You don't know with this 8 in my hand I got your fate in my hand And I could be making your man clap you? You don't want me put in the damn order To take your b**h, rape the b**h Tape her sh** and make you hold the camcorder You the hottest out? Please Jae He lost to a n***a that walked to Brooklyn for cheesecake It was a meat stake he try to f** with me I'm born on Friday the 13th, ain't no luck with me Dog talk how he spray those things When your gun shoot blank man, he should call it Damon Wayons He the type that's not known to k**, but always wanna hold the steel I roll up on him, he like ..... cause he know the drill I would never replace you in my shoes Look at his face, I got snakes cuter than you He probably got a jump shot in a rear wheel mix But when I'm finished with him He gon' have to try out for the wheelchair Knicks Why they come make me rap against you? This sh** as easy as Shaq trying to snap a pencil Ain't no effort involved, think twice before stepping to John Cause I got a bomb that'll make n***as skip from 41st to 43"d cause 42nd is gone And you wrong if he talking bout how his flow is so rare His career is on a treadmill, yeah he getting run But he ain't going nowhere So the next time you talk how you hold that four How you gon' run up on the kid take my throwback off How you gon' see me in the streets, take all my raw I'm a blow your brain in your hands and tell you hold that thought Easy man [Round 2: Jae Millz] It must be cause of Hot 9 or cause he see my face on TV now Got this ugly a** n***a thinking I'm sweet now Like I won't run up on him and have him hearing more co*king And popping than a Whoo Kid freestyle Listen I'm a street child That'll spit in your face and put 21 on your chest like D. Miles You's a lil n***a who you gon' beat down? You choir boy you can't even tear a beat down You ain't gotta say I'm hot, so what? f** you! n***a I get respect from the rappers you look up to Plus no one love you So even when I die you stand under my grave I'm a still be above you Half of me is like Millz he can't touch you But the other half is like f** it he trying to crush you And I work to hard to climb the charts and fall To a n***a named John Archibald? Dog coming at Millz that's not smart at all Battling Millz that's like playing ball at the park in fall It's embarra**ing how the flow is just pa**ing him He dreaming and imagine him, Roscoe starting to laugh at him This sh** a disgrace be for real I'm cooking him straight This n***a sick now, look at his face! Wait The grave six feet but I'm digging it deeper I'm starting to Takeover and giving him Ether Them things stay on my homeboys hip like a beeper He couldn't walk in my shoes, nor live in my sneakers What the f** is a Murda Mook? You murdering who? n***a you's trash you can't even murder the booth What's the last gun you clutch? Last gun you bust? Matter of fact b**h name the last gun you touched I mean if you wanna be serious We all know you ain't living out what you spitting out Point blank, period All that bullsh** you talking? I ain't hearing it You ain't gotta tell me bout your deal cause I'm wearing it [Round 3: Murda Mook] Aye man didn't I tell you to stop talking? Now your frame gon' be the one that the cops chalking f** cars, you can catch me at a Glock auction Don't call me Mook, call me 22 shots walking How you doing homie? Nice to meet you Jarvis Everybody in attendance, let's get this started He the nicest? I can tell this kid's retarded Throw him in a psychiatric ward, get his head straight And get off my dick, I can't afford your dead weight You go against me? You'd rather fight a Fed case My school used to always say I was a head case I was the only 5th grader blowing L's And from how I used to always bring guns to show and tell He'll bring a box with some things that he fix I'll bring a Glock with some things in the clip Go ahead, turn your back if you like Cause through the grapevine Millz, I heard that's how you ask for the pipe Don't get trapped in the hype homeboy, you ain't real I don't wanna hear no mess about how you spray steel Cause in the pen I heard they told you to stay still Twenty n***as in the shower ready to J Millz He yap a good game... [Round 3: Jae Millz] I just wanna walk with you, I don't wanna battle I just wanna talk to you How you feel about me? Yo I think I'm really hot When I rhyme your b**h grab her puss and diddy bop She put her skully down And if you ain't like the burner we might cut a n***a Or you might just get jumped by a couple n***as I get my n***as hype enough they wanna buck a n***a And you's a b**h you the type that wanna f** a n***a See you's a s**a n***a, the type to run your track get your face smacked And yell "Watch when I come back!" You small in these streets like a thumbtack Thinking you thug cause you got some beads, a bandanna and one tat I ain't no gangsta, I'm just Millz homie Same cats I grew up with, yeah, we still homies And made, yeah we still side by siding, riding And whenever it's war we never hiding I'm still on the strip from sun up to sun down Till the sun come back up, go ahead act up Have him like a running back, running back To his block with bruises on his front and back And he don't really want none of that, so listen bro you slipping yo Come on I ain't trying to stick your hoe Look I done been up in your girl p**y, I knew Puff and I knew Mason Still through the hating, I'm still MH'ing So let me know something yo, you can't change my living To them like Tyson's ex, we robbin' (Robin) you given (Givens) Cause you an actress, talking bout you sold weight n***a only thing white you know is Colgate But now for like the same three summers it's the same three numbers Until the end I'm a rep straight MH and Warner I know n***as be pissed when I come through Bumping my sh** blowing wild chocolate blowing haze out the sunroofs So don't try to front duke [Round 4: Murda Mook] Your lame lines ain't amusing duke, I heard harder sh** in a musical And I'm murder proof, you can never murder Mook Nickname me Rae Carruth If he wanna talk abuse, talk his b**h off the roof You a lame solider, you the same solider Your face get ran over, you know I'm still the same Still slang the same cocoa and for the right price I slain your man over You know you ain't really hard, you just a b**h with a titty job Murder Mook will gun up on your Michigan state, put six in your face You know Murda Mook spit harder than most He got a dirty mouth I let him gargle the toast He see the spark and the smoke He foolish if he think he dodging them both Got targeted his scope, his brain will be a part of the coast I market the coke, you need work? You'll be catered Dog, I move more raw than a sushi waiter From New York to Georgia all through Decatur I'm his bosses boss, man I do him favors Got shoes and they usually gator, got tools usually something I can use Introduce your maker, put clips in your frame, I'm a movie maker Got chicks for some change, you a groupie chaser Dudes is haters, mad cause I'm me Mad cause what I call bad moving half of a key Pack two guns and that's when I'm sleep The bottom line I'm getting kinda tired so you ba*tards should flee Why should I chit chat? I'm a boss I don't get that I'm a spit caps at your six pack and watch your ribs crack Take advice get back, you don't really wanna die He can't blossom out his bag, he ain't a f**ing bu*terfly I know how to make the bu*ter fly, you cop once, you cop twice You got 10 I got white, I got grams I got sliced Wanna cop from me? Wait a minute I got you b I hold the roc well that's why I feel like someone watching me Why n***as talk songs with trashy hooks? Why would I wanna be in his shoes? He got athletes foot I done did more than half these crooks I keep telling these f*gs, it's a difference between facts and book [Round 4: Jae Millz] As far as your breath go you wasting it Cause you trash plus you s** so face it stupid You not making it, please what is you saying b**h I got rhymes from '96 that's hotter than half of your latest sh** I'm a beast n***a I will depart you Matter fact why argue? n***a who are you? Oh I get it you just wanna get a lil fame so you could get a lil name And probably get up in the game I got fans fam', and I'm talking a good amount And Mook well relatives and friends in your hood don't count I'm a star in cities and states you never even seen n***a The f** you mean n***a? Come on, I'm mean n***a And if I tell you I'm a smack the sh** out you That's exactly what I mean n***a Look I don't just rap it f*ggot I'm living it And you? Just talk about the jungle, but I live in it This sh** is like a sport and this soccer n***a is kicking it But my n***as is balling, shooting it out, n***as is riding through couping it out All flossy and sh** with his b**h and his j**elry out But I'm trying to go from a stoop to a house So you dumb n***as tell me why you think that the tools is out I'm comfortable why you think that my j**els is out You's a lil n***a somebody look the fool is out Listen, homie I live this I don't just talk it And a ticket of embarra**ment yo a** is boarded f** shopping demos dog don't force it Want a deal lil man? Come with me I'll walk you into an office I show you how to make these bosses, pa** you offers Houses and sh** and cla**y Porsche's You ain't ever had Sean Combs shaking your hand Like damn you are the man, dude understand You are not a rapper you are a fan You probably got your Best of Millz mad cipher tape I'm a veteran fool you stepping to who I'm like Godzilla you Peppe Le Peu You better than who? It's time we medal the score You just mad cause downtown my name get mentioned more than yours Only b**h n***as talk like who*es Homeboy you false, you don't got what it cost to ball So you wanna sport the Jacob but your dough ain't there yet And you wanna be the kid but your flow ain't there yet I know you wanna see me fail, but I'm NBA'in it John you still P.A.L I'm sick with an unfriendly speech Freddy ain't got nothing on me n***a I'm a nightmare on any street Mellow or dark I'm a nightmare on any street And I'll embarra** any geek Prick I got plenty heat, rarely talk I just let my grants and Benji's speak And in a year I'm a let my Rolls and Benzy's speak [Round 5: Murda Mook] Relax homie you don't want no drama Talking silly, I can see you don't like yo mama So I'm a run up in your crib, snatch her and the kid And leave him in a cage starving with your man Osama You the hardest n***a spitting and sh**, he'll approach with a toast Dickhead ain't have a clip in his sh** So I pulled out the clip and the fifth and he tried to split Second rookie mistake, I had an emph on the sh** So I started spitting the sh** and he was dodging, flipping and sh** Behind cars in the windows and sh** And I compare life to a Scarface movie, you right I just skip to the end of the sh** Listen here, it's a Reyonld's wrap, cause I spit rapid heat That'll fill your cavity like a dental cap You big b**h, when you was an infant his first words was probably "Yo mama, where the menu at?" You want war? I'll give it to you First hand, brought two extra heaters Just in case the first jam, don't try to step to me Now you know I squirt cans Make sure you rest in peace I bring it to your church fam' I got too many heats to blow Precinct h*mo y'all got chiefs to blow Don't talk about squeezing fours Cause I'll have his face with more red sh** than pizza dough n***a, no-no-n0000, you don't wanna see this fo-fo blow You the type to trick all yo dough, call em over but your who*es don't show And look at this, you got a lil something on your wrist But listen up when I tell you that the story got a twist When something go wrong, he coming to two fif My watch get shipped to Switzerland to get fixed And you talk about a brick, which cracks you chopping? Calling your poppy the only time he ask for Papi I remember the n***a was fat and sloppy Running around Harlem trying to say his a** was stocky He a stupid mahf**a he don't act too properly He the type, go in a meat market and ask for broccoli You ga**ed I'm not, see [Round 5: Jae Millz] Ayo my flow is swifter than a young Magic What? And the level that you just now reaching stupid I been pa**ed it I write cla**ics, but never mind that f** all this rap sh** He'll get his a** kicked Yeah you could rap it, but you might as well go kiss a n***a n***a, cause to me you still a f*ggot You'll get your abs ripped Shorty I got mad clips With bullets the size of Chinese crab sticks Small timer you ain't sticking nothing You's a lil n***a I bet you and your b**h be humping Listen to yourself you spit like a youngin' Damn you still on that battle sh** take your a** to 106 or something Get a hustle, try to stack up your chips or something Save up try to lease a lil whip or something But please, just leave me the f** alone Stop trying to shine off me and come up on your own, homes From what I heard you could've been superb in hoops But now you run around trying to spit words in groups It don't matter, Mook Murda or Murda Mook Either way this n***a p**y my mother will murder Mook f** all the magazines and sh** I live this, you don't even dream the sh** I love when n***as try to make a scene and sh** So it don't shock you when you ask "yo you seen that sh**? Look at his grill you seen how Millz leaned that sh**? What happened to Mook why he look like a fiend and sh**?" Cops said I shouldn't have snapped at him But he was talking raw like his flow was dope So I had to spit some crack at him f** throwing snaps on him, I put the Mac on him Leave him laid out in the park and Maybach on him Your mama named you Johnathan, so I'm a call you Lil Jon And you don't rap all you do is scream like you Lil Lon