URLtv - JC vs Chef Trez lyrics

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URLtv - JC vs Chef Trez lyrics

[Round 1: Chef Trez] Yo I say, you know neither one of us gon’ lose right? We both gon’ win I mean you’ll battle anybody, I’ll battle anybody, you back on Smack, I’m back on Smack You Writers Bloque, I’m Writers Bloque, n***a we twins But where we separate, I won’t clown you for And that’s your dance issues n***a the revolver got a spin with a kick, I’m tryna dance with you We was raised different, the sh** we go through day to day different God told you get baptised, he told me to get a gun We was saved different A savage, I am one, young hothead with a handgun Send him to God He’ll be facing the light, like Mike P with a man bun You want war, hell, I’m at his whip when he with his gang ’bout to spark shells But y’all snitches, so y’all can get beheaded if anyone in that car tell How he a k**er? If he don’t play his part well You don’t hold weight on either side, you not a barbell You had nothing to market, no brand As far as writing good what had you done J? Nothing But I got known off of branding like DeAndre dunking And I see how n***as like “ehhh” I’m kinda cool with it Like y’all ain’t really see how I’m going off Like mid-round rebu*tals I can do this sh** ’cause I’m showing off Like ain’t Saga a Christian? So hold on to that ‘Cause y’all believe he beasting, but any n***a with him They’ll get popped if they think he decent Like I make a mess in front of JC’s mans on stage that’s Tink tha Demon But you say a Stephen Curry bar every battle, that sh** not working You never switch it up, that’s why they criticize the form when the shot perfect But they put a battery in your back like they tryna get the clock working Well I’m Glock squirting, I got money and guns A band and a nose ringing, it’s the Pac version You want me to put your spine in front of you? And send you back to the future when shots pouring from the ratchet Or you wanna get your body stretched from the arm when I clap it Or right before you start dancing, tilt your head with a cap and put four in your basket That’s 3 options, you can get it like Michael, J That’s Fox, Jordan or Jackson I proved I can hang here a few times, you didn’t And everybody saying crack the reason Yung Ill ain’t been back, well it’s a few victims ‘Cause I still haven’t forgot how Roc had you missing I mean we all seen it, they dropped you from the league I know you gotta care It was like the biblical days when Jesus got stones threw at him ‘Cause the second JC saw rock he was outta there Smack gon’ get this ba*tard merc’ed, see my last bout? Well I’mma drag him worse Clip pop, sh** still leaking out after the kid drop, it’s after-birth I’ll drag him to the middle of his city while he dead, that’s how a savage work All you gon’ here about is JC dying, like a Baptist church Free the homie NHB Mills, I’m sure that’s how you feel of course Bro be behind you every battle, giving you real support That’s my bro too, so I scream “free Mills” before I spark a shot Then release the mil’ like bro got his charges dropped Personally I don’t give a f** about Julian or any Carter I had a truth by me, he the size of Blue Ivy Just a mini Carter He don’t bear sh** or be with bears b**h, who you tryna convince you a grizzly Carter? I’ll have 30 n***as pistol whip you, like 30 9s press a dent in your sh** Now you Jimmy Carter You battle with random n***as and vets, I even seen you flowing in the cage But your career was at a stand still, you wasn’t getting closer to the greats Till you joined the Bloque, now you super Mario, now notice he relates He must have been on shrooms jumping to the Bloque ‘Cause now we see him growing on the stage You went to war with a few members, but now it’s my turn to get you But you coming back so they say it’s a lesson I’mma learn against you Well did the sky crack? Did he come here on a white horse? Did the trumpets go off? Did the fire burn and hit you? No? So how the f** is JC’s return official? I got gifted ways, but a lot of the sh** I’ve seen let the kid rage So be a k**er or get k**ed but you still got to pick a way So mask up, get a blade or grip the spray Be equipped with Ks, it’s just advice Either he can purge or he lying after the fifth get raised I bring BL4 back to life, just to show you how you could get slaughtered We don’t see the franchise you built, you’ll never make it in Brooklyn, Carter [Round 1: JC] So URL need a n***a that’ll actually stack some bodies But that’s me n***a But a team member, well I’ll have to stash it probably 
Which is fine but, get in line while I thrash the body 
And make it the worst sh** to respond to 
Allen Iverson, Tyronn Lue 
It’s gon’ be one step past a body 
n***as couldn’t hold half my spot 
Ask the Bloque, n***as ask for shots then they turn they back 
So that gets shot 
n***a ask the docs about the patients I left ‘em And I won’t quit yet, I got more clips left And the cap’ll swallow his head like the old Dipset 
I’m in a cla** by myself, why acknowledge me? 
Ain’t no trying stopping me, they just dying watching me 
Crews at the top of it like Scientology 
Now y’all think I believe, in every battle I’ve had My opponents is the ones that really got the heaters 
Oh but soon as I rap, that’s when the room turn into non-believers 
Them same n***as probably think ‘Bron really drive a Kia 
Trez, you do know them slum slums Ill Will got famous for rapping ’bout? Where I was born and raised, nothing these n***as rap about get the boy amazed 
If we approach you, just stand your ground, the Florida way 
And it’s too late to jump ship when the 40 rain ‘Cause we lifting whole arcs up, for 40 days And the kid own it, with different joints 
And like when you hit Hogan, well you get the point 
The clips loaded, metal swinging like hypnosis 
Get focus, ain’t no over heads It’s point blank range b**h you know he dead They called you the Chef but they read you wrong 
You would blow the lead before you blow the lead, and you know it Trez But it’s fine, you can go ‘round with Saga if you think prayer is enough to protect us 
I’m from the hood, I know comedians ain’t the only n***as that run into hecklers 
So be smart tonight, don’t mention the Bloque, and won’t none of the homies aid you 
They didn’t have to promise me, it’s Sean Connery The bond is just too old to save you 
And if he don’t step down, we take the whole set down 
Kick the door in, hit the vault, quicker than a Cortez round I left bodies on this road that I’ve traveled, I just slump another then slump another 
No f**ing wonder, dog got drive like Dumb and Dumber If you got any threat save it, your next statement might not even make the arrest papers It’s nickel around that 9, the tech plated Ain’t no life flashing, it’s life snatching That b**h’s beautiful, and breathtaking Say what you want, but ain’t nobody ran in my spot ever And they won’t, I hold that strap 
I send a n***a in front of God in that mask, like he Kodak Black 
It’s body bags at every battle, make sure your homies found one 
But do not jump in that b**h yet ’cause it’s only round one [Round 2: Chef Trez] Y’all n***as love this little short motherf**er when he spit his raps And he Writers Bloque, he kinda cold, I ain’t even gon’ say the n***a wack But see I did grow up in the slum slums, and n***a you not that crazy It is Kodak Black too Every round over the head coming from a project baby I swear to God I was only gon’ have one rebu*tal, but y’all wanna see a dummy get merc’ed I mean for that bull it’s crazy how I can put money on his head and then have money on his shirt n***a I’m giving you that work, n***a I don’t know Last battle I had P in all red n***a that’s Smack shirt I peeped it, you try hard to make ’em believe in what you say you gon’ do Well I say what it is, point blank period b**h, you can take it how you want to You have no stripes, no muscle on the Bloque This fake a s**er You a grown man in a child’s body little man, what you weighing brother? I’mma make a big statement, get outta place and your sh** breaking You don’t gotta have a piece of facial hair to get a quick shaving I can cut both of your sides and then fade it Or slice your dome and have your wig hanging on the other side like the Temptations You out of your element, this not what you was made for Tell yourself focus, Smack finessed you, brung you closer to d**h too It seems like a Shell motor but now the sh** peaches and cream, 112 wrote it They got Jackson playing Carter like Samuel L. coaching But not only that was a JC flip, Jackson Carter, see it’s still a JC flip And n***as telling me I look like dude from Friday that pulled Ezel out the store So y’all wanna play now Well if it’s true he’ll get it like Ezel ‘Cause once he slip up, I’mma make him take this 40 on the way out Now look at me then look at you, you just half the man I have a plan, grab the can if he rush ours It’ll kick in front of Carter like Jackie Chan But not only was that a JC flip, Jackie Chan, Jackie Carter, it’s still a JC flip This n***a wack, you not gon’ win two rounds Yeah all them cats love you But he tryna sham God So even if I start losing a round I’ll snatch it back from you If you ask about the sh** he rapping ’bout he change the subject I got Writers Bloque, my gang is coming Empire Mongols, my Genghis coming And you’ll get a limp chopped for the green yeah, the gang’ is coming Then give him writer’s block Baow! He won’t think of nothing You out here judging careers, just ’cause Tryna belittle people like your sh** dope Besides jacking crazy bars you ain’t sh** though Julian Carter jeopardizing his crew, y’all can get split if clips blow JC gon’ be the reason sh** get separated, that’s Jim Crow But not only was that a JC flip Judging careers, just ’cause, jacking crazy, jeopardizing crew, Jim Crow, those are JC flips I’m not scared of J, you really not too threatening now Me taking a L, no I refuse, ay anybody thinking otherwise can bet it now Wait, J-U-L-I-A-N see the Chef is wilding Just like that setup: I can blow him to pieces and have Julian spreaded out You dying s**er, see how my lines structured, my mine gutter Nines touch ya’ Since JC is God son, his background get blew like Nas cover And n***as telling me he too nice, like rebu*tals won’t work at all this time Well if the first gun bu*t don’t work I’ll do it again and the re-bu*t’ll do the job this time [Round 2: JC] It’s really hard for me to adjust to this new generation No lie, it’s like they move strange They would rather wear diamonds holding loose change As far as j**elry, my only concern is the food chain 
And y’all on it, it’s too easy for me to target what’s necks n***a all of you next, and you gotta be ready to die over them words So don’t talk me to d**h 
They might not know you scared Trez, but I do Oh and you gon’ show it 
’Cause that last round was not enough my n***a, and we both know it 
You wanna battle rap till you die fine, your career might benefit you in a box 
But it ain’t your size, so they might have to bend to fit you in a box 
You’re not a k**er my n***a, neither is Denzel Washington Y’all just act really well 
We jump different hurdles, you a ninja turtle I drop a band and a head get wrapped with a shell 
It’s way different when I rap n***a, they don’t call me the man for nothing 
I mean I don’t joke with n***as, it’s not poker n***a But you could lose a hand for bluffing ‘Cause everybody knows taking me is a disaster and sh** 
But do the math, you should know you gon’ get punched when you ask for the sh** 
And it’ll be nothing else in your path this exciting, God pen But the Devil in me grabbing the iron and Hey these’ll get to cracking like Clash of the Titans 
I don’t know about y’all n***as but me, see I love doubt 
Squeeze and leave a lung out 
This appear in the ring like the genie on Punchout n***a bring troops, the four sing n’ rain like R&B groups I’m smoother rhyming with the punch than Dolomite 
But the punch hit you, like the bowl was spiked Let me explain to y’all why n***as is starting to think 4 bars setups not even nice at all 
It’s ’cause you always telegraph the punch like…..”it’s right here y’all” 
That sh** worse than handing your playbook to the defense before you hike the ball 
Piece of advice, don’t let your crew amp you I got a new handle 
And y’all gon’ see a n***a end ’em all with the trey Like food samples 
I can stand with my hands behind my back, rap, and still get a reaction 
Pretending you had balls in your hand was your biggest reaction 
And you n***as reacted But don’t worry though, ‘cause I’m back And I’mma make y’all hate it 
This is not a situation y’all safe with Hollows loaded in front of me like I’m Arsonal 
But I’mma make y’all take ’em 
A buck at a time like a Ray Charles payment 
But if he not home, we coming for you later 
Doomsday ya’, all through the crib with the trey like the butler in Tomb Raider n***a you rap and I rap but we at a great length apart Like you study, but game tapes can’t prepare you for the mental part 
Like how could I have left, come back years later and some of these n***as favorite still 
That’s ’cause I aim to k** My advice: make a will, before Jesus take the wheel 
Forewarning, don’t be surprised at the sound of the fifth when it clap Or try to whisper to Smack like “how he get in with that?” 
It’s nothing to tell boy Uncle Elroy: I slip this in the back [Round 3: Chef Trez] I was at this n***a mama house one Sunday right I mean that old b**h a hoochie I’m smooth, laid back cooling on some boy sh** Ay, let’s hit that damn jacuzzi She said that’s a bet, pop that a** real quick His people showed up like an hour late Now it is Uncle Elroy, ’cause that mag done popped in the pool like his nephew with the sour face They say it’s no way his crazy bars could lose to my average sh**, and that’s a sin You see how my hunger and pa**ion blends I figured this a ATM ‘Cause as long as the numbers was right for this card I can just punch in order to get past the pen We all name-flip, we all use angles, we all punch It just depends who better with the sh** Like in basketball: they all shoot, all play defense all dribble But it’s levels to the sh** So try to downplay what I do, when you do the same sh** it’s the wrong move I added season to the formula, so how you gon’ tell the chef how to cook his own food You can’t be a master at what you do if you ain’t master what you do You gotta see the end vision I envision that this gon’ be your end, vision Me dying, please be quiet, I’m too cutting the Bloque That’s an incision But what you gon’ say, I rapped on Jon Jon league Well that sh** let you know that the pen different OG said don’t stop shooting till everything in that sub gone And make sure you got something over your hands, that’s word to this scrub’s home See you was working with the pen tryna put on for the Glove We were staying away from the pen ’cause we put the gloves on Smack said “get him,” but see all that ga**ing for him just gon’ make his head bigger It’s also gon’ be the reason the lead hit him Shots fly and have the Yak on the ground like rest in peace to my dead n***as I be in Pontiac in a Pontiac with my fam mobbing Catch JC with his b**h and rob him Like give up the bread, he like “fam stop it” Either you can walk away free or get the whole clip when the can popping I’mma make him choose between 0 and 30 Gave him Durant options See the youngster on his grind, I’m a monster with the nine Gun with the beam, put it by him If I dump it, then he dying It flash from his chin up like, ‘Once upon a time’ I swear to God if I have to grip it, my whole crew shooting And what’s up with these n***as with struggle and gangsta bars These dudes clueless n***as got shotties in their pants legs, deuce deuce in their boots but they move stupid I had the pack in my briefs, AR in my jeans, and I walk regular ’cause I’m used to it We was poppin’ locks, breaking in houses and tryna kick the door down You was pop, lock and breaking tryna tear the floor down I’ll turn savage on him, pull up in his block and I’m blasting something Two guns, I double the treys in that Michigan state. I’m Magic Johnson Yo Smack, next time I get on stage could you get a sign that says ‘beware’ please? I went from Ryda to Mike to JC my progress moving at rare speed But you stuck in the same spot, you were just with ARP over there see Where’s the progress, you went from Rare Breed to battling a rare breed Now let’s play swear to God, ’cause they say you a man of your word and you stand by it Well swear to God you wasn’t out there stealing 15 dollars from fans, talking ’bout they’ll get a signed album, see fam lying You out here stealing on fans like Ron Artest, this man trifling You bum a** out here finessing fans for Gram prices and you do it like the sh** cool See you a bold fellow Well I’ll send you half the 30, and put 15 in your face, you meet the old ‘Melo The weight I hold to you might be too much to curl But you be switching moods, in and out of emotions like a f**ing girl This like GTA story mode, ’cause changing your character will get you sent to another world And n***as question if I belong on this stage, this sh** is over with You caught a head shot, no open casket, they gotta close your sh** I walk up to your mother like “Sorry my condolences You miss your son? Yeah?” Baow! Y’all can be closer then If you can’t stand the heat stay the f** out the kitchen I done cooked another n***a time to clean up the dishes and Chef life [Round 3: JC] Now of course Smack did throw you to a wolf, but it’s a purpose for that You heard it’s a fact you can die here, so don’t blame that purpose on Smack You the chef, you were supposed to know the risk working with crack I attack too strong, you can lose your sanity going man to man with me Why even try? Lose a whole league of guys JC died for your sins, flip that, if you send for JC you die I done had enough stunts, let me guess You grew up trapping Dog was in the field with the birds like duck hunting- n***a shut up They gave you the f**ed up hand and you played with the sh** Even got him on stage with the sh**, tryna be the franchise Well don’t get caught in the wrong chain of events n***a my rage genuine, first it was “JC you gotta slow it down they not catching it, be patient with ’em” Then it was “Well where’s the old JC you gotta stop playing with ’em” That’s why it’s not worth it That’s why n***as still criticize the form when the shot perfect But you, you just gotta watch your next step ‘Cause the way I land mine makes everybody a target when I plan mine Your b**h catch the heat from these straps, she not walking out with tan lines I’m worse than the Undertaker in that cell This sh** can get ugly for man kind But this sh** an arm’s length I plead insanity, then take him from his family when the arms lift Then reunite him with his family on some Chris Benoit sh** I take ’em all, I’m tired of you and these 4 bars setup n***as Spitting that sh** that you hope is hot Then y’all end up every setup with “ain’t it ironic”- no n***a no it’s not! For what’s at stake, he get a tip then I have ’em documenting what’s left Then I give ’em more bucks like, compliments to the chef See what you looking at? This ain’t an image Guarantee we can see the same picture and still paint it different That’s ’cause my penmanship ended sh**, y’all witnessed it Finished it in the first round, you rebu*tal, if I’m generous I could have made this a whole homi first With me waving the strap like Bonnie third You wanna a movie about the life that you lived? Fine, the plot is first n***a headshot, noodles get boiled in the mix behind these bars Yeah I cook up with the shotty I catch him in traffic, make the sh** jam His parents gon’ be the 6th man ‘Cause they gon’ all pull up to a body Shout out to Tink tha Demon, but I might be the only one in the building that actually speak to demons Got a glove on both hands, didn’t even get ’em dirty but did him dirty Hit the Chef, with the 30 This Chef gon’ need a cater attempt to serve me No bygones, ’cause by dawn we hit the door up Jehovah witness early The path that a lot of these new n***as run trifling Everything from how they move has been done twice Even they speech is stolen like Trump wife But if y’all ever hear n***as that literally write they’re disgusting They deserve to get punished But this my man, he could have just sat observing the function ‘Cause now the naysayers gotta deal with the haymakers And as y’all see they still land, worse than Columbus