Iron Solomon vs. Chilla Jones King of the Dot (Ft. Chilla Jones & Iron Solomon)

[Round 1: Chilla Jones]
Aye this remind me of them summer nights on Blue Hill Avenue
Cause y'all see me handle Krome now I'm up here snatchin' jewels (Jews)
It's a wrap for you
But before you can call me "wack", bitch I'm the King Pen
And for all three rounds I'ma show you why they call me that
What up Iron Aaron?
Now that I see that Iron here in I'm eyein' Aaron
Gunshots is what Iron hearin', hit Iron earrin' when iron airin'
I'll point a gun down at his young child
Do Iron heir in with Iron errands
Soon as Iron nearin' his head explode
They need a bowl to put his eye and ear in
Now I ain't erring on the side of caution
I ain't a regular rapper boy, every bar cold (code)
But maybe it'll register after
But amp him up, I'll up the cater, serve his head on a platter like hors d'oeuvres since y'all wanna egg on a cracker
Boy I'm a relevant factor
I know they say what you planned on
They pulled strings to get you took out, pussy, like a tampon
I'm hands on
You came for God then (Gordon) hey, word (Hayward)
I told him, "Break a leg" from the jump
Just hope his punches don't land wrong
My fans strong
Of course I'ma sell tics (Celtics), nigga save the hate
You think it's rosier (Rozier) on this side? Well be Smart before they make a statement
Cause Brown knows it'll only cause more issues
Then them K's is wavin', that Larkin sparkin'
You'll be takin' more shots in Boston than Jason Tatum
But what he say is amazin'
He lyrically should shine, cause he's a top tier writer with plenty of good lines
But do your research, and any good enemy would find
Iron ain't touched an arm since Penny from Good Times
Fuck them hood rhymes
Actin' like you sprayin' a burner
Summer Madness the only time you was facin' a murder (Murda)
When Mook was done witchu
All they found was your glasses and a Skittles bag
He owned holmes (homes) like the middle class, kicked his ass
Nine or the deuce deuce, which to blast?
Finally I said, "Fuck it", let eight off (Adolf) and killed you (Jew) with the little stash
And (Anne) Frank-ly, you're obsessed with battlin' Crips
I think you need help Cuz
I mean Daylyt, Magic, Nitty, Ars', you even called out Surf to make yourself buzz
I know why you target the Crips, even if nobody else does
It's biology, see Iron's biggest job is to help Blood
But you ain't never been a thug, not a day in your life son
Heard you had a couple side chicks, an Asian and white one
And you ain't never got tested? Well that wasn't very bright son
Or maybe you're so obsessed with Crabs you figured you'd give your wife some
But go 'head, diss Shotgun for being a Crip
You gon' die being a brilliant writer
The wrong line, then Suge'll (sugar) rush you like candy that got your children hyper
You only good with punches homie, you a resilient fighter
But I catch you before your flight outta Boston with no steel beside ya
So when y'all hear there was a shootin' at the airport, and now Chilla gotta chill with lifers, don't ask questions
Just know that I'm the reason there's metal in Logan like William Stryker
Bitch I'm a striker!
I swing fast, treat him like a speed bag
It's a wrap for him in the Middle East cause he jab (Hijab) with his weak ass
Homie I'm back to my rap pinnacle, I'll shoot his ass right on the couch; Vlad interview
Bullets blast into you, quick and fast intervals
So you choose, Brigham & Women's or Mass General?
A bad visual, get your right eye stuffed
If you don't want your fuckin' shirt turned to tie dye run
Cause this Eagle can give you wings, you gon' fly high son
Since your people live by the Desert you gon' die by one
You might've battled dudes who sound like me
But you ain't never stood in front of three rounds like these
Boss Town!