Bill Collector vs. Young Kannon URLtv (Ft. Bill Collector & Young Kannon)
"Bill Collector vs. Young Kannon" is a battle rap track featuring intense lyrical exchanges between the two artists, highlighting themes of competition, pride, and skill in the rap battle scene. Released in 2016, it showcases clever wordplay and aggressive delivery typical of the #HipHop genre. The song emphasizes the culture of battle rap, pushing both artists to showcase their talent and establish dominance.
[Round 1: Bill Collector]
(*Bill looks around the room*)
...This shit is weird
I was supposed to battle B Magic, then poof, he disappeared
Skrrt - switchin’ gears, they gave me this nigga here
Who in 10 years never switched his gear
Now, they got you winnin’ clear
I see the predictions here
But you only a star in Chicago, Richard Gere
Aye Verb, Calicoe
They dread how my style went from wavy to different here (hair)
Get prepared
Murder in thе first? I wouldn’t be shocked if I get thе chair
You really think you got classics here?
Boy, you’re dreamin’
You’re not catered for NOME, winter, spring, fall, or Summer Madness
You sure ain’t seasoned
These new people don’t know who you are
You more than need this
‘Cause nobody remembers you, Young: you’re Morgan Freeman
Had a nigga tell me, “Since I’m in this tournament, I’m not top-tier”
(*chuckles*) Top-tier?
What about I been here for 10 years and still hot-tier?
What about havin’ a major falling-out with URL and never losin’ my spot-tier?
What about bein’ able to call Smack, P, Beasley, and Cheeko to pick and choose who I’m givin’ this shot-tier!?
Yes, I’m the reason you got here
I made shit pop here when you was not here
Whoo! Lord, tell him!
You thought you was ‘bout to come up here and kill your friend?
Naw, Melly
Thought you’d mess wit’ the Top rhymin’ (Ramen) wit’ no reaction?
You got the wrong cellie
You not even really cut for this
That’s wrong, Nelly
I’m Sincere wit’ the Tommy shootin’ all Belly
Big case for Young: R. Kelly!
My pants? Margiela!
Hands in the pockets, they real warm
Baby .9, one small complication, it’s stillborn
If Bill bored (Billboard), I go off the charts
You a replacement, a substitute for another nigga to talk the talk
Shit, I was tryna bring Magic back, like me and my bitch lost the spark
The fuck you thought!?
I ain’t have no bars and I needed a crowd wit’ me on the screen?
NOME 10, Avocado
I could take you out from workin’ behind the scenes
Aye, Siri, remind me, please
To adjust the lens on Kannon (Canon) by nine degrees
As the clock ticks, I think rash: Lyme disease
Ready to take somethin’ off the top like finder’s fees
Time me, please
(*Bill looks around the room*)
...This shit is weird
I was supposed to battle B Magic, then poof, he disappeared
Skrrt - switchin’ gears, they gave me this nigga here
Who in 10 years never switched his gear
Now, they got you winnin’ clear
I see the predictions here
But you only a star in Chicago, Richard Gere
Aye Verb, Calicoe
They dread how my style went from wavy to different here (hair)
Get prepared
Murder in thе first? I wouldn’t be shocked if I get thе chair
You really think you got classics here?
Boy, you’re dreamin’
You’re not catered for NOME, winter, spring, fall, or Summer Madness
You sure ain’t seasoned
These new people don’t know who you are
You more than need this
‘Cause nobody remembers you, Young: you’re Morgan Freeman
Had a nigga tell me, “Since I’m in this tournament, I’m not top-tier”
(*chuckles*) Top-tier?
What about I been here for 10 years and still hot-tier?
What about havin’ a major falling-out with URL and never losin’ my spot-tier?
What about bein’ able to call Smack, P, Beasley, and Cheeko to pick and choose who I’m givin’ this shot-tier!?
Yes, I’m the reason you got here
I made shit pop here when you was not here
Whoo! Lord, tell him!
You thought you was ‘bout to come up here and kill your friend?
Naw, Melly
Thought you’d mess wit’ the Top rhymin’ (Ramen) wit’ no reaction?
You got the wrong cellie
You not even really cut for this
That’s wrong, Nelly
I’m Sincere wit’ the Tommy shootin’ all Belly
Big case for Young: R. Kelly!
My pants? Margiela!
Hands in the pockets, they real warm
Baby .9, one small complication, it’s stillborn
If Bill bored (Billboard), I go off the charts
You a replacement, a substitute for another nigga to talk the talk
Shit, I was tryna bring Magic back, like me and my bitch lost the spark
The fuck you thought!?
I ain’t have no bars and I needed a crowd wit’ me on the screen?
NOME 10, Avocado
I could take you out from workin’ behind the scenes
Aye, Siri, remind me, please
To adjust the lens on Kannon (Canon) by nine degrees
As the clock ticks, I think rash: Lyme disease
Ready to take somethin’ off the top like finder’s fees
Time me, please
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