[Round 1: T-Top + JC]
I said, Smack said, "Top, you got Julian and his hooligans
He wild on Rum Nitty, son, and he ready to act a fool again"
You know what he gon' do, right?
Have his little-ass body wavin' all of them tools again
Or pop, lock, and drop it - depend on what kind of mood he in
I don't like him
If a pro test (protest) and this don't work, I'm gon' strike him
Or I stick two knives in his head: we goin' Viking
Yeah, I heard you be around Street Fighters: you know Bison
But the first round sittin' him down: we know Tyson!
Nah, nah, I'm Mayweather, way better
But the poise is different
You think your punches land in the building, until they score 'em different
You want a foe I want a four
Bitch, we order different
Styrofoam vers' a silencer, 'cause we pour it different!
The aura different
I ain't feelin' ya games
You play poker, I play poke 'em: this a serious game
So when he rap now, they saying his delivery changed
'Cause when I caught him in the liver, he changed
Nigga, what you know about duckin' the Alphabet Boys wit' a throwaway cake
But still preparing yourself for your go-away date?
Felony or misdemeanor? I don't know what they say
Dot on his head, or should I catch the lower case, J?
And in case we speaking on a radio show
Shit, I was busy making coke moves
Only cooking over the stove, nigga: I'm old-school
They tried to get me to indict myself, but it ain't go smooth
I'm talking Fed case and Flex place
Let's just say I choked up in both rooms!
We know dude!
He ain't in the ghetto with the bullies
He was Chilla back then: we liked you better as a rookie!
You'll never get Lux, and I'm just tellin' him what's goody
Trey to his head: at least he gettin' mellow wit' the hoodie!
Nigga, what the fuck you gon' teach me, homie!?
Bitch, I'm the teacher
You look like the nigga we stuffed under the bleachers
He's walking in his hotel lobby
If I see ya, they'll find a Midwest bitch in the freezer: Kenneka!
Your best friend watchin' you die: Monifah!
Bald heads takin' the baby: Khalifa!
Smoke goin' straight to the head: sativa!
I came here to spread JC like a preacher, nigga!
And speaking of Jesus, didn't they say he stopped gambling, cuttin' off all our chicken?
He stopped pimpin', when we was just fucking off with our women?
They said we can't even wear Jesus pieces, 'cause he don't want us worshiping no other image
It's a fact: JC been hatin' on hustlers since the beginning!
You been winnin'? Well, look who you been battlin', bro
They ain't even like yo' ass three-and-a-half battles ago!
Now you want Lux?
What make you think you gon' battle the GOAT?
After they talk about how the Bear had yo' ass on the ropes
His mans wit' him, that's cool, I'm stabbin' ‘em both
And move the knives around in circles like I'm paddlin' boats
Your wifey, head shot while she relaxin' in bed
Your daughter run? "Pow! Pow!" to the back of her leg
I bet your son act different wit' a Mac to his head
This life insurance...it's takin' care of the family right after you dead, nigga!
"I'm the best in the WORLD!"
Facts!
Well, tonight, you gotta match what you said
'Cause we been waitin'...it's 'bout time JC came back from the dead
My grandma told me you was comin'...yeah, that's what she said
But she ain't tell me he was 5'2", clappin' the lead
A Vice Lord, wit' a bandanna wrapped on his leg
I thought Jesus ran with Disciples...ain't that what we read!?
He set-switching, and I heard he was a rat for the Feds
That died last week from shit that Illmaculate said
Well, he gon' memorize this next round when I'm blastin' the lead
BOW...it's gon' make him spit it out, or he wrappin' his head, nigga!
And after you dead, tell the clique that I'ma find y'all
The stick knock 'em down in order: we playin' 9-ball
When I put the deuce to his chest like John Wall
He gon' have a seizure up in the ring like Scott Hall
Aye, Scott Hall! Chico! Stay in your home!
I almost put the razor's edge on Razor Ramon!
And I ain't come here to beat JC, I came to over-win
They say he won his last 9 rounds...well, let's go for 10
Concrete, nigga
I said, Smack said, "Top, you got Julian and his hooligans
He wild on Rum Nitty, son, and he ready to act a fool again"
You know what he gon' do, right?
Have his little-ass body wavin' all of them tools again
Or pop, lock, and drop it - depend on what kind of mood he in
I don't like him
If a pro test (protest) and this don't work, I'm gon' strike him
Or I stick two knives in his head: we goin' Viking
Yeah, I heard you be around Street Fighters: you know Bison
But the first round sittin' him down: we know Tyson!
Nah, nah, I'm Mayweather, way better
But the poise is different
You think your punches land in the building, until they score 'em different
You want a foe I want a four
Bitch, we order different
Styrofoam vers' a silencer, 'cause we pour it different!
The aura different
I ain't feelin' ya games
You play poker, I play poke 'em: this a serious game
So when he rap now, they saying his delivery changed
'Cause when I caught him in the liver, he changed
Nigga, what you know about duckin' the Alphabet Boys wit' a throwaway cake
But still preparing yourself for your go-away date?
Felony or misdemeanor? I don't know what they say
Dot on his head, or should I catch the lower case, J?
And in case we speaking on a radio show
Shit, I was busy making coke moves
Only cooking over the stove, nigga: I'm old-school
They tried to get me to indict myself, but it ain't go smooth
I'm talking Fed case and Flex place
Let's just say I choked up in both rooms!
We know dude!
He ain't in the ghetto with the bullies
He was Chilla back then: we liked you better as a rookie!
You'll never get Lux, and I'm just tellin' him what's goody
Trey to his head: at least he gettin' mellow wit' the hoodie!
Nigga, what the fuck you gon' teach me, homie!?
Bitch, I'm the teacher
You look like the nigga we stuffed under the bleachers
He's walking in his hotel lobby
If I see ya, they'll find a Midwest bitch in the freezer: Kenneka!
Your best friend watchin' you die: Monifah!
Bald heads takin' the baby: Khalifa!
Smoke goin' straight to the head: sativa!
I came here to spread JC like a preacher, nigga!
And speaking of Jesus, didn't they say he stopped gambling, cuttin' off all our chicken?
He stopped pimpin', when we was just fucking off with our women?
They said we can't even wear Jesus pieces, 'cause he don't want us worshiping no other image
It's a fact: JC been hatin' on hustlers since the beginning!
You been winnin'? Well, look who you been battlin', bro
They ain't even like yo' ass three-and-a-half battles ago!
Now you want Lux?
What make you think you gon' battle the GOAT?
After they talk about how the Bear had yo' ass on the ropes
His mans wit' him, that's cool, I'm stabbin' ‘em both
And move the knives around in circles like I'm paddlin' boats
Your wifey, head shot while she relaxin' in bed
Your daughter run? "Pow! Pow!" to the back of her leg
I bet your son act different wit' a Mac to his head
This life insurance...it's takin' care of the family right after you dead, nigga!
"I'm the best in the WORLD!"
Facts!
Well, tonight, you gotta match what you said
'Cause we been waitin'...it's 'bout time JC came back from the dead
My grandma told me you was comin'...yeah, that's what she said
But she ain't tell me he was 5'2", clappin' the lead
A Vice Lord, wit' a bandanna wrapped on his leg
I thought Jesus ran with Disciples...ain't that what we read!?
He set-switching, and I heard he was a rat for the Feds
That died last week from shit that Illmaculate said
Well, he gon' memorize this next round when I'm blastin' the lead
BOW...it's gon' make him spit it out, or he wrappin' his head, nigga!
And after you dead, tell the clique that I'ma find y'all
The stick knock 'em down in order: we playin' 9-ball
When I put the deuce to his chest like John Wall
He gon' have a seizure up in the ring like Scott Hall
Aye, Scott Hall! Chico! Stay in your home!
I almost put the razor's edge on Razor Ramon!
And I ain't come here to beat JC, I came to over-win
They say he won his last 9 rounds...well, let's go for 10
Concrete, nigga
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