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Correct Loaded Lux Vs Charlie Clips Lyrics
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Correct Loaded Lux Vs Charlie Clips
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[Round 1: Loaded Lux] Smack, is you ready? Charlie, is you ready, handsome? Charlie, Charlie, are you real? When the make believers wanna make you a believer In a room full of dream chasers that started chasing the dreamer Oh, this gonna be a nightmare I got to wake you from me, bruh As fake as can be, but I know you ain't gone just stand in this ring To be layin' here beat up My man said, "Charlie comin' to fight." Shit, I would think he would need to As much flack as you got from not being in LA with them sneakers Nah, he ain't gonna be slippin' Well, shit, I ain't gonna play with you neither In fact, I'm gonna say some things And I really could care less how you take to them either Think I'm just showin' up with these Wrestlemania features Smell what I'm cookin'? Nigga, I will rock your eye Lookin' to box the five, and you ain't gotta pay Little Caesars Did y'all know he can walk amongst the tombstone? Tonight, home slice, and this ain't for no pizza You can say I'm a preacher, a Panther, Rich Porter, a YMCA dancer Whatever, they gonna laugh, you entertainin' I just figured: in the age where trigger fingers turn to Twitter fingers, don't sendin' a message take a certain number of characters to explain it? Like how me, myself and I already dangerous but schizophrenic You with a Harlem hustler that will black out With the shotguns on the stages I'll kill you in front of Mom, free of charge And then pay for your whole funeral arrangements Goddamn it, you bet I'm back Chuck, you the one that shoulda suited up for this Nigga, you forever slacks You coulda got prepped for that, it helps to match Do it for your Vines, see where I address you at Look at grand mama boy tied, I'ma go at his neck for that Bow ties, bean pies… yeah, you could rebuttal that Yeah, they say you a good nigga, I fought greater All labor boss, on paper you a 4th grader All you do is take a dope line or a gun bar Then you just reference that with a sports player, you short paper Fat boy, you couldn't get down with me with Rick Ross' trainer Just ‘cause you got tits, brah Don't mean you be thinkin' in broad layers Come on, player, it's in the talk Scratch that, it's in the walk You gotta look at how the bootleg cut If you copy that, this Clips a fraud, picture's off Who you are really in your bars, nigga? ‘Cause I know you for bein' soft, not for flippin' hard Now you this nigga with attitude, just ‘cause Tre chillin' with a cold block don't make him Cube, don't get me wrong Yeah, you a boy in the hood with a job If your man deal heavy I feel worried they kick the door You tell him where the pills buried See, you not the dope boy that you think you are I'm just pokin' holes in him Y'all probably couldn't relate to this Besides, Hollow showed me you wouldn't be good with a business relationship Sike I lied… how you lettin' niggas just take your shit?! What's crazy is if I break up with people ‘cause we didn't get along I know when to pass the baton in this human race we in You can't tell that to a nigga without a car Just him and his T-Mobile, the minute you roll over He tryin' to play you like a sim They was him, all the ex-producers and the managers Plannin' to be in my top-five Fave Friends Then they find out they ain't got drive for the long run That's when they came to sprint, but this a marathon we in The family still here, my whole pack at the thriller Lil' one, my mama, I'm ridin' with a backseat full of killas We on our way to Lenox I wish a funny-ass actin' nigga would make a move But you ain't never been stiller Still I told my dog I can't let this cat shit on the litter Wreck and tangle my circle of life The world is round, you could kill me now How am I gonna flat leave my niggas? Even Realer Live hit my jack late He said, "Yo, man, he just came through the hood with Goodz ramblin', how you manage handle it?" I said, "Chill, he just feelin' you out. It's good, he panickin'." This is what happens when These niggas get creatively famished and can't manage it Their mental feeds be fishin' because they ain't bred for this type of meet, but you could hook up the sandwiches I mean look, you got whatever advantages, could be damages Standin' in your lobby I'm thinkin' how he Put his rounds together, that's a sign That nigga outty, I've been plannin' this I rap circles around a body, nigga, you lucky, it could be bandages My youngin tried to get the hammer in I said, "Wow, that type of time he ain't on, you way off." You talk that hustlin' shit nigga, but bacon the only strip you ate on I don't know why you call yourself Clips Nigga, you got your name wrong I bet the last name he drew on a nigga he had Crayons The fake niggas you gotta pray for I'm not gonna preach to him, he no disciple Just indecisive, you got a right to question what I might do After that last one we had to fight through But here's where I break the cycle, in case you feel delightful That moment Mook hit me I got a bit more insightful I love my people, but some niggas, they just ain't gon' like you You can't give your life to Malcolm read the scripture, hopin' he got the picture But the only one you remember is at the window with the rifle Have faith, ‘cause you in here with the meanest Nigga, and we gonna need you to mean it Lately you come around But you ain't never got three this completed Everybody's DNA structure is different But he not me of the screenin' – I'm genius That gray hoodie Lux who lines vibe smooth, fuels with crime rules Why lose? I'm comin' to win like a typhoon Fine tune, every bar with a gun, high noon In the field raisin' on a nigga like dry prunes [Round 1: Charlie Clips] Summer Madness 5, wow… like where do I even begin? First off I got to salute Hollow For givin' me that lil scratch on the chin Makin' me bleed in our last fight ‘Cause it’s exactly what I needed again ‘Cause I suffer from a disease called try-to-give-a-fucking-titis It’s a disease that makes me not eager to win Now, I’ve been diagnosed since 2012 No nurse or no doctor would even give me a suggestion So I battled rookies and legends Hopin' somebody can help me learn my lesson I play around in every battle But nobody can kill me, "How?" was the question But then I realized it’s not a disease It’s God, and I will no longer play with my blessin' Ah, Beloved, you had the world But after the Calicoe battle it seems like you been gettin' demoted How ironic, you wanted Murda and you got murdered But I don’t want to hear that you wasn’t devoted ‘Cause every battle rapper in this building wanted to be Lux Oh, but never did Charlie, nigga, you know it I tried to take a Hollow out in front of you, Smack What makes you think Clips wanna be Loaded? Are you Muslim or are you Christian? Nigga, you’ve been confused since about ‘83 Yeah, you’re right, you was Rich Porter And then a Black Panther, and in your next battle you may be me Now, when you came up with that slogan “You’re gon’ get this work,” that sent chills down my spine, that shit was crazy, B But the work you give out don’t last that long Nigga, you’re the temp agency You left battle rap and I held us down But y’all quick to welcome him home without a doormat Ayy, what his resume look like? He beat Miles, he beat Cal Who gives a fuck? We don’t condone that You lost to Mook and Hollow O-Red got a better resume than you, nigga And now we know that, so it’s like Fabolous spellin' his name ‘Cause you should be where O at I’m killin' scrap, right now it’s a nigga paralyzed Watchin' the pay-per-view like “Oh, I’m feelin' that.” I conceal a gat, I don’t care how much holmes improvin' I put this hammer to where his ceiling at One look big and the other one sound big That’s Shyne featuring Guerilla Black – bllaa, ba, bap! Blow his socks on his head, it’s lookin' like Chilla hat Yes, dude is back For y’all who don’t understand what I’m sayin' it’s Mr. Google Facts Once again, my flow’s so out of this world I advise you to go get your Google Maps I catch Lux while he runnin' to his wife: Beloved, then use the strap Make him pay before he enter the ride: this shit an Uber app Nigga, I’m super strapped And I’ll spill them all over the stage like a Smack drink Or catch him and his crew gettin' high Then walk in and let the gat brrrring Headshot, blow his brain by his Puma Basically I don’t give a fuck what this cat think The cops will find his Caesar next to some dutchess Welcome to Black Ink What’s up, Beloved? Is you gonna shut the fuck up or not? ‘Cause you’re soft on Lenox but you always act tough up the block I’m at […] with a pump, hittin' his door with a couple of shots This shit a Puff deal: it was especially made to fuck up the locks I’m in his crib lookin' for his niggas ‘Cause I’m about to do him grimy Me and my pump just kickin' it, soundin' like a song from the 90s They like, “Who can I run to?” Lux like, “All y’all get behind me!” What I wanna know is, how do y’all plan to escape If the leader is lookin' tiny? This is for all you motherfuckers that said Clips ain’t nice Right now, Eddie Murphy is callin' Martin like, “This ain’t life.” Tay Roc is watchin' the battle like, “This ain’t light.” And Quentin Miller is tappin' Drake like, “This ain’t right.” I tried to relax, oh, but y’all don’t respect me Until CC buggin', you see me dumpin' Burners on his back, I guess his CD’s buzzin' Everybody gettin' staples, this MAC got a easy button So many straps it look like Ms. Fit and C3 fuckin' What’s up with you, Beloved? What are you gon’ tell the crowd, Beloved? How I wasn’t outside battle rappin' with Tru Mills and ICE? Okay, cool, I can’t lie ‘Cause of my father life my moms kept me inside I played video games and ate some damn pie But when I did come out, I was that nigga And I watched Rex kill you on 8th, I seen this man fry So if you battled on the roof and the loser had to jump Either your ass betted or you can’t die I just want to know what it is Oh, you’re talkin' to me while the crowd’s goin' crazy See, that’s your problem, you don’t know how to work the heckler Stomach shot, paramedics surprised They forgot how to work the stretcher They’re like, “Where are we gon’ take him?” He said “Harlem Hospital givin' beds out, that will work, whatever.” But the hole so big Harlem Hospital and Presbyterian gotta work together I know y’all was scared to bet on Charlie ‘Cause y’all ain’t know what kind of Clips y’all would get today Funeral thoughts, I got a box on my mind You think I’m kiddin', play My brother want to shoot the shit out you But I don’t really need for his SIG to spray You know how many niggas I will smith by myself? This Independence Day I need to talk to you, Beloved, tell the world how you started my career, I mean go ahead and floss, nigga But it don’t matter right now ‘Cause Smack is both of our boss, nigga So you can go ahead with all that bullshit I’d advise you to go and floss, nigga And we ain’t seen your son since the video on BET Let me find out that you’re becomin' a lost nigga [Round 2: Loaded Lux] And now for my second trick You’re the first battle rapper with a 360 deal, nigga I’m not guessin' this, we got references Ever since you let this hairy nigga play J.G. Wentworth I watched when your whole worth went Into a small-structured settlement Eight battles for 50,000 dollars, my nigga? What are you, Mexican? No disrespect if you like hard work or some extra shit But if you’re gonna rap, then rap, nigga Don’t be in blogs actin' like the moves you’re makin' is so executive I’m not impressed with it You sign major-ass deals, but Goodz still gotta help you and drive you to all of your press events And all he got to show for is a bottle with that brown drink Half a gallon Goodz ain’t even got a half a gallon in the tank You know I’m the only battle rapper out here Breakin' the bank, nigga, he don’t like hearin' that Nothin' you kick wavy, nigga I don’t even know why you’re wearin' that These type of niggas, they’re for y’all that like that show on stars Nah, I’m into authentic power Well, in the hour you ain’t gotta act like 50 Cent ain’t enough So disrespect, you’ll allow it How you talkin' principle shit? Well, I never attended Howard But as a student of the game, I know you just can’t claim to be a man and not put on them trousers I watched you gun talk a nigga For three minutes straight, my nigga, bullet showers We just want to know, well Where was the TEC when Big Cheese kept your 750 dollars? You’re startin' to look like a pretty flower, nigga This video game ass nigga Who are you up here puttin' on for? You’re a cornball Wait, we knew this nigga way before y’all Yeah, you moved to 8th, nigga, but you was in the house I never seen somebody put two in a nigga’s scalp Just shootin' off at the mouth Ayy, you’re right, I know what you’re confused about ‘Cause you did work at Presbyterian Hospital as a janitor That figures, I’m used to realignin' you Smack niggas Beasley, I’m gonna get this money Don’t me I got to be glad rappin' with trash niggas The only thing you’ve ever been strapped for was cash, nigga A Harlem nigga with no bread? A Harlem nigga with no bread! Big Bird, you’re a featherweight, don’t hesitate We’re all on the conference call Smack’s tryin' to delegate, the match all extra safe For this pepper stake on a breakfast plate Ass nigga trapped lookin' for his best escape I said bet another K that your man don’t show up on time, Smack But why’s that? I said ‘cause dead niggas always late This nigga scared, the 40 year old virgin Ain’t had as much pressure on a date This what happens when you’re rappin' Chasin' checks at the gate, bettin' against a great Then guessin' at the debates, chess is what I play And if Couture know the game She knows it’s over once a nigga get checked in front of his mate Wait, you thought you was quite a winner But she was on BET, not you, nigga I see who wear the pants in your cypher, sister Charlie, you’re the bitch in the D He the type of nigga act like he don’t type remember But shoutout to my boss bitches wifin' niggas Make sure you hit him with the prenup I came to fight, fat boy, sleeves up I roll up on this nigga like a pants cuff Break his whole dance up, pop lock I want a whole tour, Couture, handsome How long you’re gonna cockblock? It’s time, Smack, why your fake shooter always worried about the shot clock? This stopwatch-ass nigga You probably rather a laptop over them backshots Your flabby bag ain’t built to last You get in, pull the trigger fast That’s black ass, not Black Ops – you’re confused, nigga You Charlie Clip, I’m Fully Loaded You ain’t even a trailer in my movies, snapshot Ain’t no future in frontin', backdrop You’re in here with the main attraction, mascot Yo' lookin' ass wasn’t even good cash up in Ash twat You spent all that time at the slots and can never hit the jackpot Charlie Clips gettin' them chips again Last bet, what happened? Couture said he lost the rent again When the gamblin' man shook up That’s usually when he should pass the dice You sat for like two years without a match to fight Was you in you in? I could care less if Cam gave you cash for flights, unless you have the lights Nigga, you coulda been Channing Tatum in flashy tights Your career wouldn’t take off if you was Magic Mike Oh, this is an embarrassin' night Look at your savior, up here gettin' yo' ass beat, nigga Don’t you ever throw rocks at the sun, you can’t reach it, nigga [Round 2: Charlie Clips] One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish Knick knack, patty whack, give a dog a bone Two thousand, double zero, party oops, out of time My bacon is smelling fine Every time you talk, that’s what we hear We got a Muslim that eat pork, Allah, the end is near Watch how I break this nigga down for half a round And won’t even let the TEC spark If y’all saw my battle against Jones Well, shit, y’all noticed the round where I stretch marks Do you know I actually tie my shoe in a perfect knot So the world wouldn’t see my sneaker slidin'? And I took a trip to Africa Dug deep in the Earth’s surface but couldn’t reap a diamond But oh, he wasn’t bein' honest And Beasley, Smack is not that good at keepin' timin' I know you want him to keep the rhymin' to be the giant But this the part tonight where David have to beat Goliath Ayy, listen, Beloved, I’m goin' back to my Lion Den days The days that made me a beast Where you watched me break the Roc apart Felt like a Dame, Chris, maybe a Neef Oh, they was callin' you Jay-Z unique But you went from Jay-Z to Bleek in maybe a week Ironic how two back-to-back losses Turned you from a Drake to a Meek Yo, yo, yo! Yo, yo! Yo! Can y'all hear me? Uh, hold on Harlem Hospital giving beds out Harlem Hospital giving beds out I saw you on Total Slaughter, it was a total slaughter Oh, that wasn’t the way to compete Mook smoked through a foot, but you were the one tastin' defeat The way you got yo' ass whooped You shoulda sued Eminem, Shady at least Oh, you got a lot of money, that’s the beauty But that's not what make you a beast See, you turned into a money whore, Beloved I could see you on the phone with Beasley now Like, “Oh, I’mma do this for the public Oh, Beasley, put me in the ring with the boy Clips Oh, they’re gon’ love it Oh, but I need to know what’s in the budget 30,000? Ah, that’s just a nugget You know your boy Loaded need to eat I’ma need more chickens just like a bucket Oh, I’m doin' this shit for the love, I ain’t doin' this for the vulture I’m doin' this for me, this thing is for the culture.” Mmm, oh my god, stop fucking lying! “Oh no, I’m serious, like, I do this for my niggas up north Full of that Jack Mack that’s doin' a bid For the little ones in Africa With the flies wrapped around their wrists I’m doin' this for all you people that can’t get in the crib I’m doin' this all for the kids and that’s the way that it is.” Mmm, oh my god, stop fucking lying! You battle rap for the money, Beloved But just keep it a hundred, that’s why this nigga slippin' You think we’re in the same field financially? Okay, y’all, this nigga trippin' Nigga, listen, I know we’re black brothers Both successful, but I’m on a bigger mission Roy Rogers and Popeyes Our skin may look the same, but the chicken different Do y’all remember when I turned to Shang Tsung at NOME 5 And the crowd went crazy, and it even left Hollow a little rattled? We’ll I’m back with the same powers, but now I got one when I can turn into niggas that I ain’t even battle Another 5’9” nigga with a death wish Bakin' his egg with this toast from the side, who want breakfast? I slide up on him, three guns, fuck a dead kick Everything used on sight: that’s Craigslist My bitch will chase him down with them pumps I guess she desperate Y’all came to see Clips get Loaded: I guess that’s Netflix I still pull that piece like Jenga, let that TEC spit And put his block back in their place, oh now that’s Tetris You know what’s up with me, Beloved? If you think this battle’s anything close and you’re watchin' this You must be out your motherfuckin' mind I’m a psycho, I ain’t even got it all in my motherfuckin' mind I’ll run up in your mother’s crib with a knife Like, "Fuck a motherfuckin' 9!" Put this shit to her wrist and cut through your mother fuckin' time I dare these niggas to try to celebrate after this That’s when we crash the party He gon’ be cryin', “Oh, Beloved need another shot I want a rematch with Charlie.” Well, I’ll tell you what, if you survive the pump And it don’t detach your body I go in the arsenal again and make you rematch the shotty [Round 3: Loaded Lux] We’re comin' down to the wire How you help to solve over 30 homicides And ain’t take not one nigga down with a wire? I see where you get your talk game from Apparently, everybody and your mother know Your pops went out like a sucker, nigga At least we agree, we aren’t deceived Fans, y’all know I’ll probably pick at this issue That wasn’t hard to achieve But bet I do it better than every artist you’ve seen As smart as he seem, to think to cut off that part of the ring We just gon’ share that half a square While we wait here and park up the scene ‘Cause this the spot, nigga Where Rex popped off and ain’t accomplish a thing I’m takin' shots, but I’ma stop at every bar in between What Hey Arnold got to Schwarzenegger strong on a machine? Pull up sharp when I come out to rock like Arthur the King You 'bout to pop, I hope you read every comment they leave For every man your mother picked to be a father to breed We know about Nut, your little brother Jiggy Josh is his seed Let’s give it up, see this is what the audience need ‘Cause y’all be stuck, y’all don’t know what Charles to believe But I know Chuck, the one who wear his heart on his sleeves That shit was rough, I’m watchin' you and Hollow How low you’re depictin' Harlem on screen You dissin' friends, then whisperin' Like y’all was a team and that was a part of the scheme I watched you air out a nigga dirty laundry To make sure it get cleaned That’s the same thing your pops when he got indicted tried Talkin' like he fightin' crime Agreement got ripped up when he tried to tell 'em "Sike I lied" But that’s why he got life inside, pardon my steam But Dad makin' us look bad, I can’t honor that, King I don’t know about grandpops, but I know it starts with the genes And DNA got me wishin' we could lift Your Lennox apartment to Queens But wait, that’s still New York, but all that just means Is that the apple don't fall too far from the tree You and yo' punk-ass daddy a couple of chatty patties Actin' catty, “meow” Math was swingin', you was standin' there playin' caddy I thought you was a killer, Charles: Lee Ray I thought Chucky wasn’t no joke, he just think he Deray You might be a DJ way you turn on niggas in the jam you with You switched on Cor and Chambers After you let their man get whipped – damn it, Clips! I know comedians don’t do candid scripts And you’re a funny-ass actin' nigga too But that one don’t stand up shit That ain’t hard to miss, that’s just Charlie Clips: the two-faced ass nigga who got the dimples with the Harvey Dent He get it from his mom and them ‘Cause you know, Pops didn’t raise him, you know She was the gangster on the front line, foot first This could hurt, it look worse Let’s go back in store, she remember Woolworth Jesus was a carpenter And right now this is where he get to comin' out the woodworks Nigga, you’re ‘bout to get this good work This ain’t even a side bar, his mother was a side chick Tell Lisa Ree we could read the lease was up on the fine print But she needed someone to provide rent But why every guy she went to moved around blow? I’ll tell you, ‘cause at the time she was chasin' that paper It wasn’t to put food in any mouths, so You might be thinkin' out loud “ho!” Now, I know his mother, she proud folk But money was rollin' through that number holdin' She was in about to lose count, so After your daddy, she got with your little brother daddy And they got wild close And P Nut was up ‘til the people picked him up And, you know, things change when trial close And the smiles go, I don’t know, coke or they found dope But he wasn’t on track, started runnin' his lips Puttin' names in laps, then smacked right into a milestone The whole town know, even if the crowd don’t That nigga P Nut told on Alpo But look how it come around though It’s no wonder why in your raps You’re always mentionin' the trap, nigga ‘Cause your mother was into the corner chasin' cheese And ended up with some rats, nigga That’s a Snapple top fact "The nerve of a nigga, get a bunch of lies from niggas And try to make it work I got 16 racks, and I’ll give you half of that if you can provide me with paperwork" – that’s what you said, right? I figured that was a ploy to find out where the paperwork is Which woulda been smart ‘Cause you know, you don’t want that to maybe resurface What happens when rehearsin' bein' dangerous Ain’t workin' could lead to hearsin'? See, what happens when niggas rappin' Get caught fakin' in their verses? They say you was nervous I heard when they contacted you to pay it He was playin' like he ain’t had a paper to purchase So let me find out, my nigga, you ain’t had paper to purchase? Don’t mind that, what happened? It either is or it ain’t that, nigga, say that! So you don’t mind that I brought the homie Faybach? I figured you could come and give him his eight stacks in person Don’t act like you ain’t got the money neither, nigga I know what we made off our purchase Get that shit out here, let niggas see what’s happenin'! {INTERLUDE} This is street justice and I can prove it I want to send a special shout out to Farris My man BD, the big homie Lou Simms, and the rest of those that was on that same case that never told, true friends I’m on the phone with Farris, we rappin' He like, "Man, if I woulda only knew then." But here’s his new den number, 2 8 7 0 0 dash 0 5 4 That’s Leon in a Tucson federal prison If you’re listenin', tell them what you’re viewin' How his son said “I ain’t seen my pops in over 20 years…” But that’s ‘cause the last East Coast prison he was in He got his face blew in What you’re doin', nigga, usin' his life for street credibility? Did they open faces and I don't wanna open cases? Nigga, that ain’t you, and you do this only when it benefits him The other times when he rhyme about that shit He’s playin' solely the victim I know you convinced 'em, but I came to expose your wisdom I got a cousin doin' 25 years to life for murder A daddy who sell dope for a livin' But that’s those their commitments, what that got to do with me? I sold my weed, I fought all of my own fights Up moved some coke I pitched in, that’s just it Conscious brother, street nigga I’ve been in both positions and know the difference Enough of holmes who’s listenin' To my storyline, I don’t glorify, I report it wise, told the endin' [Round 3: Charlie Clips] They want me to talk about my pops’ case again? How you told Calicoe when you battled him That he ain’t have half the batter? Last time I told Rex my moms was the gangster in my family So the shit about my pops don’t really matter See, the problem is he fucks up y’all mind Yo, on some G shit, I’ve never been a bitch nigga All my raps I’ma get through Y’all want to call my pops a rat? Your pops is a snitch too! You bitch-ass nigga, and you know what, I ain’t lyin' shit I even keep it a hundred Your father snitched when he told the psychiatrist Oh, you didn’t know that was goin' on But you got a nigga in your section that’s flowin' strong Tell that nigga shut the fuck up when I’m rappin' If he don’t know what’s goin' on What happened? My father is the snitch? Why I’m not the one that’s lookin' mad? These niggas double team me for what Just to come up here and talk about my dad? You pussy, these niggas robbed Mook for his coat Not you, that’s what make me mad Look at this nigga actin' like a fag If it ain’t true, tell them why he mad I'm talkin' about his dad? You know what’s funny about this though? I’ma tell you the rest, his father was a snitch too At the end of the day, I’ve never been jumped I’ve never been punched in my face or robbed He talkin' about my father Now y’all want to say "boo" and scream "fuck Clips"? Oh, I see what’s goin' on, a bunch of y’all is loaded on Lux dick But we gon’ get to the rest of this shit My moms and my grandmother was the gangsters of my family So I just want y’all to imagine that That was a great round you did, but exposin' somethin' about my pops is not battle rap – but this is… A certain battle rapper called my phone and said “We should double team Lux,” and I laughed like “Nigga, say word!” Now, y’all know I’m predictable, right? So guess which battle rapper it was? The nigga Aye Verb The nigga Verb called my phone And said “What’s up, Charlie? I heard you’re goin' against Lux So I’ma need you to be lyrical Borrow my Showtime, bring three rounds if you can I don’t want you on stage lookin' pitiful Read the Bible a hundred times ‘Cause that boy known to get biblical.” And I’m lookin' at the phone the whole time Like, “Nigga! What, you forgot what I did to you?!” This is true story, every time I take a battle serious My opponent dies, come back to life and then they try again It’s like I’m Ghost Rider, Smack the Devil He raised their soul, I make ‘em fry again You Lux in the spiritual And you Rex in the spiritual, it’s time to die again Kylie Jenner, close your eyes ‘Cause I’ma expose this gay tiger in this lion’s den That’s the name of your league, right, nigga? Your baby moms fronted you the money You was broke, ain’t have a set price You was on a low carb diet No wonder you ain’t have your bread right Ironic you’re on URL braggin' But your league couldn’t afford a website You wasn’t even gonna drop my footage I woulda never came out if it wasn’t for Head ICE But I can’t salute ICE just yet That’s my homie, but that nigga there is deceivin' They both on 8th, I mean they’re liars That’s why nobody believe ‘em What are you comin' at ICE for? ‘Cause he dissed me in the interview for no reason So why show Wolf love if love left the Wolves for Cleveland? Charlie Clips bein' pussy? C’mon y’all, imagine that You broke down my father past But what the fuck does that got to do with battle rap? You know what, let me get back to this ‘Cause truth be told, I still fuck with ICE He set Lux up for me like, “Kill him, Beloved, you too fuckin' nice!” You wore that Money Mitch outfit against Mook At first I was confused, it had me fuckin' tight But now I remembered in Paid In Full Money Mitch was set up by Uncle ICE You see how God put this together, Beloved, ‘cause ever since Lion’s Den, you done prepared like you ain’t hear the kid Your side bitch pregnant, your wifey home Translation: that means you fear the kid You watched me try angles on Roc: that’s a pyramid You slept on me and woke up in a funeral: we’re in Phara crib Hollow broke this nigga’s style down I can’t lie, that nigga Mook amaze me They both broke down how you say a bunch of nothin' But y’all be goin' super crazy It’s like the building look good on the outside But the inside is nasty because the super lazy Russell Wilson: let’s just say I see errors in your future, baby And I’ma break one down for y’all ‘Cause the nigga AZ got a song featuring Nas And the song is called “Everything Is Everything” And what do y’all know to my surprise The nigga Nas said a line, he said, “Death before dishonor That’s somethin' that we should practice And don’t play with love ‘cause love is evil spelled backwards” Wait a goddamn minute, Beloved You turned "love" into "live" and incorporated that in your schemes So they can scream, you went to sleep listenin' to Nas Woke up and stole his dream? You got a picture with AZ on your Instagram Be a fan, not a fiend! Look at me, King! Stop stealin' all your best lyrics from out of Queens! This is exactly what I mean, “Is it evil to live backwards?” I don’t know, but that shit was flame, my nigga But love, live, life back—that shit is all the same, my nigga You wanna go backwards? I got y’all, no lie, Hitman I remember them cold nights that I was blessed Thinkin' about puttin' these two Deserts in his mouth ‘Cause I was stressed I said I wanna show him where this Beretta is Peep how I dog God and his relatives Puttin' them in Hell, in the same place that the Devil lived For anybody in the crowd that go to church I apologize for sayin' the word “devil” But no matter how you flip the shit, this nigga is not on my level Ain’t nothin' backwards about Charlie Especially the way that I grip up He’s my student and I got to help my pupils when they slip up I got the mind of a Martin Luther Look at me, King, you should be proud of me And I shall overcome on your girl lips while she’s mouthin' me I had a dream that all these people In the front row was comin' out for me And how ironic they’re watchin' me lose my mind from the balcony
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