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Correct Conceited Vs B Magic Lyrics
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Correct Conceited Vs B Magic
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[Round 1: B Magic] You finally stopped duckin', well let's get straight to work I grab the tools, 'bout to act a fool like it's April 1st Fifth'll blow, lift your soul, this is no day in church Sex on the beach: this bitch gon' get laid in dirt Listen up, Reggie, I hop up out the Cavalier, them shots flame Bandana on me with the 30-30: I'm John Wayne Conceited gon' catch every shell it contain Then I'm runnin' back to the Cavalier: LeBron James He thinkin' he sick, now that's a hypochondriac Thinkin' he sick? Don't give a fuck how hyper Con react I say I buck the machine, I bet he changed: that's a laundromat Steel peel, somethin' ill will hit his Pontiac Am I the meanest? Sho nough, well let's convers I heard a Rone dissin' Con verse, he kiss a Converse He'll be puffy tryna dance with me: Fonzworth 9 burst, P.O. nigga: I'm makin' Con work I'm never scared, it's B Magic with this bone crusher Fuck the ambulance, you might as well call a ghostbuster When this 4 touch ya; I'm tellin' you good You'll see a crazy K if you don't get your tail from the hood It's B Magic, the 4 holder, I'm more doper Don't make me call up the war soldiers, the war's over Ain't nothin' good about me reachin' in that Toyota See, Con dough will get tooken: that's a foreclosure Your whole name say I wanna be defeated What kind of straight nigga say, "I wanna be Conceited"? I'm heated and strapped, slid in with the crew I done broke more niggas down than Hidden Colors 2 How you want it? Say it and I'll kill that nigga I'll slap the shit out of this Kevin Hart built-ass nigga See, I don't feel that nigga, this K shine, you can zip him up Don't smoke Reggie, but somethin' blunt will spill his guts Turn up, from where they movin', lootin' and shootin' that boy St. Louis truest, you seen the news and we shootin' them toys Give me room and I'm movin' on you and your unit of yours To keep the beef fresh I brought somethin' aluminum for you My flow's sicker, you talkin' like you dumpin', shoot some Walberg and Denzel, nigga: I brought two guns So do somethin', don't say I ain't tell him I'll stick him up with the Dillinger like Baby Face Nelson I am here, B Magic versus Tevin Campbell—can we talk? Catch bullets, that's what the 80 for: Randy Moss Back in my arms again, I am the boss I will survive 'til we meet again like Diana Ross Google that, your snitch ass, that shit made up Kevin Gates: your bitch ass'll get ate up For nonbelievers who thinkin' I won't get you killed Just take it from me, you'll get the steel I walk up on him like, make the right move Thirty thou in thirty minutes or I'ma take your life, fool He said, "Haaah?", I buck the 40 on him, he like alright, cool Now that's progressive after I pull the Name Your Price tool [Round 1: Conceited] Yo, it's what y'all been waitin' for Conceited vers' B Magic, this is a homi' I'm the one that taught this kid how to drop his shit Made him get on the potty Y'all done finally put the Karate Kid against Mr. Miyagi But since y'all think Magic's worth it I'ma be a plastic surgeon, ‘cause I'm fixin' a body Nigga, you only rep the blue 'Til the death of you when it's beneficial This nigga want to be very Crip 'til I leave him very crippled Them real locs run up on him You see a flag get dropped without a ref and whistle So don't say that color's in your veins And your Crippin' is dead official ‘Cause we all say you like Beyoncé We don't believe that blue was ever in you Nigga, you don't get the pistol or be dumpin' out the strap You just runnin' out your trap How is your name Magic And you still ain't pullin' nothin' out the cap? Nigga, I'm comin' with the gat At the spur of the moment, that nose is longer I'll put that Ginobili on ya I took the heat out like Tony Parker And a hollow killed yo' ass like Total Slaughter It ain't no secret, faggot, you know I'm harder My style's way better Your style's too plain in the building like the Trade Center Everybody can get these TEC's: it's like a chain letter You gon' see one arm pop: Swave Sevah For the smallest problems, let hollows from the K stretch ya You can get hit by a tip over somethin' tiny like Mayweather Y'all know this nigga's B Magic, Black Magic, June, that's real rap But this nigga's real name is Jerry Douglas That's not a punchline, that's real facts Oh what, you thought that I didn't know? Infrareds on top of hammers, beams with the scope You gonna see a bunch of ratchets And rednecks on Jerry like The Springer Show Twin guns, I fill drums and you lift them both I'm the type to raise up 2 black 4's to niggas like Different Strokes Nigga, I will hit your folks when I'm sprayin' Your whole family gettin' the clip like the Wayans I'll even go to black church With a pastor, ratchet, the deacon be singin' "Let us pray! Bow your heads, and we Amen!" Slow it down! I just dissed you! I said pass the ratchet, the D can be singin' Let us spray, we'll bow your heads when we aimin' What?! What?! Nigga, I ain't playin' What you gonna do when that gat bursts slugs? Until you see that ratchet show like Bad Girls Club Nigga, you gonna run to the crib, you ain't even sorta hard Talkin' that jazz, I'll bring the shell to where you live like 40 Barrs The reason you only makin' racket over the net like a tennis ball Is because my style is somethin' Black jack without a deck of cards I mean nigga, you stole my setups down to the way I say every bar That's why nobody will ever know who the hell you are How does it feel to steal everything like Aladdin And it still didn't get you far? So learn how to be your own fuckin' man, and man up, nigga! I bet you won't swear to it and put your right hand up, nigga That's how we know watchin' Seinfeld The only time we'll see Jerry be a stand-up nigga, faggot! I showed you how to do a battle with straight punches through Pay attention, I'm just teachin' June: that's summer school But he gon' act like he been rappin' like that And nothin' was the same Little shorty, stop, you like 40 Glocc You ain't bring no punches to the game, nigga. HANH?! [Round 2: B Magic] You about to witness bars more than Nine-Lifers and nine cyphers You couldn't hang with that Surf ninja: Rob Schneider You wouldn't be fuckin' with the kid: that's the Pied Piper See, this Mitch'll get smoked like Mekhi Phifer My nigga, I do the do: I'm a LiveWire You'll get confronted with the hawk: I'm Rod Piper He'll lift in this bitch: that's not stilettos A big shell stick to his back: Donatello I'm beast mode, the heat holder, I C4 ya The street poet, I speak sonnet, decode it R.I.P., Conceited gon' be leakin' with the deceased odor Have a nigga from New York under cover: Malik Yoba Call a crime lab, I'm killin' me a motherfucker Take the strap from this nigga like, "This 9 mine!" Then kill him with his own shit: I'm John John You'll see Magic ring on him like Don Juan Strap under my Sean John, you gon' get it bad ‘Cause if he by these new pumps he'll be in the bag My advice, buck a pistol and shoot ‘Cause we can fight steel with steel like Bishop in Juice Bitch, tuck your tail, better split like the percolator move Or your lights'll get knocked out like the circuit breaker loose If you buggin' you'll get sprayed, I exterminated groups Metal talkin', Con'll run like Terminator 2 My bars vicious, is y'all with it? ‘Cause the TEC'll blam I'm from a place where they killed Mike, you should never land I'm hot, dog, if y'all grillin', you better scram I pop corns if anybody in Con's session stand Get your bars up, Mick Foley with this damn 9 Why show a dude love if he ain't half of the man, Con? A step away from blowin' up, ‘cause if I land mine I'm tryna murk niggas, you the first dippin' like Cam'ron Tell 'em I'm the truth, put steel into his roof Indiana game if they sayin' Reggie mill'll shoot Don't get it twisted, you'll get boxed: Duncan Pinderhughes Listen, go to the whip after makin' the car crash Screamin', "Fuck Con!", pullin' Reggie out the car dash Gettin' y'all thrashed, whip y'all ass, I'll bust a slug A chrome Desi'll roast Reggie like Buddy Love R.I.P. – I'm killin' this shit Testifyin' is the only time he liftin' the fifth This young gun rock a fella, you ain't gettin' the drift? That mean you hear a MAC, bitch, a milli'll spit Who fuckin' with me? Nigga, not you, for damn sure What, you gonna go and get the blicky? Clap and pop it? Or maybe I should split like a banana, is that an option? Nigga, you punchin' without landin': you shadowboxin' I give Reggie the 7: that's a convict Then give him the 4 plus the nickel for that nonsense This 47 get to safety when I palm this My patriot's buckin' near your bronco: I'm John Lynch I'm from where the Lou is, ain't nothin' fairer, Con You don't wanna box for real, look in the mirror, Con Bird nigga, if the Eagle actin' foul, Con Comin' masked up with the hammer, you will think I'm Shao Kahn [Round 2: Conceited] Y'all know how this shit go I told him once, this mothafucka scared I'm from the mothafuckin' Lou, that's how this mothafucka play it You beat up Fox? You heard what this mothafucka said? You got scooped up and slammed on yo' mothafuckin' head! I thought I was gonna see "It's B motherfuckin' Magic, the nigga that be dumpin' them." Instead you was holdin' onto Fox, lookin' like you huggin' him Nigga, you didn't throw one swing When you did you started tumblin' You do all these punches in your battles Why you ain't throw no punches then? I couldn't believe you got your ass whooped like that With a bunch of guys around you You was swingin' like this, like it was a buncha flies around you Then this nigga was beggin' for help, but Suge's ass wouldn't Fox had you choked out, you was like… You know how like when you get that good-ass whoopin'? Then you choked against Rum Nitty, choked against Big T I thought, "When is this gonna stop and end?" In his battles, he be chokin' so much I thought he was fightin' Fox again I'm droppin' him, he'll be scared of seein' that 45 like he middle age Bring niggas to his crib like I'm in real estate Then run in airin' like a had a busy day I already told you like Triple Eight I'll take the three out: that's a triple play It's in my pedigree to put two caps by his head like Triple H Isn't it ironic it's gonna be mournin' when he get a wake? I'll show up and put a cap on that box like Minute Maid I'll get the MAC's out like I'm liftin' weights You couldn't be next to Con if you were a prison mate Only thing you ever put the mill on was a dinner plate And I'm just keepin' it on the real like fishing bait But since you're actin' the way your bitch do I'll weave with extensions, bangs are gettin' sprayed I'll get the TEC's to rise here to make Jerry curl when a finger wave This nigga stay livin' off me, he a parasite How y'all comparin' us when he ain't as half as nice? ‘Cause in his battles, most of his punches don't land It's like the Dizaster fight That's ‘cause you throw a zillion wack-ass punchlines You don't care if they dumb or not So how y'all say he's so cold when his name is June So we know only some are hot? Nigga, I'll up your guap I'ma take dirty money no matter where your faith at Did he know I got one twelve and a MAC? Thinkin' you a bad boy, it should be no biggie for you to take that Your whole team can get a cap like a Brave's hat After I put the mill on him like a placemat Nigga, I'll dump and pile the cans like Ajax This little toy that's hot will be on him: that's a race track ‘Cause I'm the type to make the steel ring like a cage match For all that rappin' them candy bars, I'm loadin' up every shell It'll take nothin' but a finger to put it all in this nigga: that's caramel Your ride can keep gettin' a round: that's a carousel For anything that Black said Take out Black head, that's clear as hell And I bet you that'll make B leave like a fairy tale Mr. Black Magic, I'll send him straight to hell if I cock the thing I pack 12 and keep a big 10 like college teams After a round you goin' to the corner: that's a boxing ring You got destroyed by Charron and Real Deal, this is not a dream Them white boys beat you with bars on cam Nigga, you Rodney King Honestly, when them hammers are spittin' You better run, kid, when that can get to grippin' Because that bitch dump and bow like Angela Simmons [Round 3: B Magic] Line his circle up, I put this 4 up to Con neck All his family reunion like, "Where Con at?" Clear the building after I make a call: that's a bomb threat Con, check, I shoot every tattoo off of Con chest "Conceited"? You look more like a snitch, what about "Con-fess"? You a bitch nigga that hang with bitch niggas without a doubt My Brooklyn niggas said The first time they seen you was on Wild 'N Out Who wildin' out? Magic palmin' the biscuit Every motherfucker rollin' behind Con is gon' feel it Got a pine box in the cemetery, Con should go visit This bitch is fucked behind these bars: conjugal visit Yo, step it up, St. Louis, a.k.a. the new Afghan Keep the ratchet on me in the club like a lap dance You don't wanna see me, you a coward It's gon' be a long ride so hold on like Mimi in the shower False bitch, think I won't smack you, I'll hem him up Ike Turner: St. Louis niggas been slappin' bitches up Fuck the guns, we can box and all that And I kill Con, feelin' like Spock from Star Trek Give me space, is it my lyrics is just better, Con? Got a question, what's with the spiky shoes and the leather, Con? You wear leather pants with zippers on… never mind This TEC a 9 and buckle your cap like a leprechaun Ain't no love in hip hop, and that's a fact: Joseline I'm swingin' where a flock of bitches at, want a meal? You will eat a shell, shit'll crack For the bread, I'll bury those niggas, it's a wrap Can you dig it? Shit, I might as well let a Glock touch ya Got all types of clips in store just to block busters A west-sider with this green on me All on the east side high with this lean on me I say, "Fuck you!" — yeah I think Con rappin' is borin' You'll get clapped for performin' What you know about the smack and the dormin? You rap, but what gat are you actually palmin'? I'm in the dump with the metal like the statue of Jordan But you be dumpin'? Nigga, your name light in the streets I got a wild style, and Con don't like to get beat You hypin' the beast, bullets comin' out the can doin' him Just don't let it go to your head like Brand Nubian Stake out at your car with the 40 on my waist He walk in the parking lot, leavin', the party finna shake Bad Boys 2, you know when Marcus daughter finna date? I meet Reggie at the door and put a 40 in his face But I'm supposed to believe you dumpin' that TEC Well, you was about to sit up on another man's neck That's gay, whoever thought of it a fag, yes But who's gayer? The nigga who heard it and said yes Who is it? It's B Magic, motherfucker, the show arrived Turnin' y'all schemers into all of y'all dreamers Pull up with heaters, all in y'all thinkers Passin' them out on stage like August Alsina I told him once, this mothafucka scared I'm from the mothafuckin' Lou, this how a mothafucka play it Beat me? Can you believe what this mothafucka said? You musta slipped, fell and bumped yo' mothafuckin' head [Round 3: Conceited] Yo, when I show up at niggas' pad drawn it's not Pictionary I got a gun that's so big… Fuck a magazine, that shit take dictionaries I got your bitch on my private like we in the military And I'm dead goin' deep in that box like I'm in the cemetery If you gettin' away, I be gettin' a gauge like I'm gettin' married Dump and then skirt with the pump like a secretary I will tell all of my niggas to lift the semi As soon as I scream "Buck it!" bullets woulda been in Jerry So why would I ever worry about his simple raps? No URL, but you can get this MAC That means I got the 10 for you like Reynolds Wrap So stop the chitty chat, nigga, you don't lift the strap And got guns slingin', you got none singin' like Sister Act So you like a bottle of patron, ‘cause you wouldn't lick a cap I figured that anybody who said he won or lost I'll call them awesome liars I mean you thought you were gonna beat me In this battle and be brought up higher? Nigga, you burn so much trees it'll be Smokey the Bear He'll come out when there's a forest fire Slow it down! I just dissed you! I said It'll be smokey, the barrel come out and point when the 4 is fired This nigga's always tryin', but he ain't even kinda scary You can get ate behind bars: that's commissary Nigga, make your own style Stop lookin' for the shortcut, bitch: Halle Berry Nigga, you damn right, I watch cartoons So? I don't care what whoever think Magic School Bus, Tom & Jerry… Slow it down! I just dissed you! I said whoever think Magic's cool, bust a Tom in Jerry This is somethin' that's very crazy, it's somethin' I got to mention I don't know if y'all know his fatass girlfriend Latasha Simpson Don't try to tell me, "She ain't fat, she got a fat ass," nigga No, she is a fatass, nigga, and she looks like a fatass nigga The worst part is this nigga's married her She got two twins that's not even his Don't you get it, little nigga? That means some other cat did more shit to that box than kitty litter You met them children when they turned four though You don't get the picture? It's not smart, guy To raise up twins that are not yours like Sister, Sister Now, look look… Daddy Daycare, Captain Save-a-Ho This nigga gettin' mad, he wanna grip the blicker He wanna cock and peel Nigga, you shootin' it like you being a stepfather Even those kids know you don't pop for real But if you get close, I'm like a klepto, because I got the steel Paramedics gonna have to patch things up like Dr. Phil Nickel-plated mag, penny-plated bullets, you'll get shot and killed Like David Blaine, thinkin' you street Magic, I'll show you how that copper feel On the real, I've had enough of it I'ma pull Magic card no matter how hard you shuffle it Because it's nothin' but lies in your delivery you feed us June know he on some other shit Yo, every nigga you bring with you can get sniped off I got the stick under arm for any man sent, that's right, God Shout-out to you even makin' it on Summer Madness But compared to me, you got light bars This is Uno, why'd y'all think this would be a draw for When I'm the reason it's a wild card? Your whole team can hop in the bag: that's a sack race You gonna see a lot of big shots like he's backstage Nigga, you can't hold the SIG like an ashtray I got two black 8's And these'll be on the Magic like when Shaq played The only person you ever put in work with was a classmate When real Crips see you, they see food and take this crab cake So I don't want to hear nothin' how your MAC spray It's like them old-ass plays We can see them bodies you make up just by lookin' at Black face HANH?!
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