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Correct Charlie Clips Vs Tay Roc (2014) Lyrics
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Correct Charlie Clips Vs Tay Roc (2014)
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[Round 1: Tay Roc] For six years, all I've heard is you murdered me I ain't make a sound Lux set it up for two minutes but knew you had six minute rounds That there is true I ain't here to complain because I missed the shot Real niggas know when you miss, you spin the block I kick in your door without a second thought, I'm like, "Who first?" I will R.I.P. a pussy: that's a new birth I do work, I will buck your neck, give you two smirks I ain't see a nigga choke and die like that since Tsu Surf Lead pop, I doubt that I miss a headshot Like if O was down with the Mobb, that's a red dot The MAC will leave a piece of your apple on a desktop Bird, snake, sleep with the fishes: that's a pet shop Charlie, the pistol is long, my temper's short enough My bars cold, hot-headed nigga, but I'm just warmin' up Ayy, you know how an abandoned house be boarded up? I pay my shooter a band, then your house be boarded up You doin' what? I look at DNA like, "Whore, what up?" He crack a slick, I crack his shit, you help that boy get up Toy with us, I'll pop up in Harlem, you'll take a nap, G I'll hit Charlie in his windgate with these MAC's, b Light bars! I've been waitin' to send your soul to Christ Charlie gon' see clips singin' like karaoke night You know I'm nice, say somethin' my bros don't like My niggas start randomly spittin', but this ain't open mic That nigga Roc don't care for niggas Get striked for gettin' bold with the bull, I ain't sparin' niggas This the Danger Zone, we airin' niggas I ain't here for a tie, L, just a W — them my Maryland niggas Peep, I'm the king of my state, and I don't share with niggas Never been the one to duck, I'm more like a bear to niggas Step in this ring, I've been darin' niggas You winnin' this battle? That's like tryna take Roc's paper with a pair of scissors Stupid-ass! Think he a rider until he carsick Cops gon' find the insides of Charlie on his carpet It'll be grocery bag, that's what this market… I said, it'll be gross, sure he bagged, that's what this mark get Fuck you! This rematch unnecessary Who's the legend? Beatin' me is what made you legendary Charlie get hit with the first and then the secondary Then DNA get the business like it's hereditary Shout-out to the PG's, but I ain't a new guy For example, you must be high of that snow that you buy Mister thinkin' he wavy until I have him in a new tie Hop out that Audi, "Boom!" — then make him woo side This shit easy, just peep me! Our first battle? Ike Turner in the back of the limo: I let a bitch beat me When my pockets low I get greasy I swear to God I'm whippin' out if anybody on the strip tease me All bars, I'ma get mine off Throwin' bullets like Brady, try to pick mine off You can keep thinkin' this slim guy soft I leave you in a state of shock when I clap nine and send five north You know, that interstate 95 north, nigga, this battle simple Blindside him with a Louisville: that's a shattered temple When I hit his mouth with a hatchet, it won't be accidental I said, I'll hit his mouth with a hatchet: I'll axe his dental I trapped you into a box, nigga, you gone You don't attempt to murder a killer, fuck is you doin'? Paramedics'll get you hauled if you don't move on I'll throw a bullet in ya window and hit your new born Crack slick like it's somethin' you niggas want That pump slump him by the 2's, I dump if you niggas front Niggas talkin' about my battle with Charlie — I'm like, "So what?" Ever since I took an L I've been fuckin' these niggas up Light Bars [Round 1: Charlie Clips] My grandmoms had the nerve to call my phone Like, "Baby, word on the streets is you straight hot But that boy got a vendetta against you I might gotta put my money on Tay Roc." I'm like, "Grandma, what the hell?!" She like, "Oh Lord, the boy cursin' now." She said, "You got a third this time?" I'm like, "Yes, grandma, I'm rehearsin' now What do you want?" She said, "Nothing, just show Tay Roc you in a different class And don't play around this time ‘Cause that's how B Magic almost whipped yo' ass." I said, "B Magic?" — she said, "Mhmm." I said, "Rounds one and two, I was lookin' flamable But the third…" She said, "Exactly, it shouldn't have been debatable Now when you battle Roc I want you to throw a left, add a good-ass hook in Oh, and by the way, I made yams, peach cobbler and some… Now there's only one way You could get some of grandma's good-ass cooking." I said, "How's that?" She said, "Give Tay Roc that good-ass whoopin'!" I ran up on Roc like, "What's poppin', pussy? What you barkin' for?" He ran in his pop's crib, I shot through the apartment door Big Roc jumped in the way, I let the Larkin roar He moved, then the bullets tore through little Roc: that's Arkansas I'm only five bars in and y'all already want me to bring it back Like what if I'm in Roc's pop's crib with no strap to make it clap I woulda grabbed Roc face In front of his familiy, started shavin' that So R kin saw little Roc get the razor back Nah, that's not a reach, if I reach that's ‘cause I hate dawg Decision, should I kick or push him? That's Lupe with a skateboard Roc, if we fight, good night, I let that 8 roar You'll die before the hook get delivered: that's Nate Dogg You call yourself the Rocadile, that's a BS name I should put this beam in the back of your 3X, bang! The red light remove your disc: that's a PS game The chopstick spread your noodle: that's PF Changs I wanna introduce you to my man .50 cal But nah, I got another plan Deuce deuce tucked in the boot, that's my other man I call 'em Young Buck ‘cause he small, I keep that gun in hand Let Young Buck perform with the 50: that's Summer Jam When I heard you joined Dot Mob I was thinkin' like, "Yo, that's so absurd." I thought about callin' Mook Like, "Murda, since when y'all brought in herbs?" Roc, I could have niggas in Dot Mob jump you Like if I throw the word You'll see dot after dot on his face: that's Rosenberg I'm too raw with all these lines, my nigga Like if that Kannon fire Yikes! More dots on his face, oh now he Danny Myers Let me rebuttal your Proven Ground scheme, Roc ‘Cause trust me, they got a lot of room When it steams inside the jeans I reach more than Ah Di Boom I let it Sonic boom, bring it across your wide jaw We could fight, but your punches too slow, you like Ty Law You could be 8'9" or 5'4", I shoot, this TEC body ya You'll lose DNA from every round: that's Prez Mafia You said you peeled niggas wigs back when your Glock air, scrap? Nigga, please! Your Young Kannon ain't make a top tier gat ‘Cause you's a Proven mid-tier Ground nigga, Roc And honestly, that's sad to know I keep a gun, you don't got your semi? You better tag in SCO You confused, ‘cause how your name Roc but you be baggin' dro? Ask Smack, I got an ill will for baggin' snow So come to my block, Roc Where we chop rock and move them real crills Sellin' bags of white, look like I'm movin' bags of Real Deal I give niggas the real feel I could let bullets out that MAC spread Oh, it's ironic... how squeezin' on a long nose Could help me take out a black head Say my name in vein, these two arms'll be shootin' up To hit your back head That was dope, ‘cause I left Roc with a cracked head Listen, Roc, this the third mid-tier nigga I gave a shot to, right? I'm tryin' to give all y'all fame Proving Ground, I love y'all niggas Sike! I lied, I think all y'all lame If y'all wanna jump in this top tier water, cool, I'll bring all y'all pain Snatch Tay out the whip And throw Roc out the glass: that's an All Star game Y'all niggas know my slogan… Oh, I don't got one, that's right I'm a hustler, ‘cause I done put this nigga Roc in a bag twice He nervous, God callin' his name, it's mad bright Don't be scared, God know your slogan: "That's light!" [Round 2: Tay Roc] You started this problem, nigga, don't hide from it He smoked Roc once, here's where he die from it Yeah, I took an L, most niggas don't rise from it Last time I tried, this time I'll be triumphant You don't know Roc, I don't play games with nobody I be lookin' like a fool tryin' to tuck a whole shotty You could end up gettin' knocked out your own body Get sent to where everything all white, you won't see Yo Gotti Ayy, I'm no copy, faggot, I am official I dug your grave deep, your bitch could be in it with you Once I roll up with a Hershey Kiss and a pistol Nah, once I roll up on her she kissin' a pistol That's light, I ain't Surf or Conceited, nigga, it's goin' down I'ma use more than a subtitle to slow 'em down What I tote around, I brought clips, extra bullets I'll have Clips sweatin' bullets, it's plenty of 'em to go around Hold it down! There's more in store from me When I say put bitches in bags They don't get Christian Dior from me Know that! I come at niggas accordingly I'll have the docs stitchin' his cap: that's fitted embroidery Niggas annoyin' me, that's 'til I clutch the pound Dump a round, I hit 'em, Clips slip on the fuckin' ground And then I hit 'em until the clips slip on the fuckin' ground I don't fuck around I'm tryin' to put Clips in a casket or in an hover round Fuckin' clown! It's obvious this ain't the same Roc You body me? If that's what he thinkin', I think not Fuck around and catch a head shot right on your main block Tried to tell you lightning don't strike twice in the same spot Nigga, I don't have the time Question: What your 5 o'clock shadow gon' look like after 9? That's how I kill him comin' after mine Chiropractor: I'm 'bout to put this nigga back in line The AR got a hell of a bang Peep how this AR put me ahead of the game He hear a "CH!", then that AR lie Clips with a shell in his brain "CH!" AR lie Clips — I was spellin' your name That's light, tell the pigs for somethin' I ain't never did He shot me in the head, I survived, so I can't let him live Besides a turtle, you ain't never seen a shell this big I'm tryin' to leave his wife with a story to tell his kids Tell this kid I shoulda killed him a while ago So what, I'm skinny? You better dip from this Calico Skinny dip, Calicoe… I be wildin', bro On this stage you could get schooled or let your talent show If I catch a bus out to Harlem, ready for action, look Soon as I hop off, that's Peter Pan, you gettin' capped and hooked I'm face to face with my killer, why you actin' shook? I swear to God this can'll bus, tell this rapper book Nigga, this my second, you won't get this round, Clips I him him with a drum, leave bullets all around Clips Naw, since this nigga Clips round, I brought a round clip Fuck a Clips round, I'll shoot whoever around Clips Remember you told me you be blackin' it out? ‘Cause you from 8th and Lennox where they be clappin' it out Wel, I'ma show you what a savage about Your grandmother called me Like, "Kill Charlie, so he don't bring his ass back in my house!" Picture me losin', see how good that's lookin'? For your grandmother you'll do time in that hood as bookin' Well, I will hock spit in her good-ass cookin' Knock her dentures down her throat, once she choke "hhaaa" Sound like she gettin' that good-ass whoopin' [Round 2: Charlie Clips] I killed you in 2008, Worldstar showed the death in 2009 Your mother had to wear an all black dress just to watch the battle The whole state of Maryland was losin' they mind Nigga, you even thought Lux set you up — "Ahh, Beloved…" You was lookin' like the new dude next in line And if you felt like a Harlem nigga set you up Then why would you join a group with Mook, Rex and Shine? See, it's my fault, Roc ‘Cause honestly I don't even think you know what's goin' on You probably thinkin' we battlin' in Tobacco Lounge, right? But you really in ICU holdin' on Oh, y'all look a bit confused Well, let me take it a bit further, like this lame said What I did to you was an attempt murder But that attempt murder left you brain dead Right now this ain't a rematch, you not really battlin' Clips It's 2008 and you in the hospital, the URL don't even exist The nigga Beasley ain't never helped you in your life There's a tube inside you helpin' you piss The nigga Smack got a dark Caesar and his beard little as shit Hold on y'all, ‘cause the story gets deeper See your daughter by your bedside, she tryin' to play with you "Mommy, he not movin' again." She jump in the bed, decide to lay with you You escaped death before But this time I'ma make sure death stay with you Next round is where I pull your plug, but for now I'ma pray for you Dear Heavenly Father, I wanna thank you For lettin' me become a monster But honestly I need another hobby ‘Cause the skills you blessed me with is too deadly Lord, for example I'm 'bout to catch another body But see, this time it's out of self defense Oh, you see they book him to try to and kill me Why am I prayin' to you and he ain't dead? That's ‘cause the next round he will be So can you please forgive me for my sins now? ‘Cause what I'm doin' to him and his career is not fair They say Heaven got a ghetto Well, if y'all got a URL, can you please make him top tier? And if you happen to wake him up out that coma Can you please bless him with some substance? Don't only let him rhyme about big-ass gats Please give him swag Take off these Jamaican clothes and no more big-ass hats And please tell him stop wearin' green Before he get cut, lookin' like somebody grass And if you let him be Dot Mobb Bless him with the strength, Lord, to grab nobody's ass I'm beggin' you, Lord, now can the congregation say "Damn"? And if y'all ready for Roc to die, let me get an "Amen" Roc, I mighta just won this round with no bars That's the actual truth Word to my Detroit niggas I got bars, here's the actual proof I got two snubs inside my waist, I'll let 'em clap at your roof Mind you I said "noses," right? So the witness thought he got shot by X-Factor and Mook This is bars of the century mixed with flow of the year Oh, let me guess, you got two pistols from Indiana And you roll with a pair You keep two 4's like Paul George and you'll go on a tear You lance Stevenson: get to the heat and just blow in the air I'm not feelin' that, I'm so motherfuckin' mean with it Let me bring that picture thing back And do a whole nother scheme with it See, you remind me of the Pacers, got so much potential But I got too much heat to let you win this rematch Bitches say you like Hibbert on the block, that mean your D wack He'll be on his back like George, I let that heat clap It'll spin this Pacer backwards Get him shot again, now that's a recap That was amazin', because "Pacer" backwards is "recap" I'm in my zone, nigga You got gold teeth? Good, my bitch Nina, she a gold digger Tell my shooter, "Rasheed Wallace" That mean the bullet from this Piston will make the hole, nigga Then I tell 'em "Ginobli" That mean the long nose make the hole bigger See, the problem with you is you don't have performance Yeah, you only got just bars You're not gon' beat me with that, Roc You know why? I'm just hard And honestly, your swag is kind of off Yeah, I don't mean to hurry you And I'm glad you wore flowers on your shirt ‘Cause you knew I would bury you [Round 3: Tay Roc] Tell this fat guy, he can't keep up with me at that size If he's movin' large coke, I drive through, this big MAC fries We call MAC's "whoppers," you eat a bullet the snack size Hit a nigga's apple, turn over: that's a bad pie Bad guy, fat nigga, you should get this scheme You donut built and soft as the jelly in between I put a hole in him, have him lookin' like a Krispy Kreme When that tre comin' out the box it ain't a kid's cuisine Fat nigga, I should spit in your face You don't even drink alcohol unless it has a licorice taste Here's where I put this nigga in shape Closed mouths don't get fed Open yours, it's gettin' fixed with a plate Fat nigga, you should forfeit all of that pork shit You pay for pussy, it ain't free to lay for this corn chip Your bitch be on some whore shit She love smokin' chocolates, I gave her a graham She let me crack her and some more shit I'm on shit, that St. Louis nigga kinda hurt him He had a hard time with Magic: Donald Sterling I'm tryna murk him, if this ho tell He'll sleep in a casket that says "Do not disturb him" I'm a different kinda person, nigga, Tay trippin' Nigga tried me before and he caught Tay slippin' Well, if I get to bangin' on top of this car like Blake Griffin Malaysian Airlines: you gonna be plain missin' Never been a follower, ‘cause I lead the way FYI, we don't fuck with the DEA I'll put a bullet in Clips, the same bullet'll go through DNA I hit both of them bitches at the same time: I'm Stevie J Nigga, bring your back up with you I don't care if it's your grandma ma I should kill whoever shack up with you This MAC buck hit you, it seem like a Mack truck hit you Docs gon' do the autopsy and find the gat stuck in you These hands are similar: that's Siamese The right hook will leave your chin slanted: that's Chinese My man brought me two new Glocks I'm like, "Where you find these?" Verizon Fios bullets, travel at high speeds Light bars! I'll leave you with a smoked wig Hit him with a Marlboro: nigga, that's a old SIG Peep, all I gotta do is find out where this ho live Fuck which room he in, my niggas shootin' up his whole crib Wait… I heard Hitman sayin' names, why he holla mine? Tell him get off my dick, his whole style is mine Enjoy your college time, nigga, I will ruin your career Leg shot in the low shin from the cal of mine But anyway, robbin' your connect, that's what I'm in it for I will get your plug stretched out: that's an extension cord Niggas don't live long here… that's what extensions for Watch your mouth 'fore DNA askin' you "What's your dentures for?" Give him more? Nigga, I will disrespect your world Catch you slippin' on a dinner date and chin-check your girl Real shit, I will have you eyein' down a double barrel Try to run, get a back shot: that's an epidural Y'all gon' see clips get banged Then y'all gon' see Clips get banged Whatever remain in the clip goin' in Clips' remains Some of the clips you can't see, some of the clips'll hang Worldstar/Vine compilation: none of my clips the same You gon' beat me? Nah, still niggas lyin' Tell you like I told the others, I don't feel niggas rhymes Who he foolin' with them steel grippin' lines? Tell him, fuckin' with me, he'll get smacked: we on real nigga time [Round 3: Charlie Clips] My name Charlie Clips, every bar is piff That mean it's very potent So don't bite my lines or recite my rhymes ‘Cause it look like you don't do no heavy smokin' I spits that good shit that get in your lungs Have you doin' heavy chokin' Bag your baby moms, do some heavy strokin' Condom pop, skeet on her buns, then rub it in like Keri lotion Now, for those who never heard me rap before You probably thinkin', "Damn, he's wack!" But those lines destroyed his life back in '08 And they the reason for this rematch No other league wanna book him It's ironic how Roc always need Smack They put me in rehab for cuttin' up Roc, well, this the relapse What's poppin', Tay? Word around town is you joined Dot Mobb A rap group that gotta ask Mook for permission Them niggas not hard 20 percent ass grab, 30 percent left, went and got jobs And the last 50 percent we look at Rex and think they got robbed And that's who you wanna be the leader of? Dot Mobb? Knowin' you not Mook, stop reachin', Roc Before I give your hand some, that shit is not cute With this beam I dot mobs, that K shine, I let it rock groups You'll see a long can in this ho nigga mouth, but it ain't thot juice Ayy, Beasley, this y'all favorite? Well, you gon' make me Smack you, Beas' If you tip Roc, I'm on a way to kill him, I'ma clap you, Beas' Tip, waiter, guess which restaurant I'm in? I let the ratchet squeeze I'ma serve Roc with the tre, then hit your apple, Beas' So stop promotin' Tay Tay like this nigga what the game missin' He have a little battle, you give him $2,000 Okay, his change flippin' He have a big battle, you give him $2,000 That's the same difference You might as well work for Halal You keep givin' niggas the same chicken But me? I got my 8K and my AK I'm in your bitch crib with my nigga Ray Ray Both got guns at her head, but I hit it first, I guess I'm Ray J She tried to block the shot, it left her pinkie: that's Day Day Silencer on, kids never heard the pop: that's Bébé I don't deal with opinions, nigga Before Mickey I was speakin' facts Like if your bitch wanna get saved by the bell I advise you to stop speakin' back Or we ring her bell, then she open, we start squeezin' MAC's Bullets'll be in your bae side more than Screech and Zack Remember when he told K Shine how he over win? And how if his girl see the battle He gon' be livin' single like Overton? You ever went to sleep as a kid, got pussy Your moms call you and fuck the dream up? Well, that's how it feel when a nigga like this fuck a scheme up I don't give a fuck if you livin' single or not Or if your wife or your kids there Khadija life, promote a magazine My best friend is a MAC's, I bring my friend there Move the kids, kill every nigga that's over 10 when the clip flare Clear the scene, hit church, pray, then get that sin clear Here's a few reason why a nigga like Tay Tay won't ever get Clips For one, I cover the scene: that make me Slick Rick You better jet or be face to face with a Smith on some Vick shit You pull your gun out, we laugh at your arsenal: that's Trick Trick Oh, let me guess, you gon' put my bitch in the truck Make sure my miss fit I'd rather put this MAC in your bitch mouth, make sure her lip stick So the bullet could tour through her body, that's a quick trip The cal on me, and my .40 official without the big tits Now, that's how you scheme, lil nigga Next time, you learn how to do it proper Roc, we could box, but good Lord, you could use a doctor You open hand smack me? Shit, I will use the chopper You'll get shots all night for that smack: that's Exclusiv Vodka Y'all niggas know my slogan… Oh, I forgot, I don't got one, that's right I'm a hustler, I done put Tay Roc in a bag twice God call him, he nervous, lookin' up, it's mad bright Don't be scared, God know your slogan: "That's light!"
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