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Correct JC Vs. Chef Trez Lyrics
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Correct JC Vs. Chef Trez
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[Round 1: Chef Trez] Yo, I say, you know neither one of us gon' lose right? We both gon' win I mean, you’ll battle anybody, I’ll battle anybody You back on Smack, I'm back on Smack You Writers Bloque, I'm Writers Bloque Nigga, we twins! But where we separate, I won't clown you for, and that's your dance issues Nigga, the revolver got a spin with a kick: I'm tryna dance with you! We was raised different, the shit we go through day to day different God told you get baptised, he told me to get a gun We was saved different A savage, I am one, young hothead with a handgun Send him to God He'll be facing the light, like Mike P with a man bun You want war, hell, I'm at his whip when he with his gang 'bout to spark shells But y'all snitches, so y'all can get beheaded if anyone in that car tell How he a killer? If he don't play his part well You don't hold weight on either side: you not a barbell You had nothing to market, no brand As far as writing good, what have you done, J? Nothing! But I got known off of branding like DeAndre dunking And I see how niggas like "ehhh" I'm kinda cool with it Like y'all ain't really see how I’m going off Like mid-round rebuttals I can do this shit 'cause I’m showing off Like, ain't Saga a Christian? So hold on to that 'Cause y'all believe he beasting But any nigga with him, they’ll get popped if they think he decent Like I make a mess in front of JC's mans on stage That's Tink Tha Demon! But you say a Stephen Curry bar every battle That shit not working You never switch it up THAT'S why they criticize the form when the shot perfect! But they put a battery in your back like they tryna get the clock working Well, I'm Glock-squirting, I got money and guns A band and a nose ringing: it's the Pac version You want me to put your spine in front of you And send you back to the future when shots pouring from the ratchet? Or you wanna get your body stretched from the arm when I clap it? Or right before you start dancing, tilt your head with a cap and put four in your basket? That's three options, you can get it like Michael, J That's Fox, Jordan, or Jackson! I proved I can hang here a few times, you didn't And everybody saying crack the reason Yung Ill ain't been back, well, it's a few victims 'Cause I still haven't forgot how Roc had you missing I mean we all seen it, they dropped you from the league I know you gotta care It was like the biblical days when Jesus got stones threw at him ‘Cause the second JC saw Roc, he was outta there! Smack gon' get this bastard murked See my last bout? Well, I'mma drag him worse Clip pop, shit still leaking out after the kid drop: it's after-birth I'll drag him to the middle of his city while he dead, that's how a savage work All you gon' here about is JC dying, like a Baptist church! Free the homie NHB Mills! I'm sure that's how you feel, of course Bro be behind you every battle, giving you real support That's my bro too, so I scream "Free Mills!" before I spark a shot Then release the mil' like bro got his charges dropped Personally I don't give a fuck about Julian or any Carter I had a truth by me He the size of Blue Ivy: just a mini Carter He don't bear shit or be with bears, bitch Who you tryna convince you a grizzly, Carter? I'll have 30 niggas pistol-whip you Like, 30 9s press a dent in your shit: now you Jimmy Carter You battle with random niggas and vets I even seen you flowing in the Cage But your career was at a standstill You wasn't getting closer to the greats 'Til you joined the Bloque Now you Super Mario, now notice he relates He must have been on 'shrooms jumping to the Bloque 'Cause now we see him growing on the stage! You went to war with a few members, but now it's my turn to get you But you coming back, so they say it's a lesson I'mma learn against you Well, did the sky crack? Did he come here on a white horse? Did the trumpets go off? Did the fire burn and hit you? No? So, how the fuck is JC's return official!? I got gifted ways, but a lot of the shit I've seen let the kid rage So be a killer or get killed but you still got to pick a way So mask up, get a blade or grip the spray Be equipped with Ks, it's just advice Either he can purge or he lying after the fifth get raised! I bring BL4 back to life, just to show you how you could get slaughtered We don't see the franchise you built: you'll never make it in Brooklyn, Carter! [Round 1: JC] All right, y'all ready? "Well, well, well...welcome back, JC!" So URL need a nigga that’ll actually stack some bodies But that's me nigga But a team member, well I'll have to stash it probably Which is fine but, get in line while I thrash the body And make it the worst shit to respond to Allen Iverson, Tyronn Lue: it's gon' be one step past a body! Niggas couldn't hold half my spot Ask the Bloque! Niggas ask for shots, then they turn they back So that gets shot! Nigga, ask the docs about the patients I left ‘em And I won't quit yet, I got more clips left And the cap'll swallow his head like the old Dipset I'm in a class by myself Why acknowledge me? Ain't no trying stopping me, they just dying watching me Crew's at the top of it like Scientology! Now y'all think I believe, in every battle I've had My opponents is the ones that really got the heaters Oh, but soon as I rap, that's when the room turn into non-believers Them same niggas probably think ‘Bron really drive a Kia Trez, you do know them slum-slums Ill Will got famous for rapping 'bout, where I was born and raised Nothing these niggas rap about get the boy amazed If we approach you, just stand your ground...the Florida way! And it's too late to jump ship when the 40 rain 'Cause we lifting whole arcs up, for 40 days And the kid own it, with different joints And like when you hit Hogan - well, you get the point! The clips loaded, metal swinging like hypnosis Get focused, ain't no over heads It's point-blank range, bitch! You know he dead They called you the Chef, but they read you wrong You would blow the lead before you blow the lead, and you know it, Trez! But it's fine, you can go ‘round with Saga if you think prayer is enough to protect us I'm from the hood! I know comedians ain't the only niggas that run into hecklers So be smart tonight Don't mention the Bloque, and won't none of the homies aid you They didn't have to promise me It's Sean Connery: the bond is just too old to save you! And if he don't step down, we take the whole set down Kick the door in, hit the vault, quicker than a Cortez round! I left bodies on this road that I've travelled I just slump another, then slump another! No fucking wonder! Dawg got drive like Dumb and Dumber! If you got any threat, save it Your next statement might not even make the arrest papers It's nickel around that 9, the tech plated Ain't no life flashing, it's life-snatching That bitch beautiful...and breathtaking! Say what you want, but ain't nobody ran in my spot ever And they won't, I hold that strap I'll sit a nigga in front of God in that mask...like he Kodak Black! It's body bags at every battle Make sure your homies found one But do not jump in that bitch yet 'cause it's only Round 1! [Round 2: Chef Trez] Y'all niggas love this little short motherfucker when he spit his raps And he Writers Bloque, he kinda cold I ain't even gon' say the nigga wack But, see, I did grow up in the slum-slums, and nigga you not that crazy It is Kodak Black, too Every round over the head coming from a project baby! I swear to God I was only gon' have one rebuttal, but y'all wanna see a dummy get murked I mean for that bull it's crazy how I can put money on his head and then have money on his shirt Nigga I'm giving you that work, nigga I don't know Last battle I had P in all red nigga that's Smack shirt I peeped it, you try hard to make 'em believe in what you say you gon' do Well I say what it is, point blank period bitch, you can take it how you want to You have no stripes, no muscle on the Bloque This fake a sucker You a grown man in a child's body, little man What you weighin', brother? I'mma make a big statement, get outta place and your shit breaking You don't gotta have a piece of facial hair to get a quick shaving I can cut both of your sides and then fade it Or slice your dome and have your wig hanging on the other side like the Temptations You out of your element, this not what you was made for Tell yourself focus, Smack finessed you, brung you closer to death too It seems like a Shell motor But now the shit peaches and cream: 112 wrote it! They got Jackson playing Carter like Samuel L. coaching But not only that was a JC flip Jackson, Carter: see, it’s still a JC flip! And niggas telling me I look like dude from Friday that pulled Ezel out the store So y’all wanna play now Well, if it's true, he'll get it like Ezel 'Cause once he slip up, I'mma make him take this 40 on the way out Now look at me, then look at you, you just half the man I have a plan, grab the can If he rush ours, it'll kick in front of Carter like Jackie Chan But not only was that a JC flip Jackie Chan, Jackie Carter: it’s still a JC flip! This nigga wack, you not gon' win two rounds Yeah all them cats love you But he tryna sham God So even if I start losing a round I'll snatch it back from you If you ask about the shit he rapping 'bout he change the subject I got Writers Bloque, my gang is coming Empire Mongols, my Genghis coming And you'll get a limp chopped for the green: yeah, the gang’ is coming! Then give him writer's block Baow! He won't think of nothing You out here judging careers, just 'cause Tryna belittle people like your shit dope Besides jacking crazy bars, you ain't shit though Julian Carter jeopardizing his crew Y'all can get split if clips blow JC gon' be the reason shit get separated: that's Jim Crow But not only was that a JC flip Judging careers, just 'cause, jacking crazy, jeopardizing crew, Jim Crow...those are JC flips! I'm not scared of J, you really not too threatening now Me taking a L? No, I refuse Aye, anybody thinking otherwise can dead it now Wait, J-U-L-I-A-N...see, the Chef is wilding Just like that setup, I can blow him to pieces and have Julian spreaded out You dying, sucker See how my lines structured? My mind gutter, nines touch ya’ Since JC is God son, his background get blew like Nas cover! And niggas telling me he too nice, like rebuttals won't work at all this time Well, if the first gun butt don't work, I'll do it again And the re-butt’ll do the job this time! Time, man! [Round 2: JC] It's really hard for me to adjust to this new generation No lie, it's like they move strange They would rather wear diamonds holding loose change As far as jewelry, my only concern is the food chain And y'all on it, it's too easy for me to target what's necks Nigga all of you next, and you gotta be ready to die over them words So don't talk me to death They might not know you scared, Trez...but I do! Oh, and you gon' show it 'Cause that last round was not enough, my nigga...and we both know it You wanna battle rap till you die? Fine! Your career might benefit you in a box But it ain't your size...so they might have to bend to fit you in a box! You're not a killer, my nigga, neither is Denzel Washington Y'all just act really well We jump different hurdles You a ninja turtle: I drop a band, and a head get wrapped with a shell! It's way different when I rap, nigga They don't call me "the man" for nothing I mean, I don't joke with niggas It's not poker, nigga, but...you could lose a hand for bluffing ‘Cause everybody knows taking me is a disaster and shit But do the math: you should know you gon’ get punched when you ask for the shit! And it'll be nothing else in your path this exciting, God pen But the Devil in me grabbing the iron and Hey, these’ll get to cracking like Clash of the Titans I don't know about y'all niggas but me, see I love doubt Squeeze and leave a lung out This appear in the ring like the genie on Punch-Out! Nigga, bring troops, the four sing n’ rain like R&B groups I'm smoother rhyming with the punch than Dolomite But the punch hit you, like the bowl was spiked Let me explain to y'all why niggas is starting to think 4-bar setups not even nice at all It's 'cause you always telegraph the punch like…"It's right here, y'all" That shit worse than handing your playbook to the defense before you hike the ball Piece of advice: don't let your crew amp you I got a new handle And y'all gon' see a nigga end 'em all with the trey like food samples I can stand with my hands behind my back, rap, and still get a reaction Pretending you had balls in your hand was your biggest reaction! And you niggas reacted But don't worry though, ‘cause I'm back And I'mma make y'all hate it This is not a situation y'all safe with Hollows loaded in front of me like I'm Arsonal But I'mma make y'all take 'em A buck at a time like a Ray Charles payment But if he not home, we coming for you later Doomsday ya’, all through the crib with the trey like the butler in Tomb Raider Nigga you rap and I rap but we at a great length apart Like you study, but game tapes can't prepare you for the mental part Like how could I have left, come back years later and some of these niggas favorite still That's 'cause I aim to kill My advice: make a will, before Jesus take the wheel Forewarning, don't be surprised at the sound of the fifth when it clap Or try to whisper to Smack like "How he get in with that?" It's nothing to tell, boy Uncle Elroy: I slipped this in the back! [Round 3: Chef Trez] I was at this nigga mama house one Sunday right I mean that old bitch a hoochie I'm smooth, laidback, cooling on some boy shit Aye, let's hit that damn Jacuzzi! She said that's a bet, pop that ass real quick His people showed up like an hour late Now it is Uncle Elroy, 'cause that mag done popped in the pool like his nephew with the sour face They say it's no way his crazy bars could lose to my average shit, and that's a sin You see how my hunger and passion blends I figured this a ATM 'Cause as long as the numbers was right for this card I can just punch in order to get past the pen We all name-flip, we all use angles, we all punch It just depends who better with the shit Like in basketball: they all shoot, all play defense all dribble But it's levels to the shit So try to downplay what I do, when you do the same shit it's the wrong move I added season to the formula, so how you gon' tell the chef how to cook his own food You can't be a master at what you do if you ain't master what you do You gotta see the end vision I envision that this gon' be your end, vision Me dying? Please be quiet I'm too cutting the Bloque: that's an incision But what you gon' say? I rapped on John John league? Well, that should let you know that the pen different! OG said don't stop shooting till everything in that sub gone And make sure you got something over your hands, that's word to this scrub's home See you was working with the pen tryna put on for the Glove We were staying away from the pen 'cause we put the gloves on Smack said "Get him," but, see, all that gassing for him just gon' make his head bigger It's also gon' be the reason the lead hit him Shots fly and have the Yak on the ground like...rest in peace to my dead niggas! I be in Pontiac in a Pontiac with my fam mobbing Catch JC with his bitch and rob him Like give up the bread, he like "Fam, stop it" Either you can walk away free or get the whole clip when the can popping I’mma make him choose between 0 and 30: gave him Durant options See the youngster on his grind, I'm a monster with the nine Gun with the beam, put it by him If I dump it, then he dying It flash from his chin up like, ‘Once upon a time’ I swear to God if I have to grip it, my whole crew shooting And what's up with these niggas with struggle and gangsta bars? These dudes clueless Niggas got shotties in their pants legs, deuce deuce in their boots but they move stupid I had the pack in my briefs, AR in my jeans...and I walk regular 'cause I'm used to it! We was poppin' locks, breaking in houses, and tryna kick the door down You was pop, lock, and breaking, tryna tear the floor down! I'll turn savage on him, pull up in his block and I'm blasting something Two guns, I double the treys in that Michigan state: I'm Magic Johnson Yo Smack, next time I get on stage, could you get a sign that says "Beware" please? I went from Ryda to Mike to JC: my progress moving at rare speed But you stuck in the same spot, you were just with ARP over there, see Where's the progress? You went from Rare Breed to battling a rare breed! Now let's play "Swear to God", 'cause they say you a man of your word, and you stand by it Well, swear to God you wasn't out there stealing 15 dollars from fans, talking 'bout they'll get a signed album See, fam lying! You out here stealing on fans like Ron Artest, this man trifling You bum ass out here finessing fans for Gram prices and you do it like the shit cool See, you a bold fellow Well, I'll send you half the 30, and put 15 in your face: you'll meet the old Melo! The weight I hold to you might be too much to curl But you be switching moods, in and out of emotions like a fucking girl This like GTA story mode, 'cause changing your character will get you sent to another world And niggas question if I belong on this stage, this shit is over with You caught a head shot, no open casket, they gotta close your shit I walk up to your mother like "Sorry, my condolences You miss your son? Yeah?” BAOW! Y'all can be closer then If you can't stand the heat, stay the fuck out the kitchen I done cooked another nigga: time to clean up the dishes! Man, it's Chef Life! [Round 3: JC] Now, of course Smack did throw you to a wolf, but it's a purpose for that You heard it's a fact you can die here, so don't blame that purpose on Smack You the chef...you were supposed to know the risk working with crack! I attack too strong, you can lose your sanity going man to man with me Why even try? Lose a whole league of guys JC died for your sins, flip that, if you send for JC you die I done had enough stunts Let me guess...you grew up trapping "Dawg was in the field with the birds like Duck Hunt"- nigga, shut up! They gave you the fucked up hand and you played with the shit Even got him on stage with the shit, tryna be the franchise Well don't get caught in the wrong chain of events Nigga my rage genuine First it was, "JC you gotta slow it down they not catching it, be patient with 'em" Then it was "Well where’s the old JC you gotta stop playing with 'em" That's why it's not worth it That's why niggas still criticize the form when the shot perfect But you, you just gotta watch your next step 'Cause the way I land mine makes everybody a target when I plan mine Your bitch catch the heat from these straps, she not walking out with tan lines I'm worse than the Undertaker in that cell This shit can get ugly for man kind But this shit an arm’s length I plead insanity, then take him from his family when the arms lift Then reunite him with his family on some Chris Benoit shit I take 'em all, I'm tired of you and these 4 bars setup niggas Spitting that shit that you hope is hot Then y'all end up every setup with “ain't it ironic”- no nigga no it's not! For what's at stake, he get a tip then I have 'em documenting what's left Then I give 'em more bucks like, compliments to the chef See what you looking at? This ain't an image Guarantee we can see the same picture and still paint it different That's 'cause my penmanship ended shit, y'all witnessed it Finished it in the first round, you rebuttal, if I'm generous I could have made this a whole homi first With me waving the strap like Bonnie third You wanna a movie about the life that you lived? Fine, the plot is first Nigga headshot, noodles get boiled in the mix behind these bars Yeah I cook up with the shotty I catch him in traffic, make the shit jam His parents gon' be the 6th man 'Cause they gon' all pull up to a body Shout out to Tink tha Demon, but I might be the only one in the building that actually speak to demons Got a glove on both hands, didn't even get 'em dirty but did him dirty Hit the Chef, with the 30 This Chef gon' need a cater attempt to serve me No bygones, 'cause by dawn we hit the door up Jehovah witness early The path that a lot of these new niggas run TRITE! Everything from how they move has been done twice Even they speech is stolen like Trump wife But if y'all ever hear niggas that literally write they're disgusting They deserve to get punished But this my man, he could have just sat observing the function ‘Cause now the naysayers gotta deal with the haymakers And as y'all see they still land, worse than Columbus Trez, it is over with- ...TIME, man!
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