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Correct Loaded Lux Vs. Midwest Miles Lyrics
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Correct Loaded Lux Vs. Midwest Miles
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[Round 1: Loaded Lux] You know he gon' bring the poker game face, he done studied the game tapes Well let him come, shit he could tell me what side I look better from I'm never sprung, marks think they test smart and they step sharp That's why I make that ass look bad like stretch marks Catch hard feelings and, slack up like high waters the tides on ya' I'm back for the side order, try warn him Man play mega I'm Vega with a pen Slip dog, get ripped more than Schwarzenegger in the gym Shit, day he get a win, there'll be visiting stations Rivers in nations, Mars a have civilization He's a phony henchman You in Lux house, you flinch you get duffed out like you drinking with Homer Simpson It's no contending, and this my third hobby, with words I'll be Next to rule, and I ain't Irv Gotti Shit moms knew it long through it schooling ya', all my wrongdoings where they duke it and throwing hadoukens Ain't no being 'all you can' B is a dead guy running, his chest large pumping His head [?] punches and his left eye jumping You repped yo' side, my set gon' ride Lies, tell me gas prices had you petrified I check both sides, when crossing I run the route I'm the king, I cue pawns, now cut it out You know what this shit about, it's hundreds to fling You gon' either jump in the ring or get under the wing Ain't sharing with the dogs, we got shit to clear them all I be in your lobby letting that thing sing, I be airing halls He don't wanna spar mucus His bitch spit better, lips wet up, she done been in more laps than Carl Lewis I write my wrongdoings 'bout life in the hard ruin The metro card student, he duck and he dodge through it How you living Miles? "In my mom's roof I'm hostage, can't fondle my ostrich Got a job moving boxes" I pitch the trap grams Put down that same hustle, distribute rap jams My disc get wrapped, scanned - my lyrics backhand More DVD niggas tried to put me on the cam than a Diplomat fan He don't click and clack cans, Miles hit dust if his shot bust He like a Grand Theft cheat code, his guns just popped up He gon' say I'm wrong, well, when he right? I come heavy he gon' bitch up - this emcee light I come to town like [?], wallet or I'm violent I beat you till you leaking violet And they thought Big was the wildest 'Lux who on your level new?' Very few, measured to a medical incredible never met a dude better who Think they on my pedestal Get my fist in ya' whole mouth I'm Theraflu, I be knocking these niggas cold out And I don't hold out, it's strike first then the pipe burst Might jerk, squeeze on niggas like tight shirts Duck or your head a be struck, your life dirt We come through, Con Edison trucks - you light work [Round 1: Midwest Miles] Fake niggas write verses, and fill 'em with lies But I see the girl in you Lux, from the bitch in your eyes Who you fooling? You a chick with a dick, a bitch in disguise And I'm a real hood nigga, who would get killed for my pride I peel with the nine, bust off my aim dead nice For that cane, you get it worse than Harold did at the red light Nigga get your head right, you ain't never did no homi You a little nigga like Martin I'm in his apartment like Cole Well he see me I'm rolling with the Tommy Tommy gun run out, I'm going for the shotty Pop him and leave shotgun pellets all over yo' body I'm feeling big as Yao Ming, when I'm rolling with the rocket You's the faggot nigga in jail, holding niggas' pockets The way I take his bread I'm like a hole in his pocket Watch sparks fly from the chrome when I pop it Your ho I only pop it when I'm lazy off the piff She unzip a nigga pants, and go crazy with the dick I bust off I'm gone, man I'm Swayze on the chick She a jump off, a freak, you having babies with the bitch The way I fuck the shit out her, she should pay me for the dick I'ma send her home to you like, "You shady lil' bitch" The four-fifth spark and it bang you I done caught more niggas slipping, than guardian angels The Desert Eagle put a hole in you, and your guardian angel I'm on streets and I'm like Satan, and dog is a angel You see me hunting niggas, mask and a pipe For them jewels you get your ass beat worse than Passion of Christ I'ma prove this nigga washed up, after tonight If I get close enough, shit I'm stabbing him twice Listen, my gun like a good nut, just something that I had to bust I seen you couple Smacks ago, hollering and screaming, spitting on everything, sounding like Daffy Duck Two guns up, I'm aiming for it, you Daffy Duck I was aiming for his head but a nigga yelled "Dog somebody tell Daffy duck" Lil' faggot fuck, I could hardly wait To expose the nigga from the Nutcracker video doing the Harlem Shake Real niggas gon' see it man, dog is fake I'm here every month, I see all the money that Harlem make This nigga wanna be 50, but you standing in my face looking more like Carlton Banks I'm locked and loaded Lux When that Lorcin start sparking Hit his chest, and rip his vest all off him My killers all awesome I tell 'em kill all 'em Catch Lux at the Rucker, he getting more shot often than Spalding Nigga I'm balling [Round 2: Loaded Lux] This is for my niggas up north getting full on that jack mac First Smack back I got a nigga to back-smack I love it, quit it adjusting your fitted, I'm twisting your cap back 'Cause I bang hard, these game-card niggas just scratching matches He rapping like he trapping You sick say to just imagine, you sound like Tinactin, nigga you tough-acting The fact is, you's a waste of my motherfucking time nigga You cutting into your mother's fucking time nigga You don't come up and grind with us I don't owe you no paper You owe me, fuck is you? I'm doing the favor The rookies wanna take shots, well I just get 'em open off the picks Slick give me that Jigga nigga, 'cause he don't know when to quit I say Miles, leave that bitch, I aim to stiff fit It's why you lick clit, your dick slip Wished you could find somebody you could stick with It's a picnic out here and only lions eat And you type, lie and sleep inside the street Type joes, hit car shows, and pimp the driver's seat Miles ain't seen flipping doors before Dominique I'm in his momma suite, she throating the thing I tell her where the better, yeah, hop up on this pole and spring I ain't rap shit sole, 'cause the rap ring hold Corny niggas they give deals like Sach's Fifth Clothes But Lux say, I got a style like I backswing hoes I'm witty I'm slicker than that hair on Nat King Cole But you, you sound simple, real jack-be-nimble Type a guy just, rock up by with lullabies I mean, what could you do? Tattle tell her in a cellar I seek the crew, jumped a nigga for his shoes I mean, y'all could do it too So they ain't built like that Well Loaded, shit I'm just Lux nigga, skills like that When you get back to the D, with a L nigga 'Cause you repping, tell 'em I broke down you, and them D12 niggas He's a fruit Smack Him swift, that's bizarre He's a con artist playing conniving but, where's the proof at? Ask the Mook cat Mention my nickname you probably smell shit stains I'm in the ring breaking 'em up like Mills Lane You's the fucking meal ticket, cocksucker deal with it I'm over the hills, tell your guys don't die over some hills, bitch You oughta quit 'Cause I'll flip like a jolly dolphin Who ever body guard is pushing up flower gardens Lie on the track, and die on your back with the trolly charging Rip your necks out, poke your chest out like Dolly Parton This is so Johnny Carson Which strip you working? You working, helping other businesses, bringing in health benefits Last battle, you was hungry nigga Mouth full of spit You looked like a Mike Epps joke with the white around yo' lips Bruising the nigga, thrown in the mud He was confused from the hits, he didn't know who he was He blew through the strip like a Hoover Crip, throwing up blood You should brag that b-rag that's smart kid 'Cause blood's the only thing the tar get from the target He another bad guy, in the Steven Seagal flick He getting his skull kicked I wanna see armpits And back at the apartment, and this shit looking crucial Look at me nigga, I did this to you [Round 2: Midwest Miles] Last time I checked, I was the man on these streets They call me 'Barbecue,' I keep heat when it's beef, peep You had your time and let it pass along Just another battle rapper, making trashy songs You a 'hot 16' nigga, a hot 16 niggas, ay y'all out the car infrared beam niggas I'm 'bout my money my paper, 'nah mean nigga? So for that cream nigga I Martin Luther King niggas These rap niggas don't love me, they wanna see me hit Slumped over in my ride and take my shit I got news I'm strapped, you can take this clip [?] niggas be gangsters and I hate this shit I can't stand niggas like you, yeah they make me sick Type of niggas get all tough on camera, but behind the scenes they take in dick I ain't with the back and forth and slick shit I get on some quick shit And pop him in his head Like "Bitch, come on, come up out of that bread" [Round 3: Loaded Lux] Fuck is he liquored up? If he was ever sicker than Lux he was calling nurses He should be parked in church with, pastors and psalm verses Sketched out getting, stretched out in long hearses Liars should be put in a box for con verses Don't talk to me in battles like you could afford a castle Yeah you a baller, you always walking where you travel I point rock his joints pop and your joints lock And blippie, it's like Pippy, I come with a long stocking Who in here think he hot? See, you remind 'em of O'Neal They probably think you should kill but you ain't got no shot You ain't in the block [?] All he sold is green You ain't ever pumped 'dro till you heard 'Shoulder Lean' He know I'm gon' bring it when I bet I'm with his set, that nigga [?] the [?], where you at? Get this scaredy cat a bottle of Ritalin, hollering riffing Slow pussy gotta be kidding The word out, yeah, you the nigga they work with I knew you was providing the names from when we was conversing I told him, I got a lot of spots 'cause I'm trying to gain You know what he say? I should try a different detergent You'll settle for airbags, I need a jet Like I'm selling cheese from TV, I need the aircraft Make the cheddar stretch I mean, I'm hitting every step Shit, Roseanne old man, I'm doing heavy sets Yeah flex, poke your chest make your shirt break Fake Superman, worst shape small desk and some workspace Your Clark Kent [?] rims ain't worth squirt Mase He humble in the jungle, he wouldn't rumble an earthquake He faking, I'm funky with it Fungus with a thousand punches, I be coming up with shit You swear I'm coming down with something See y'all nothing Pump him, get his jaw spread Boston should market this beef, I want the bull's head Long bread, if I can't get broke off, he will Walk with a cane, cause you old dog You ain't no menace to society He Chauncey, sit in the pad mad Pistol whipped 'cause he grabbed half [?] His niggas kick in the pad and the remote then they laugh This look like Lux on his tape, whipping your ass This shit sad, you shoulda stuck to hustling You pack bags I'm bad, you fucking garbage, man you rap trash Who you gon' blast? Who you smoke last nigga? You wouldn't take out takeout, broke-ass nigga You smoke trash nigga Your weed look like parsley I hit that Marley, I dangle 'round the angels like Bargsley Arch, seat back, the Cris' gone like Farley Bangers in the change and the car tunes ain't Archie It ain't a beat I kills later, you weak on the ball Screech Catch me in the cut, if your bob through she fuck 'Cause you can't fuck and I ain't picking up, when the call beep Bitch to smush, she just a nut, Gnarls Barkley She fucking crazy, was never Usher lady Gold digger with some broke nigga that had Busta baby I told Kanye b, "You slip that mickey, to that mouse she ain't a minis" He like "Yo send me these samples" She a bug bunny, like to get her jelly jammed, eff her man Play him on every hand His tool won't fly like Peter Pan And if it did, never land [Round 3: Midwest Miles] Fuck the guns, take it hand-to-hand I fight your ass When it's time to ride this nigga claiming that his license bad I ain't the type to brag but I bust a gun And I be damned if I lose to a faggot-ass nigga that still suck his thumb Your life on the line, you should fucking run I pulled the gun that nigga froze, he's fucking dumb You had a little buzz Lux, what the fuck happened? You in videos shaking your ass more than you are rapping I'm a captain with beams and clips Since that one hot Smack battle, we ain't seen you since I squeeze the fifth with the meanest clip And if I say he's a bitch I mean the shit I hold the shit and I'm truly ill
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