Tekst piosenki
[Round 1: JC]
I used to say it was hard to look at a nigga
And tell who capable of aiming the chrome
But if we both said we sparking
That’s like Martin; they all know you playing Jerome
And I know where you staying Jerome
I’m a cash crook, I can get yo’ stash took
You don’t want your apple in your lap
Then when I air MACs book
I mean image ain’t everything right?
But you know we’re close to tuck
What you got, a couple schemes and some slow it downs?
Nigga you rap slow enough
See you the type we can tell fronting, I got hell crumpling
This Training Day, I see anything or smell something
We clappin birds like Denzel coming
So nigga talk or sit the fuck down
If you ain’t trying to get involved
Cuz I will drop this fag with one shot till the chin chilla soft
Now wait, we all heard Ciddy say that right?
He said it cuz a chinchilla soft
I said it cuz the chin on Chilla soft and we all know Chilla soft
Nobody feeling Chilla but Chilla feel he the realest out
Cuz he spit filler but that shot to chilla chin gonna knock the filling outta Chilla mouth
Let’s pop it. See you gotta convince these real niggas that you a real nigga and the best way to do that, be real nigga
So let me guess: you got rocks to move?
You sell it? You on the block with tools?
Armed with Glocks to shoot? Stop it!
For profit you seem like you would drop some dudes names
In this game try to tell them knuckles leave him balled up
Like when Sonic boost
Or I could make a phone call
Get this lame fag murked, bang metal like a train crash
I bang mags, let that thang blast
Hit niggas and the clip bigger if I aim bad
See in my own eyes I done noticed the top spot get rusty
So I’m cocky cuz ain’t enough niggas to stop me, trust me
Plus you do minimal damage, b
I mean damn it’s me the fans’ll see beef
I’ll let hammers speak, we all know Boston can’t handle Heat
So once that chrome spit, his dome split
I’m a boss, ten’ll leave his bean baked in a box
Since he homesick
Now why everytime a nigga gets close to another nigga
He gets certified for acting tough
But what about that other nigga that don’t budge cuz he already know the nigga acting tough
I’ma tell this fag actor once
Get out of line, pass or bump
I’ma react with the fastest punch
They ain’t gon’ have no choice but to turn this bitch from Smack to Snuff
You just lost round 1…
[Round 1: Chilla Jones]
I rap depressing and lack agression, right?
Simple. Well I punch nice as Kimbo
Homie you wanna bet? It’s curtains
I bring pain if you try and win dough
You couldn’t duck these bars and now your life’s in limbo
See my men so un-fucking-stoppable, that when I tell ’em bring heat to the crib he in it’s nothing tropical
The topic though, I belong in every top five
But since you close to the Motor City, I’ll show you I got drive
My shorty hood with junk in her trunk the flair concealed
With a silence to muffle her sound so break if she air the steel
So don’t bump her, look near her grill
And forget her number
Trying to ask’ll offend her more than staring will
She get a tonic and gin, then when it’s gone and expired
I’ll spoil her with the D-cal, til she’s exhausted and tired
You rep Pontiac on that G shit, but you don’t own a gun liar
So I’ma give this G six for ya’ll thinking that son fire
And here’s why you ain’t a punchliner
Cuz vs Time Bomb you said „When I come around that jazz go out the window, nigga I’m Uncle Phil”
But using bars like that against me, and you’ll be done for
From what I’ve seen, jazz be getting thrown out the front door
So why would you say window?
This reason makes the best sense
You from the glove right? So you never seen fresh prints
He stepped tense, what it is then G, I’m real too
Them slimes keep one mag yet scum bag with that steal too
So act filthy rich or talk grimy they’ll kill you
That’s for a stack dirty, so imagine what a mil do
See children created the rules, I’m a straight threat
You beat Raw, now you thinking you ill? Well I’m the AIDS test
I’m on my bean town shit, cover his eyes to squeeze the pump on his tongue like Dee Brown kicks
Let’s cut the clown shit, Carter you’ll do anything for big bills
Vince in his prime; he wanna fast break to win mils
But I heard you down with Battle America, no promo
But for a belt and some kicks
He’ll do what ever sin say like a dojo
Boston!
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