JC vs. Chilla Jones [Lyrics]

[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 say we sparking, that’s like Martin
They all know you playing Jerome and I know where you staying Jerome
I’m a cash crook you can get ya stash took
You don’t want ya APPLE in ya lap when I air MAC’S
Book, I mean image ain’t everything right?
But you nowhere close to tough
What you got a couple schemes and some slow it down’s?
Nigga, you rap slow enough, but see you the type we could tell frontin’
I got hell crumbling, it’s 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
I’ll drop this fag with one punch til 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 like he the realist out cuz he spit filler
But that shot to Chilla chin gon 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
Let me guess, you got rocks to move, you sell it
You on a block with tools armed with glocks that shoot
Stop it! For profit, you seem like you’ll drop some dudes names
In this game try to tell (Tails)
And them knuckles will 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 thing blast
Hit niggas, and the clip bigger if I aim bad
See my old eyes I notice 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 will see, beef, I let hammers speak
We all know Boston can’t handle Heat
So once that chrome spit his dome split I’m a boss
Ten (Boston) will leave his bean baked in a box since he home sick
Now why every time a nigga get close to another nigga
He get certified for acting tough?
Well what about the other nigga that don’t budge
Cuz he already know the nigga acting tough
I’m a tell this fag actor once, get out of line pass or bump
I’m a react with the fastest punch
They aint 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 aggression right? Simple
Well I punch nice as Kimbo, homie you wanna bet? It’s curtains
I bring pain (pane) if you try and win dough (window)
You couldn’t duck these bars and now ya life’s in limbo
See my men so unfucking stoppable
That when I tell him bring heat to the crib he in (Carribean)
It’s nothing tropical
The topic tho, I belong in every top 5
But since you close to the Motor City, I’ll show you I got DRIVE
My shorty HOOD with junk in her TRUNK
The flare concealed with a silence to MUFFLE(R) a sound
So break (BRAKE) if she air the steel
So don’t bump her (bumper), look near her GRILL, and forget her number
Trying to ask will (AXLE) offend her (FENDER)
More than staring will (STEERING WHEEL)
She get her tonic and gin (ENGINE) then when it’s gone and expired
I spoil her (SPOILER) with the D Cal (Decal)
Til she EXHAUSTED and tired (TIRE)
You rep Pontiac on that G shit but you don’t own a gun liar
So I’m a give G 6 (G6) for thinking that son fire (Sunfire)
And here’s why you ain’t a punchliner cuz versus 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 seen Jazz be getting thrown out from the front door
So why would you say window? Well this reason makes the best sense
You’re from the glove right? So you never seen fresh prints (Fresh Prince)
He step tense, well what it is then G?
I’m real too, them SLIMES keep one MAG
Get SCUM bagged with that steel too
So act FILTHY rich or talk GRIMEY they’ll kill you, that’s for a stack DIRTY
So imagine what a mil do (MILDEW)?
See Chill too creative to lose, I’m a straight threat
You beat Raw now they 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 D-Brown kicks
Let’s cut the clown shit Carter, you’ll do anything for big bills
Vince in his prime he want a fast break to wind mills
But I heard you down with battle America, no promo
But for a belt and some kicks, he’ll do whatever sin say like a Dojo
Boss Town…

[Round 2: JC]

I hate all your fucking schemes
Let me slow it down, I hate all your fucking schemes
You do exactly what I think you gon do and y’all just took another hit
Feel how y’all feel about Chilla, I just think y’all booked another bitch
Cuz when they want a nigga to kill, I’m the crook they come and get
Cuz like that hoe on don’t be a menace, I be cooking up some shit
Now y’all don’t even know who y’all stepping to
You realize I can do anything y’all come up with? Better too
He wifed a bitch off FACEBOOK now I bet you gon regret it too
Cuz she just trying to get POKED so she’ll net work (NETWORK)
Til we all get F in blue
Now look, y’all get that cuz the F icon is in a blue box right?
That’s how I’d do it
We all know his type, this faggot will keep going like
I hit her on TWITTER got at his BM thru a DM and that bird blew (blue)
Now regardless of how black plan it (Black Planet), we mob nigga
Violate my space (Myspace)
And he’ll always have to watch his back like Tom picture
See that’s Chilla, the Boston battle scene is the worst thing poppin’
You play for the worst team and you the 3rd string option
You getting yo ass whooped and everybody on the first team watching
Bitch we clap hammers here, Batman premiere
That clip release got at least 13 droppin’
Now I watch URL often so I know ya quotes
And you told cash death will come in 3’s
So that’s exactly what I hope you wrote
See these niggas let anybody approach ‘em
We approach with toast send him home to coach
Til the Doc off the rivers hope them hoes can float
There won’t be shit left to disclose your ghost
Hit plenty more
Them acting bitch gon need Demi Moore to disclose your ghost
Look, death come I 3’s and now Demi Moore got 2 movies
Disclosure and Ghost, get it? Disclose your ghost
Moral of the story is get this close you’re ghost
It’s an honor for you to meet me, I’m the next problem
Run to ya crib, pop ya mom, I’m ya step father
Drop Jones in this ring, remind him of when he met Tarver
I’m a new nigga, fresh lines but not one nigga ahead got cut like me
I got the best barber
You trying to graduate but I make that test harder
Going bar for bar for respect, I kill niggas
That lead pop, Red Foxx, I’m putting arms to his chest
Now the fans can make it a classic
But the rest of you and ya mans debating
Cuz you see thru, I see you, sacrificial laminated
I said you see thru, I seen you as a sacrificial lamb and ate it
Easy! You just lost round 2 nigga…

[Round 2: Chilla Jones]

You could do what I could do that shit right there of clowning Chilla
Well I can do what you can do
But I don’t have room in my rounds for filler
You cocky but let’s admit it, ya brain is really gone cuz
You thinkin you can stop me bro? He must be on DRUGS
Think about it, he hoping his career gonna blow with SMACK
The first battle we seen from him, he was smoking CRACK
Eventually he had RAW and he was dope with that
But COKE is back these lines trying to keep they nose intact
You just SOUR cuz Factor got a lot more respect in me
Well since you feeling yourself, I gotta kill you for X to see (ECSTASY)
I clap shots so when you reach heaven
You can rep ya team in the skies (disguise) like a mascot (mask got)
Cats thought I’d give this coward a chance, I tell my guys pull
Close range, tower in France you’ll get an eye full (Eiffel)
But speaking of France
Ya ex is from Paris they should’ve told you bout ya last wife
We used to record her, shit we made a flick last night
She keep a tube of (TUBA) K, why? (KY) She the take it in the ass type
She French hoe and (horn) trust me whoever BAG PIPES
Off the base (BASS) you be mad hype, they like be calm bro
But you didn’t so they banned yo (BANJO) ass from going
Where the bong goes (BONGO)
Steal a P & O (Piano) or dub sacks (SAX) and watch that war begin
If we don’t get to our (GUITAR) loot
Than we shoot up that Accord he in (Accordion)
I snuck that 40 in, we DRUM sets, firing
I’ll punch thru son chest hit his ORGANS and get violent (Violin)
Til there’s bruises on this square and he loses all type of air
Then when they pronounce him dead it’ll be MUSIC to my ears
But if he survive I grab the knife and poke some holes in his top
While he in that hospital bed than his post gonna stop
They saying breathe… breathe… but he froze in a shock
Like a Celtics player now you getting coached by the Doc, STOP!
See this? This the try me face you’ll get your life erased
Pencil style, like a stencil how ya body trace
If I peek inside that jeep you drive and I see papes
I’m a follow you with that chopper like a high speed chase
I need space for JC right? Mr. ain’t lose a round?
Against Mr. jump from top tier to the proving grounds?
You understanding? What I fire I call Mariah
What I carry gon get you broke up if I dump the cannon
Boss town!

[Round 3: JC]

In my first two rounds I showed y’all it was easy to do what they do
That’s how the game go, but what type of nigga would I be
If I ain’t give you the nigga you paid for?
I been too nice, hopefully ya supporters can keep you clothed and fed
It’s my turn to spit my permanent casket closes beds
What y’all thought there was more to this? Honestly?
This, boy we bout to send this bitch back packing on some Dora shit
What you gon flip and spazz out? Bitch don’t try us
There’s four niggas in each car with about 6 more riders
We heavy armed like Precious, extend more fire
The wrong turn? The yak all in ya backseat I’m pinky limo drivers
Glocks out, car jack, hop out, take me to this bitch set
I’m trying to get his whole strip wet, he was cruising til his ship wrecked
Hit me you gon get hit next
Stomp him but leave him choices, Timbaland or Nike?
Face the tree or get chin checked
And won’t no nigga miss him cuz he not sick
Ignore all this nigga’s symptoms
I catch Chilla chillin’ that 5th clap
Boy that bitch kick back like it’s Chillin with him
I hope you and ya bitch get a sweet start
I’m a off ya name cuz I got street smarts
Cuz I’m a street star like the walk of fame, hawk the brain
You’ll catch a shell for nothing, you can tell he frontin’
That long nose could probably shoot Homer head out the barrel of it
Boy all this real shit, that ain’t you
You ain’t make money it made you and you let it change you
Cuz to get ahead (a head) you flip and tell (tail) that’s what change do
I will get this boy chalked, snatch him and his boy heart
When that tech scream leave a wet scene cuz like Seth Green
I make toys talk
Massachusetts that’s my destination, his Boston home
Took him off that same pillow he was talking on
But it was witnesses outside we had to plug a few screams
It’s nothing new, it’s actually become a comfortable thing
See it’s niggas with switchblades, you get cut if you seen
I edit the whole block, extend a few clips just to cut a few scenes
You a bitch that’s why we laugh cuzzin, every nigga out my class stunin’
Cuz that’s something
This nigga front like Rosa Park we send him back bussin!
You thought you was winning? Never
I’m a sore loser, I lose you leave sore these niggas with whatever
I’m Tim T with that shotgun but my precision better
Or I call my nigga Beasy
And that twelve will let loose one pump like Cinderella
Now let me let y’all know how this tragedy end, I wanna go get drunk
And I asked Norbes if we could do this battle
We not on PG so don’t ask me again
And I never feel like I lost
But unless it’s a clear 3-0 bodybag no one actually wins
Now as far as this nigga, I’m deleting his number
You Tom Myspace having ass nigga
This does not mean we automatically friends
You just lost the battle nigga…

[Round 3: Chilla Jones]

The TOTAL be 2 K’s (B2K) we handle mac’s well (Maxwell) and clap heat
So when C a (Ciara) round what I’m aiming
Will leave ya baby face (Babyface) on that black street (Blackstreet)
But you like battle rap SILK cuz them bars you be spittin’ soft
Soon as I sat in (Satin) the chair to write this nigga lost
They perSUADE you to get caught in this trap, no gettin’ off
I will dead him (Denim) for nothing I’m cut from a different CLOTH
See this a loss you should’ve planned for
But we all know you’re good with defeat (the feet)
We all seen you on the dance floor
But before I say fuck JC and everything he stand for
I’m a just talk about what else them letters JC could stand for
Jones chillin, Jordans clean, taking shots of Jose Cuervo
He’s a joke cuz he be just crumpin like a mafuckin’ weirdo
If he jump crump, try to shoot me with heaters
He getting jigged, chopped
Jugular cut with a blade in his back like he Julius Caesar
But let’s be precise you ain’t like Caesar to be the type
The fans think you walk on water I guess you Jesus Christ
That’s what you selling? Well we don’t buy bull, we’re just to real to pay
You dating Jaz, well even if you in that Virgin Mary I still feel you gay
Yo heater outside my scouts ride before that fire arm will get in
I’ll impale you J so cross me with that hammer
I’ll spin Julian in reverse and nail u J
That’s crucifixion; if you knew religion you would get the lesson
But since I got you here my nigga I got a big confession
I’m the one ya chick is pressin’
She be out here dick hopping every Sunday
She hit me and we get shit poppin’
I scream when she go nuts on my jimmy without a lip stoppin’
She a dairy queen that’s why I got her in my whip toppin’
That clip poppin’ one word
And watch them goons be getting the shooting
Rob Julian for every fucking Jewel he in
I hate calling you Julian, it doesn’t fit you truly
So I ain’t calling you Julian I’m a call you July
Now as far as battle rap in the bean, I’m the king
If you took my crown July, you’d be queen of the ring
But them dwellers and misfits (Ms. Fit) ain’t with all that Jazz (Jaz) July
With that 40 (40 Barrs) I’m precise (Precyse) with better aim than a QB
Bullets rang if they miss murk (Ms. Murk) up the hall
Better hustle (Ms. Hustle) or they abusing you
See you’re a star with the heart to flow
But I know you fear a funeral (Phara Funeral)
Remorse is rare and unusual, against hood policies
I came to turn ya sorry ass gang into a pile of G’s (apologies)
So where you from? Wait, J. Dilla and Proof state?
Well I’m a son you here let me reverse that and run thru clear
I hear you son but state proof that you a dealer j
They get weight from you, where?
I had it backwards and ran them words back fucking bezerk
So tell M. Ciddy that’s how you punch in reverse
You just lost the battle…

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2 thoughts on “JC vs. Chilla Jones [Lyrics]

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