Charlie Clips vs. Serius Jones [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Charlie Clips]

Charlie Clips versus Jones, nah this can’t be serious
Where’s the nigga that battled Mook and Jin? This him?
Nah this can’t be Serius
Damn homie… in Fight Klub you was the man homie
What the fuck happened to you? I’ll tell you
See what happened is you lost ya deal with Disturbing Tha Peace
So niggas take ya career as a fucking joke
You claim you made over 200 racks, but now you back on Smack
Either you confused or you fucking broke
Mook kilt you, made Harlem hot
Ludacris dropped you made all the sponsors stop
Are you gonna tell these fans what kind of job you got?
Are you gon tell ‘em you the man… at the barbershop?
Serius is a Barber, no I’m serious, he’s a Barber
And Smack you knew that, so this shit you doing to me ain’t fuckin fair
Cuz how the first Summer Madness I get a nigga with a perm
Now you get me the nigga that might’ve cut his hair
Y’all got the nerve to say we similar, I’m a genius, one of the meanest
He cut hair, I get ‘em cut here, let me explain the difference between us
See when my fiends want the work, I scream, “GET IN LINE!”
Then I hit ‘em with the powder on the wet
When you at work you scream, “WHO NEED A LINE!?”
Then at the end you put powder on they neck
When I run up with them clippers
It’s no questions I’m just ready to blast tools
When he run up with the clippers it’s, “YO! You want the fade?
Or you want the fade with the half moon?”
You can’t be serious, Serius, I remember when ya buzz was about this tall
You left battle rap to become a Barber, now ya buzz is this small
You freestyle and fuck up hairlines
How you let ya career take that big fall?
I understand you love the Clippers
But what’s the point if you ain’t Chris Paul?
You don’t be at the bar pouring alcohol on bitches, making women holla
You be at the bar…ber shop
Pouring alcohol on niggas like, “that’ll be 20 dollars”
You like, “with all this barbershop guap
I could put you and my all customers in a Jag”
Nigga 90% of Jersey got dreads, what customers do you have?
What am I supposed to believe?
You retired from battle rap to get all this barbershop cake?
What you be in the club with wild hair in ya pocket
And a Burberry barber shop cape
Aight, aight, aight, aight, that’s enough
I got love for all my niggas that’s in the barbershop folks
I just figured I could help him shape up with a few barbershop jokes
But how’s ya old bitch doing, Jones? He still think that his ex hot
Don’t nobody wanna fuck her, but she do give out the best top
He the type to know she on her period and still try to get in his ex twat
We was taught if you see that red ring to don’t play with ya (e)X-Box
But let’s say he get that bitch pregnant
And he teaching his little man on how to Jam C
I’ma shoot his stroller but if I missed the carriage/miscarriage
I got a plan B
No lie, the perfect goal, rewind time before he work the hole
Kill him before he get her pregnant, that’s birth control
You ain’t trying to die baby, I suggest you watch yo mouth nigga
Or the morning after you gon have to peel/pill, that mean be out nigga
You said you was a runaway and that Mook was a house nigga
Well before you run away let me take a trip to yo house nigga
Let’s see if y’all could guess which room I’m in
I’ma give you and ya boys hits, I’ma shower you with some bars
That leave you and ya boys pissed
I started shooting up ya car
You better sink when I’m getting that toy lit/toilet
When this 9 take a dump you won’t get to enjoy shit
Now y’all know what room I’m in, so I can throw the tech in his mouth
Kill this piece of shit in the bathroom
And then drag him thru the rest of the house
Now you know what room I’m in? You don’t know?
Well here’s a little reminder, I could shoot ya sister
But I’ma let my arm rest and have this hook recliner her
I’m comfortable like a LoveSeat when I’m strapped with two arms
I pull out and make everybody sleep, it’s like a Futon
I told his uncle to move on, but he ain’t move he took the thug route
So for lamping to long I got my clap on and blew his bulb out
Now you know what room I’m in? Now I’ma throw the tech in ya mouth
Since nobody living in that room
Let me drag you thru the rest of the house
Me and ya aunt had an encounter
I grabbed her by her head I was getting ready to off it
The sink was running hot but I ain’t really wanna force it/faucet
I thought about grabbing the knife having my hand poking her
But why? When I can draw and just have this can open her/opener
Now y’all know what room I’m in, I can throw the tech in his mouth
Ya house too small, I can’t go thru the rest of ya house
I can’t believe you the nigga they brung back to take my title, clown
If you don’t win this then it’s over cuz this my lightest round
You could try that freestyle shit Jones, but it don’t work here
If you freestyle about the barbershop
Then it hurt and you really work there
So since you a barber here’s a little advice you can use in ya spare time
That freestyling won’t cut it, they bought tickets to hear lines/hairlines

[Round 1: Serius Jones]

Ayo y’all know me, it’s been a minute but off the top I dismantle shit
Yeah, 9 years ago I was a barber so you know I know how to handle Clips
Awwhhh! You motherfuckers! This how I came up
But this what it come down to? Shit, I’ll put the gun down
But do I gotta give y’all the rundown of who I punk rounds thru?
Well besides the fact I’m 32-1 now, turned Jin to Kung Pow Stew
Sonned out Mook, CH a bum now too
Well they said, “well give a new nigga a shot”
Got Clips loaded so now I gotta gun down you?!
Well dot on ya head, dot on ya gun, dot on ya pants, dot on ya shirt
What? Them bars was pure fire?
That’s what they got the Dot Mob? Well let’s call it what it is people
The Harlem Boys Choir
See they tried to sic them adlibs on me, but I’m classic doggy
Them elaborate stories, nobody was doing that in battle rap before me
That’s why Smack know he needed these racks
For him to pick up the jack to call me
Nobody asked for Charlie, they gassed you Charlie
I asked for the rematch with Mook, he declined and battled Iron
And see that’s just corny
And that proves I’m the master doggy
And I’ll whip all these niggas’ ass til it look as bad as Denzel back in Glory
I’m bout to get gory on this cat cuz you ain’t even in my category
See when I was riding on Twinkies, you was walking around eating ‘em
When I had twins in the bed, that was the size bed you was still sleepin in
When I was riding for this culture with companies on national television
You couldn’t even watch battles with company
Without asking ya grandmas permission
When I was that nigga that you knew from Smack
You been working out for 30 years and guess what, ya still fat
When I got signed for 5 mil with my deal shit started getting a lil heavy
But shit got heavy for you too cuz you must got signed to Little Debbie
So when I became the illest rapper alive in 2005
You started wearing a jean size 45 so I guess you could say
We blew up at the same damn time
See it’s some reality nigga that bars can’t save
See, I said there’s some reality nigga that bars can’t save
See them niggas ain’t know how to throw the book at you
But I know how to read a nigga
So let’s both get on the same god damn page
You graduated from Washington Irving in 2001
But you acting young on this goddamn stage?
You mean to tell me you had 4 battles, 2 mixtapes, no deal
And we the same god damn age?!
One thing I hate is a fake/young nigga
Cuz if he played in the era with the legends
He would’ve been on that timba catching splinters
We call ‘em ringers, you’d rather play with the kids than be a winner
I bet you play the block at a 14 and under summer league
Right now as a center
Nigga, I got paid in 100 cities, I just came back from Europe touring
So I’m learning, “Fick Dich Ihm”
That’s how you say fuck this nigga in German
Clips, you fucking around but you coming short
You’d probably procreate a midget
See before I get into ya phony gangsta image
Let’s just expose the basic gimmick and your approach to makin lyrics
All you do is study another nigga’s bars, saying “you said”
Take his flow and try to flip it
Or come up with one theme and then say every word you can think of
That’s associated with it
See they don’t know his tactics, that’s why I’ma give Clips a clip full
And every time he do it from now on, I’ma give y’all the signal
See I know he said I got dropped from my label
But so did the whole label and I got paid tho
But ain’t no labels that feel you, but just in case there is
I’ll kill that while I use labels to kill you
See now I got Cash Money since a Baby so Lil Chuckee take it easy
Cuz I make cakes like Drakes and have Minaj’s/ménages till I’m Weezy
I’ll D-Block ya Styles I’m like a Sheek from my Roc
Kiss Tha Game Goodbye, one shot to ya door will break up the LOX/locks
Ya set DIPPED on you
Cuz you was suckin Killa on Cam, but never dropped Jewels/Juelz
They Jay’d him then Dashed on his Dame
Cuz the whole NATION know that he don’t own that ROC he sells
And when we can’t hear Clips that’s a Def Jam
That mean my pistol get to smoke
And the Aftermath bout to be way more than Shady
Cuz now you in a scope/Interscope, let’s go!

[Round 2: Charlie Clips]

Sweetheart, let me ask you a question right
If I asked you to put this ring card down
Would you come over here and touch him?
He said he was signed to a label before, would you still fuck him?
Now see you pulling her
Now all that’s doing is gonna make this tech spark
Hit ya stomach now both of y’all can share those stretch marks
Aye Goodz, this exactly what you mean nigga
But this ain’t one of them skinny legs
This one of them dirty sweatpants Pelle Pelle jean niggas
You got dropped and you lost some weight
I think it’s time for you to come clean nigga
I’m not saying you a crackhead
But losing weight and getting back on Smack, well that’s a fiend nigga
You was sleeping on me Jones
So tell me what happened in that dream nigga
Was the fans cheering you on? Oh they was calling you the king nigga?
Well I’ma walk you up to VIP and then dot you with that beam nigga
Cuz if history repeats itself
Then the balcony is where the king loses his dream nigga
And you right, you did lose ya deal with Luda
What happened? Y’all got into an argument and you called him a bama?
That’s crazy I thought it was all love and hip hop down in Atlanta
Well ain’t no love and hip hop with me and you
So don’t start feeling a lil happy
Cuz one of these will give you that Stevie J face if you feelin a Lil Scrappy
That .38 my side bitch, named her Joseline, that ratchet mean
That K sing like Michelle, hit a note at you and ya faggot team
See I’m something like Benzino
I’m not trying to say that every rapper’s mean
But ya source should’ve warned you, I’m more known for a magazine
Good thing we ain’t putting no bread on this battle Jones
Cuz on the real you would’ve lost the bet
Jersey can’t beat New York for shit, no lie we done off’d the best
I mean the Rangers kill the Devils
We own the Giants and of course the Jets
You Jersey niggas don’t win shit, you even lost the Nets
Don’t get it twisted I got wild love for Jersey
Like I think, Surf, Shotgun and Arsonal beat ya
I said them bullets Surf when that Shotgun speak
And that Arsonal heat ya
My chrome black, it got Shotgun feet and Arsonal sneakers
I rip ya soul/sole like Shotgun feet in Arsonal’s sneakers
See that’s what you call wordplay Jones, no lie you need to get you some
Leave you dead in the middle of- man, I’ma different Pun
My chrome crap no iPhone app, I got a different gun
Think it’s a game til I hit the side of ya temple and make ya temple run
All you do is write me on Twitter from the AM to the PM
Cuz I’m @ ya girl box but you don’t see it like a DM
Oh what you mad I got bread and it’s a verified amount?
I’ma nigga that blue/blew checks with no verified account
You run around telling lies, telling niggas how you lost ya deal
Now you back in battle rap, spread love all across the field
When John John used ya multiple choice scheme
You got mad, I mean of course it’s real
So let’s do the multiple choice scheme on how you lost ya deal
Is it A) Luda dropped you cuz he found out you ain’t a thug
Is it B) you mad at Shawnna she ain’t wanna give you hugs
Is it C) Tity Boy turned 2 Chainz and wouldn’t show you love
Nigga this is yo scheme, you know it’s all of the above
But now you balling like a scrub, I remember the word on the street
“Serius Jones got a deal” I’m like word? He a beast
I was waiting for ya album to drop, but Luda pushed it to a further release
So Busta…
How a nigga with no noise get dropped from Disturbing Tha Peace?
I guess he told you to Stand Up! But you wasn’t goin in ya bag
He tried to put you in other area codes
But you wasn’t growing with ya swag
So he told you to Move Bitch! You wasn’t zoning with ya pad
Then took ya contract and told you to Blow It Out Ya Ass!
That freestyle shit is trash, they paid money to hear bars nigga
Oh I get I, you think I’m Hamilton, well you got the wrong Charles nigga
See that Charles love pink, see this Charles love shells
See that Charles love peace, see this Charles love jail
See that Charles love heaven, this Charles love hell
See that Charles love Sonic, this Charles love Tail
Now that was just a lil jokey shit
I had to hit y’all with 30 seconds of some Charles shit
But let me get back to Charlie Clips
You know what I do, you know that BAR shit
I know you looking at my squad
I guess you thinking that my block is calm til that blade out
And you’ll get ate (8) baby, OctoMom
I don’t wanna hear about ya gun and how you clap it
And keep a glock in palm or when ya knife is out
Cuz you don’t give slices out, you Papa Johns
And this is what y’all niggas call an icon? Well y’all gon get his chest shot
I’ma use the MAC to leave this ICON on this DESKTOP
I’m soft? Where? (Software)
Til I run in ya WINDOWS and you lose ya dome
I ain’t stumble, I was just getting to GOOGLE CHROME
Now that COMPUTER scheme, let me BACKSPACE no lie that was all wack
But what I’m saying is if you don’t have my PC, I’m bringing all MACS
I wanna make ya body SHIFT but I know you running with all RATS
So to catch a LOWERCASE I’ma give you all CAPS
I wear Prada you wear Rocawear, you hot? But not in here
You ugly fuck… DNA
(Y’all know my slogan, GET EM THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!!!)

[Round 2: Serius Jones]

You god damn right I put on for Jersey, so we don’t need a team
If ya name was Coretta, you still couldn’t fuck with the King
I don’t know no real niggas that know this nigga in real life
So I hired a private investigator, this freak bitch I call her Dick Tracey
And y’all will not believe the information this bitch gave me
So I don’t gotta spit a bunch of nonsense and all kind of jokes
See all I’ma quote is the contents of this envelope
See ya government name, ya social, I ain’t gotta give ‘em all that shit
But ya annual income was less that 10 sum
And ya mom still claiming you on her taxes
See you the type of nigga to get fired from Chick-Fil-A
Not because you could fuck up some chicken
But because they had suspicion that you was in the kitchen
With an employee giving new definition to the term entry-level position
And ya bitch is a dirty battle rapper from the Bronx, Ash Cash
Wow, well Ash is trash, lyrically and physically
It’s probably roaches in that bitch perm
You look like Brian Pumper, so what’s she? Montana?
Cuz everybody know her Fishburne
Since ya bitch is a battle rapper, what y’all be battling in the bed?
What she plays Ms. Hustle? What you act like O Red?
So when we say the Lenox Ave beast
It’s obvious we ain’t talking bout ya mixtape
Cuz now that we know that you playing with them kids
It don’t even matter what ya pen states (Penn State)
I called Trace on 3 way, told her call Clips
They say “aye, can I speak to Clips?” they say, who he?”
They say, “Oh, Charlie, excuse me…” they say, “Oh, you mean Bootsie!”
I said, “Bootsie?!” No that can’t be who you be
They said, “Charlie Clips the battle rapper, you know
That carries the Uzi’s saying that he shoots G’s
And sold more crack then Pookie
They said, “you know who I’m talking about right?”
Ya mom said, “absolutely! Well he’s (?) to movies
And round here we don’t call him that, it’s Bootsie
Bootsie?! That’s ya name my nigga?
My name is Salim, it’s Muslim and Farrakhan ain’t smacking my Kufi
When I was 9 Sadaam should’ve flew from Iraq to recruit me
And I got 2 long noses call ‘em X-Factor and Mookie
And I ain’t never met a trapper, a rapper
Or a battle rapper named Bootsie
Well if your name is Bootsie, it don’t even matter if he’s so lyrical
Cuz if you don’t pop in rap, I guess you could sing Negro spirituals
From what you said in the Ayeverb battle
You called ya grandmoms when it’s over
The way she raised ya mama must’ve been wrong
Cuz when she was 9 months pregnant
She would have long dongs all in her thong
So it don’t matter if you use niggas all in ya songs
Cuz technically you been on other niggas dicks even before you was born
It don’t even matter if you had long schlongs all in her thong
Cuz obviously you had on niggas dicks since before you was born
See and ya lil brother played for Utah huh?
He running the point, only thing you run is ya dick suckers
And even though Brian Pumper spits gutter
It’s hard to respect it when we look at ya DNA
All ya lil brothers become ya big brothers
See growing up I was so tough I thought my hood wasn’t hood enough
But the (?) have niggas dying, brothers cooking up
But you know why I know why ya millies don’t flame?
Cuz all ya gun lines come from sports and video games
Get money, that’s what I know Harlem niggas to do
But see I followed the Blueprint of AZ, Rich and them dudes
But you? You wasn’t around when them pounds broke down
When them pigeons that flew
You lost to Big T’s and even ya Religions ain’t Tru(e)
See it’s been 4 battles we ain’t even seen a fitted that’s new
Meanwhile I got the Benz, Range, bitches, the jewels
So you might as well move to the Bronx
And get a job sweeping shit in the Zoo
Cuz I’m a Jersey nigga but I’m still more of a Harlem nigga than you
See my criminal records is extensive, gun cases, moving Piff
You know, some assault a loser foolishness
Unfortunate you can Google it, but Google you and nothing of you exists
So the conclusion is, you just named yourself Clips
You don’t use them shits
Nigga you don’t move weight and you ain’t losing it, weight that is
Why am I the underdog and y’all fronting? I’m over it, fake that is
They gon have to use Ayeverb’s perm to replace ya wig
Ya mom’s tripping at the wake, “That ain’t my kid!
I don’t even know who face that is!”
Nigga I’ll smack ya saggy beard til my hands get calluses
Choke ya Turkey neck until you whiter than Jimmy Fallon is
Pull out the techs and make Summer Madness highly (?)
Say goodbye to ya movement let me walk you thru paralysis
See you trippin thinking I wasn’t gonna trip off you, Bootsie!
That 2nd round was a lil shaky, but I’ma get back to you 3rd nigga
BOOTSIE!

[Round 3: Charlie Clips]

Don’t throw nothing on the stage, I ain’t gon lie that’s true Smack
But did you hear this nigga last round?
What you want them to do Smack?
You tried to say the nickname my mom’s gave me like that shit hurt
My name Bootsie and I don’t pitch crills or I don’t let that tech dance
No matter what my fucking name is, I will never wear them sweatpants
And you claim you getting money?
Since you talking I mean, what y’all wanna do nigga?
He can’t be getting money
If this the same chain he wore against Mook nigga
This nigga is a wine cooler, fact mac we sip cognac
This nigga ain’t fresh, we wear these to the Laundromat
My nigga, I mean what are you pointing at?
Are you pointing at my gun? Are you gon crack mad fat jokes
Now you gon tell me I need to run
Are you gon tell me that I’m running out of breath?
Are you gon tell me that I’m Pun?
Nigga I don’t give a fuck what you say, you know what, fuck it I’m done
Sike! I lied nigga! I caught you stupid, you almost died nigga
Me fuck up? Not even if I tried nigga
But I’ma tell you something right now, right
Let me get real serious and talk to my bredrin
I need y’all to hear me for 5 minutes
I’ma question him and see if he a legend
Now I know a lot of y’all paid money right now so y’all can hear bars
Just do me one second, be quiet cuz what I’ma say is pretty hard
So what I’ma try to tell y’all is I need a second to breathe
If you not a real nigga that don’t like real nigga shit
There’s the door, you can leave
What happened to them 12 imaginary battles you had at Fight Klub?
That nobody in the world would ever get to see
The only niggas that knew you had them battles
Is ya mother and International P
You battled Jin, CH and Mook, only won 2 out of 3
So how is Serius Jones really a legend? See this is what’s confusing me
See what’s really ya claim to fame Jones?
I know it ain’t come from defeating Jin
Cuz outside of 106 & Park, we all knew that’d be an easy win
You battled a Chinese nigga with Chinese jokes
In a room full of black people
That’s like Big T battling a skinny nigga in a room full of fat people
But I do give you credit cuz against Jin and H you was snapping
But then you met Murda Mook and we all know what happened
Dot on ya head! Dot on ya leg! Dot on ya chest!
Nah I’m not gon finish, but what I wanna know is
He was spitting some fire shit
You took that battle to heart and you went straight into retirement
Then you asked Smack can you battle me
So now I gotta ask you a question, if he need me to retire
Which one of us is the legend?
I gotta be honest with ya, you my nigga I ain’t gon front I fuck with Smack
But this the shit that get me mad
When they get these wack niggas and have ‘em coming back
I should put this gun to ya sweatpants, make that tech dance
You’ll do a jumping jack
If I don’t get 7 racks after this, I swear to god I ain’t coming back
I be like, see let me tell y’all about this chick named Legend
You see legend is a freak bitch, see Legend slept with Mook & Iron
Here’s a nigga Legend ain’t get to sleep with
See Legend gassed him up like he’s a vet
But Legend told me that he was a rookie, he ain’t ever get to fuck Legend
See Legend ain’t ever give him pussy
You battled in Fight Klub, used the same rounds over and over
And you know that it’s true nigga
So Legend left him and came and got with us new niggas
You don’t know what to do, I’m fucking her I’m getting fame from her
I’m bagging Legend now, me and DNA running a train for her
See what happened is…
You got dropped cuz you couldn’t make no hood music
No, no, no… you got dropped because you couldn’t make GOOD music
See I went to Kanye city, y’all see me out there I was cooking b
See my name Clips(e) so I showed y’all how to Push(a) T
And ya swag is pretty off and you showed me how you was too lame
Cuz against Mook
You tatted a fake necklace on ya black T to have 2 Chainz
My nigga you lame, ya name is Salim not Sean
You could never be BIG buddy
Day N Night you a Legend like John, but they don’t give this Kid CuDi
Now if you follow all those lessons you could see that I’m bombing
I swear to god I’m so glad we got nothing in common
Why you talking to the crowd nigga?
Remember I’m ya understudy, be proud nigga
Oh now you admitting it, that you always been a fag nigga
A fag nigga, run up to you and pull that mag nigga
Nah fuck it.. it’s………… sike I lied nigga! What I look like? That nigga?
Aight I did that on purpose, I’ma tell you a secret between you and me
I choked on purpose
So I can talk to this fat nigga that look like he work for Truancy
See I knew you was gon start booing me, yeah you fucking up tight
Let’s leave this battle ma’, you right here, me and you fucking tonight
Fucking up tight, he got me mad the last round cuz he wack
I’m fucking up tight, Summer Madness it’s over, just fuck it
Just fuck it, goodnight

[Round 3: Serius Jones]

I ain’t gon front, I’m kinda drunk
That last round I kinda flopped my nigga
But you ended your battle like that? Well thanks a lot my nigga
See money ain’t worth shit when you got the heart of a tadpole
And if shit was worth money, you’d probably be born with no asshole
See I’m a black hippy
But it’s them things that money brings see that gets me
You playing that field from running thru this back alley, ask Rickey
So yeah I’m a mac, I teach hoes, like Nino we Jack cities
But see Goldie ain’t what I mean tho
When I say I brought the Mac with me
See since your name is Clips let’s break down the following
You know the actual mechanism
See the barrel cylinder is so the bullet flies with precision
The trigger suspension and the fire independence is like the engine
So what do Clips do? Slide in a butt and hold ammunition
So if we compared gun clips to this fat boy
You don’t own none of the rounds you spit
You hold ‘em for Smack so technically you a pack boy
So it don’t matter what ya aim is
Cuz we can see what trigger’s you to rhyming
Cuz Clips only fire when you find a machine bigger than you to slide in
See I’m the boss, who put Charles in charge? Clips we fire them
And I see that you trying to help the environment
But damn my nigga you love recycling
Reusing the same things, remixing the same lines
Like the controller shit the sun & earth we heard you the first two times
So since all ya rounds come back around like Karma
Charlie Clips? Nah bruh, you Charlie Revolver
Something’s wrong with this equation
And I know for you math is confusing
And I don’t mean the Math that’s so trash
That last time y’all actually booed him
I mean the math that you using
To calculate the numbers my classics is doing
So factor in losing, subtract delusions
Divide ya pride, add some contusions
Now you out ya space, you got a problem
And ain’t no patching in Houston
Cuz when I put them craters on ya moon face
That’s what I call a Proactiv solution
I’m a leader, I crack a pint to a sharp tip
Slice ya Goodz then have half a gallon leaking out ya armpits
I put a gram on a tablespoon; take a 6 inch strap of leather
Choke you, shoot you, then stab you to death with a ruler
Now that’s drastic measures
See how dare you sleep on the king you futon ass nigga
You don’t even register where I shop, cut it out, you coupon ass nigga
So don’t ask me to tag you on Facebook again when I see you in Harlem
Because as you know now I only play tag when I’m sparking
And after I tag ya toe
Don’t make me catch you nowhere other than a coffin
Cuz if I see you in the morgue
I’ll rip off ya toes and rip the tags back off them
See they said he had 4 bodies
I said well some bodies better than no bodies
But if all yo bodies is nobody’s then to a somebody you got no bodies
If I see you on the roof of this building, “jump Clips we got you!”
That’s what I yell at him probably
Cuz even if I decide to save ya life I’m still catching a body
I’m sick nigga, I hit ya prenatal with gage pellets
Nigga I’m so sick I make the creators of AIDS jealous
I’m sick I spit infirmaries in the yard on ‘em
Nigga I’m so sick, even my blood cells got bars on em
So now that you’re a dead rapper and ain’t no way around it
For all the dead rappers watching over us
What you think they have to say about it?
Well Biggie, he be like
“Hughh! He hit that nigga up worse than they hit up me”
Pac‘ll be like, “yeah nigga that’s how you ride on yo enemies!”
Big L would be like, “that nigga ain’t from my block”
Pun will be like, “where y’all at physically, well Clips ain’t do diddidly
And oh shit he left him dead in the little of middle Italy, literally”
See Eazy-E be like, “god damn that nigga sick as me”
Pimp C was so fucked up he passed the lean to ODB
Heavy D was like, “damn, I want Clips to win cuz he big like me
But damn that nigga’s D.E.A….diddly diddly diddly diddly D!”
Ayo I might’ve fucked up the 2nd round, but I just merked you my nigga
You peep that? Well since I sunk ya ship
I turn into the Anchorman and give y’all the recap
“This is Serius Jones reporting live from Summer Madness 2
Where he’ll enjoy a hearty buzz
And now we’ll see he’s all the champion that we thought he was
He hit Clips with a vicious series of brutal attacks
He’s gonna have to go home put some ice on the fat on his back
I ain’t got no slogan, so maybe y’all can help me out so I got it clear
Since it’s a Landslide and it’s a Body Bag then Zip Em Up and..
(GET EM THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!!!)

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