Illmaculate vs. Bigg K [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Bigg K]
I did your man 9D real fucking dirty, that’s why you set this up like this
You handpick your opponents, pre-write all that tough guy shit
And that’s cool but what happened to that footage out in Portland? Somebody cut my shit
Before the 3rd round I told that whole room
Him included, to suck my dick!
True story, I was in your city showing no respect
In the crowd spilling Henny, giving shoulder checks
I would stretch your whole hood like a cobra neck
Punched your fucking face in half and headlock it ‘til the bones connect
This was your idea, I said long as them bills right
We hung out once or twice, bitch I know we ain’t real tight
But how you ask to battle The Saurus, Ness Lee, and 9DM
You know what this feel like?
You set up battles cuz you too pussy to tell people
You don’t like them in real life
When you was in Scribble Jam, I was in state boots and prison tans
We both rap but no wrap, I’m a different man
Real rap, I lift Illmac through a ceiling fan
And drop money on his grill like a dental plan
Let this faggot teeth bang on the concrete
You’re 5’1” I bet your feet hang out the car seat
This right hand knock your ass from Oakland to Long Beach
And you gon’ make it to Smack when your nose and my palm meet
Like hey hater, showstopper, face breaker, throw a haymaker
Wake up a day later with your cap peeled, Mac built like a 8th grader
I will quick-slice your windpipe with a straight razor
You act tough when you rap stuff, play gangster
But you really pussy, that’s fake heart, pacemaker
You come from a nice crib in the ‘burbs with gay neighbor
I was running through the fire and rain like James Taylor
‘Caine slangers, chain yankers, and gangbangers
Fuck a vet, I’m in this spot for my rep, weight trainer
And I ain’t come here to out rap you, just disrespect
So go ahead, spit that nerd shit for all these nerds so I can get my check

[Round 1: Illmaculate]

That shit was good but what everybody’s thinking is
That outfit is flavorful and bright
Right now, everybody’s wondering how bumblebees are capable of flight
I hope you take this personal cuz when he’s focused, he’s incredible
And we’ve all seen the worst in you
When your emotions get the best of you
To me this is a… walk in the park! To him, this is a walk in the plank
For him, this a shot in the dark; but for me, this is a shot in the face
They ask me “where you been?” Staying polished
Meanwhile, a lot of him have came and gone, I’ve remained the hottest
Deregulate the game, Reaganomics, take him hostage
Breaking eggs, making omelet’s, don’t mistake us, pay me homage
You compared a satin to Satan, angel cake to Pagan prophets!
That’s an ominous thought, my style is ungodly
Now you have to ponder the quandary
You got in boxing the combo of Rocky and Ali
This is honestly a body, a homi’, homie, I’m small but you tiny beside me
I’m tall when I hop on the pile of bodies that I leave behind me
You said I was top 5 on your account
I was watching, I saw it, I was like, “aww, he could count”
The respect is mutual except when you alone
With your thoughts in your house
And all that salt in your mouth calling the homie
What was you talking about?
I was talking him up, he thought I was talking him down
I was calling his number to see what he thought of this, now
Fuck it, I’m mopping him up, hauling him out
Calling his number on my list of bodies to count
Instead of *click*, it’s *CLICK*
This the difference between calling you up and calling you out!
One thing I don’t wanna hear in this ring is
“I’m fucking up, go ahead man”
That’s like showing up to a fight and right before you swing, being like, “I’m fucking up, go ahead man”
I got a trick that might help you choke less, fam
Imagine a strap on your temple like an old headband
Soon as you forget your shit then that chrome led blam
Would you show up to a shootout, forget the clip, and be like,
“I’m fucking up, go ahead man”?
He’s used to rapping locally, he does that shit openly
He’s got some shit, he’s above average vocally
But if you can’t remember the raps you wrote for me, battle’s over, Please buy a ticket, leave the ring
And watch from where the fan’s supposed to be

[Round 2: Bigg K]

Now, when you listen to him rap
You’d think he on some Mafia some wise guy shit
But you talk to him after the battle
He talking ‘bout the government and sci-fi shit
How he do research on his computer with like a turbo booster Wi-Fi chip
And in his spare time, he sit up in Or’ getting tie-dye shit
Yeah, you little fucking weirdo, where’d the rest of your beard go?
It looks like your feet shrink every time that your ears grow
See I could rap like that if I wanted to star in this queer show
But let me get back to what the fuck I was here for
That gutter shit, handgun with the rubber grip
I’ll lift your soul to the beam like a mothership
So who you fucking with? Little man, suck a dick
You fragile, I’ll break your shit wearing oven mitts
I keep a level-head in drama, you seem shook
I’m bipolar, NICE jab, MEAN hook
I lift his carcass up one hand like “team, look!”
Then ride around with the body on top of the van, Teen Wolf!
If he a animal, what do you call me?
All it take is two shots, the gun is in arm reach
A Chrome Mac 90 up in your dog teeth
This ill Mac ring twice, that’s WRC’s
But I ain’t giving you props, that’s just a scheme that seem sick
Broken doorbell, your two rings don’t mean shit
I was running to the Booken with a gun up in the hood
You can take them two rings and shove ‘em in your pussy
I said fuck your track record, my shit deeper that rap
I’ma let you talk greasy for two more rounds, but leave it at that
I wanna swing with a bat upside your cheek ‘til it crack
Your chin snap and the impact break a piece of your back
I draw blood for the sport like a Van Damme flick
I’m on the road with these drums, Bandcamp trip
Some shit in the trunk that’ll make a Trans Am flip
Hit this clown with a sweeper on some Sandman shit
I don’t belong in battle rap, I’m in the streets with the crooks
This is where you home cuz you just as sweet as you look
But as long as every time you gotta battle a black guy
You keep getting shook
It’s gon’ be a motherfucker like me that’s gon’ keep getting booked

[Round 2: Illmaculate]

I’ma use one of your slogans ‘cause that last line, that shit’s corny
Losing to a black rapper, well if that’s his story
I don’t think he realizes is he don’t fit in that category
It’s rebuttal time, listen closely and hold me down
I made him cater to me, so what’s your slogan now?
I made him switch his whole style when he wrote these rounds
I thought it was all bars, no personals, act like you know me, clown
I’m tryna get through the pimping ‘cause by the looks of him
He’s got issues with women like a Swimsuit Edition
He’s so forgetful with writtens, I ain’t got a line about this fool in prison
Cuz at least there he can actually get through a sentence
Listen Pesci, you’re unlikeable and you choke a lot
That must make you URL’s Loe then
You must have been high on your debut, but you as URL’s ?
I bet the thought of me murking him, URL’s low then
But this a fight for your life so keep your eyes on the sights (sites)
Like the URL’s loading
Y’all seen the trailer, right? They didn’t put his face in, but the best part?
You should thank them and their blessed hearts
Between the eight chins and the stretch marks
And the customized beard
So it’s clear where his face is and his neck starts
You want a Smack rapper? Here’s what all of ‘em would say
Couldn’t call it with his name if this B.I. acting too (two) G
He’ll get followed with the K
I’ll put him in a bag when I spray and hit whoever
Then keep busting ‘til there’s nothing in the mag
Like the pages stick together
I see him, I start clapping in broad day like
He sees me, he starts clapping the wrong way like…
I may not have a fortune, but at least I don’t have a fourth chin
Now do you wanna battle for ‘em
Or argue with fans some more on battle forums? That shit’s corny
Your hair, you’re not that important, I’m battling my last performance
And look – I ain’t drunk, I still got a leg up on ‘em like Captain Morgan
You said I was nerd rap, right? You said that, them lies you spreading
The Kalashnikov rinse him off, pyrotechnics fall from the sky and wet him
Suppressors would extend the clips like I had a motherfucking rifle fetish
As far as knife collections, mine’s impressive, bioweapons
A pair of Eagles, that Glock-18 like a Barely Legal
Trigger finger give him hypertension
Equipment check, ballistic vest, you final-destined
Our paths intersect, woo! Insert a violent reference
I got that Larkin for a bargain, it’s in the car ‘cause the pound’s light
I got that carbine with a beam when I’m targeting down sights
I made accustomed potato muzzle for that A.R. if a clown might
Hop that fence, that Bullpup’s got a quiet bark and a loud bite!
I can’t wait ‘til my fans hear them bars in the sound bite
But I use that part of the round right
Before you bring up Arsonal
Figured you ought to know what a real arsenal sounds like!

[Round 3: Bigg K]

We in two different lanes, that’s something I found out quick
Cuz you only aggressive when you rap, you just a loud-mouth bitch
You ain’t tall enough to reach my chin if you threw a roundhouse kick
You think all I got is gun bars? So how ‘bout this?
I will smack the shit out you with both hands
You a grown man the size of DJ from Roseanne
Maybe I’m real old-fashioned, but I don’t feel your rapping
Who is Ill toe-tagging? You tall as Bilbo Baggins
I said I be twisting the cigar, that piff that’s in the jar
Thirty wishes, dirty dishes in the kitchen, whippin’ hard
When Illmac rap, I ain’t listening at all
I could throw him in the air and kick him 50 yards
You a suburban faggot that rap and think he hard
Like you get some type of street cred
Cuz you caught a motherfucking weed charge
I will beat slob down your chest like a retard
For three large, I’ll send Mac to Steve Jobs
If he ill, this H.I.V. meets cancer
I come to any league and work, I’m a freelancer
I made your boy 9DM look like a Pink Panther
I caught a body behind your back like a swing dancer
I been to block, dump the Des’ E and ride off
Swing back through, the shit sound like July 4th
Hop out the whip, stomp his head ‘til it slide off
No tap dancing, I’m kicking Gregory Hines parts
Fuck being at home, I want the best of the best
I’m a true gunner from newcomers to the legends and vets
That long Desert Eagle hit you dead in your chest
That’s how To Kill a Mockingbird – shoot Gregory Peck
This battle rap shit is corny, I only do it for the paper
If you say somebody nice, you a dickrider
But if I say you wack, I’m a hater
And this top tier ain’t based on skills, this shit is favor for a favor
I don’t take you serious ‘cause you not, now pay me for my labor

[Round 3: Illmaculate]

He did exactly what I thought he’d do, act like he’s so damn hard
Motherfucker, you look like Roseanne’s husband
Now that’s a Roseanne Bar(r)
This troop is in training, salute, it ain’t the music, the fame, or the views
Don’t blame the rules of the game, you’ll lose
Use it to train that’s fuel for the flame that grew
Review the tapes, do what I say to do
And watch the moves that you make improve
See K, I could step my game up while still doing the same for you
Salute when you see me, tell them to let them horns blow
This is my second coming, my forthcoming was foretold
This is his corpse, cold on the floor, blood on the wall
Swinging a sword slow through the torso of his torn soul
My hands reach out from the abyss, remove the ground under his kicks
His soul lifts from the ground up and it drifts into cloud cover and mist
He shouts, clutching a fist but feels his mouth’s covered in stitch
He’s now stuck in a glitch where sound doesn’t exist
He could see though that he’s marked for death
That revelation made him reload even though our bars reflect
The scene with Neo and The Architect
We are connected like DARPANet
I’ll fly a charter jet into your thought bubble and park direct-
-ly in front of the verse you ‘bout to start with next
This is plastic army men to nuclear armament
Every dollar spent on defense and the HAARP project
Each bar – an armored mech, alarm detection armed in
Set to target threats
Each word – a sharpened edge, scar his flesh
Carve it through his heart’s contents ‘til my heart’s content

Rewind it first, instead of threatening
You’re going to die in verses, I reverse it
They’re paying me not to kill you, let your mind interpret
Soon as that contract was signed in cursive, your life was purchased
Rewind it further, before you lost this battle to a vet
Before you seen Organik in the flesh yelling, “rapper to my left!”
I accepted this match up as a matter of respect
So you should feel honored when I decapitate your neck
Blood splashing on the steps
In the cracks of the cement until the avenue is wet
But wait! That’s when you snap out of it
Wake up drowning in a sweat, grabbing at your chest
Gasping for a breath
You look around you but instead of a casket, it’s your bed
And you realize, we haven’t battled yet, this all happened in your head
Just imagine what’s gonna happen at the actual event!

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