Tay Roc vs. JC [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Tay Roc]
Just know in one of these rounds I’ma do you something tragic
Which means either you gon get bodied or have a fuckin classic
I’m the one that spazzes, treat every battle like Summer Madness
Sleep on me til that comfy bed become a casket
Faggot! Did Smack sign you up to die or what?
Good with the Clippers I bet he fade when I line him up
This 9 is tucked and this iron buck if you try your luck like you’re drunk
Take a shot to the head, that’s bottoms up
I’m being blunt, but you ain’t high enough
I’m the type to kick it with you then kick in your door and tie you up
I caught him with his bitch, I had time enough
I whipped out my blade and laid my mack down
She knew I wasn’t trying to fuck, goon shit!
And this hockey mask like A Mighty Duck
With this hockey stick I’m treating his head like a Hockey puck
His head would’ve had had enough knots, but that’s not enough
I beat this nigga like the soda machine when my dollar’s stuck
We take change like a Spade’s game, get ya diamonds cut
We strapped with them ladders in the whip, that’s a fire truck
That shotty dump leave drama slumped
Docs ain’t seen no body with this many bucks on him since Donald Trump
Time is up, let me catch you with ya soft squad
I take every shot with no assist, I’m a ball hog
I don’t leave a witness to call log, like I’ll get you hit with a sawed-off
And every nigga that saw, off’d
That’s wordplay, I got plenty more tho
Like if it’s war and they send me all, you’ll get hit with a semi-auto
This nigga act up tonight, he won’t see tomorrow
Money should’ve left me alone/loan like I need to borrow
Dig me? You a actual dead guy, gun bar king
Niggas get clapped when the lead fly
You’ll be suited looking like a bachelor just died
Leave you laying in a casket, that’s half of his bed size
That’s how I pray for all of em, ya daughter, and ya aunt and them
You gotta call 911, my niggas plane will bomb on em
I’m like fuck you and ya squadron
I always look in a bulls-eye when I’m targeting
Pardon him, but dude is trippin
Til I turn into Bishop off this Juice I’m sippin
But the difference, I can shoot thru houses with this tool I’m grippin
These choppers hold extensions, but this new edition
Thru the scope I could hit kids, I got supervision
I can clear a lot when this Uz’ sprayed off
I went to Newark and dropped a K and copped a NEW AR
That’s two guns to knock his Toupee off
I let one ring, one on hold, that’s a two way call
You ain’t hard I don’t believe whatever you confess
I got navigation for whatever you address
I’ll get you robbed for whatever you have left
Like exorcisms, taking him off of whatever he posses
I got bars! Gun line after gun line
In fact you saw what I did to last rookie from Pontiac
I sent his soul where Rich Dolarz at
You see URL needed some type of Magic to bring that Zombie back
I fuck niggas up! More than likely a fag dying
I’ll leave a golf ball hole in one when I grab iron
JC you ran into Roc at a bad timing
You the second Pontiac I fucked up, I got bad driving!
I take what I want, there’s no asking em
I couldn’t wait to punch his mic/Mike around, Joe Jackson ‘em
It’s only right that I’m toe tagging him, close casket ‘em
Have bullets going in and out of Carter, Dope traffickin’
[Round 1: JC]

Aye this a big business
You gotta become a savage in seconds
To make a lasting impression and stick with it
Now this may either help you or harm you
And I ain’t exactly been known for gift giving
Besides every arm I ever lent done had clips in it
Now you can stand here, act like this can’t turn up
You been awfully quiet
But if I get bored with you, a board hit you, nigga I start a riot
I tried to tell him right when he signed he’s out of his mind
But y’all won’t ignore the shit
Now I’m torching the 5th, they gon have to wrap him up
And get spatulas for what the coroner’s missed
Now them basic rhymes, but I’m facing time for these innovative lines
They play, rewind, said you was nice, basically lied
Now you getting all throwaways, watch, just for wasting my time
One call, ya fam missing, I’m van whipping
He using a bus pass, I pass bust and past the bus
Caught him and public tran slipping
But what you want me to do?
You want me to flip ya little bars and tell you who you lost to?
See that’s where these boy’s lost
I ain’t even give a fuck about who you were til the coin tossed
They all know me, right? And dog not waiting
And a portion of that come from my Kevorkian practice
I damn near lost all my patience/patients
Now to them that could mean absolutely nothing
To him that’s a bad life, that Passion gon get him past Christ
When niggas see the shit from my pen, men ship jump
I write that nice, penmanship
Niggas showed me a picture of Roc and said
“You wanna throw darts for fun?”
I said “elaborate,” he showed me a list of names, said target one
I said, “You know what, I don’t care about none of them niggas”
He said you sound like all of us so, y’all talk to son to let him know
Y’all knew he was a bitch before I called him one
But y’all think this a match, well y’all trippin
You the reason Kings sacrifice pawns nigga
Push that button, all you gon see is men in black and cars flippin
Y’all victims, y’all can play that
But we predators, we breed better, y’all need effort
Even tho they saying ya quotes, they think you a Joke, you Heath Ledger
Matter fact, let’s just say this an even match
And believe in fact you are nice and they didn’t lie
You got me, so you don’t know whether you being rewarded or penalized
Let’s get it simplified…
They don’t want you ahead, they wanted yo head
To disarm an unarmed team
And the fact that they even wanna broadcast this broad cast
Is beyond me
But this is way more than a step down for me
This is a free fall, no parachute
But a pair of paramount picture sized clips, that’s what I prepared for you
Now I apparently he don’t know what I mean by paramount
So picture this…
A shot from both hammers across you, that’s a pair amount
No picture this, one arm for each half of his crew, I’ll pair em out
Palm a flare, y’all gon let these broke niggas die like Obamacare
This my section, and when I get to dissecting this dyke section
He gon die in seconds, prove me wrong, with clips movie long
I don’t give a fuck if you can act, out here you got the starring role
You that main nigga we shooting at
We shooting straps, you unarmed niggas ain’t shooting back
Y’all try to run we shooting backs, gats is sparking
He wanted action? Start it, we’re an active target but my clique poppin With big choppers that’ll knock Big Momma back to Martin
But let’s bring truth to it, targets, we don’t roll around but we roll thru it
But you stupid for letting them mourning your death just to YouTube it
You know what he told me? “Spare you”
You know what I told him? “Find a spare you!”
You expendable, I got a scope, he interviewed during his interview
That chest shot gave him an inner view of the inner you
You know what’s funny? I go all over killing dudes
Y’all see me, is this new?
I was told to go long running with whoever head they pitching to
But this is who I end up with, I’m glad you around for this shit
But do not go back to that Cave yet
Cuz there’s still 2 more rounds of this shit

[Round 2: Tay Roc]

You remind me of Shorty Doo Wop, you don’t pop 4’s
I show up to ya door with a snot nose, that’s a Roscoe
In his crib I was decorating with shots tho
Putting 5 in his back when I let a flock go (Flacco)
You a league hopper, I’ma put you in ya place
You gon get what you urn, that’s ashes in a vase
Let me demonstrate, nigga I ain’t Organik
You’ll really get bodied if I put 100 Bulletz in ya face
I beat niggas that ain’t in ya ranks
I already sonned Will, I’m Philip Banks
And you Carlton, clown nigga on every scene
I shoulda deaded you a long time ago instead of Qleen
Lil nigga watch ya lips or get swole shit
I have you walking with a Crooked Smile, J. Cole shit
I’m running Yak, lil nigga you don’t control shit
Since he from the Yak, I’ma kill with old shit like
I’m back, warn him that I’m liable to snap on him
Swing a bat on him, no joking when it crack on him
Smack put racks on him, it’s a wrap for him
Another Yak town nigga I’ma kill, but I’ma pour the Yak on him
Just ask Will, they’ll find your ass killed
Do you wanna know how the trunk of that Pontiac feel?
You from Pontiac? Cool, lil Pontiac, chill
I’ll put lil high beams in lil Pontiac grill
And ya arrogant act, that ain’t right
You ain’t gotta be Conceited just cuz y’all the same height
But fuck the jokes I’ll get you bodied in plain sight
This two piece ain’t a left hook or straight right
Headshot when I clap at JC
If the (D) MC don’t RUN I’ll JAM MASTER J, C
I ain’t ask for JC, but this is who you give me?
Fine Smack, I’ll give the shots, but when Surf gon give me mine?
Not just him, Calicoe, Charlie too
2014, I’m trying to get rid of all of you
Julian let me talk to you, these bullets cost Cash Money
They’ll kiss his Baby and go thru Carter too/2
I said that wrong, that Cash Money will get son ate
Leave his Baby in tears cuz she ain’t get one kiss
Even Lil Wayne’ll tell you that I don’t trust shit
That’s why I made sure all my shooters in the Tru(c)k-Fit
So what’s up? Get everything from ya nose and up broken up
I’ll get sir rocked (Ciroc) in his coconut
You the type of nigga that I run up on
Tuck my hammers, then fold you up
Once these Hit, man, ya brother gon have to hold you up!
Get close enough then Dose you up, leave you swollen up
Put ya head thru a wall while I got you in a Cobra clutch
I throw a punch, it’s like drinking liquor and using bread to soak it up
One’ll leave you leaning, the other will help you sober up
Hollow’s in this .45 make it fortified
Battle Rappers that you glorify, I have horrified
Nigga I will have ya life flashing right before ya eyes
Hit ya HEART, LUNG and LIVER because I’m (ORGAN)ized
Smack know I ain’t playing with these new bitches
Another body by Christmas? Nigga I’m too/two gifted
This nigga think he beating me? He must be too twisted
Or hittin trees like Paul Walker when the coupe drifted

[Round 2: JC]

I ain’t heard shit that gassed in my fucking life!
I’m saying you out yo mind nigga
Dome shots! Now you laying without yo mind nigga
You don’t think before you speak anyway, say it without yo mind nigga
You fucking coked out ass battle rappers
Are paying for the wrong lines nigga
Cuz see me, I’m that crazy one that figured how to mastermind a pen
Savage rhymes, craft in line nicer than the one Madeline was in
And they brought you to me, now usually you pay double
But you face trouble, y’all want us to clash
You ain’t even qualified to play Ruzzle, nobody running from you
Fuck, nobody watching you, stop stopping and start stopping thru
You a Guantanamo Bay prisoner, clearly behind the worst bars possible
And it’s fucked up cuz the ass whoopings ain’t worth the views
Y’all know I ain’t do my research on dude
Not even made for (?) use, not one
This spot done, you top gun put in a case full of pistols
My shots go straight out, you ain’t taking shit with you
Dome shot, they say it’s official, ouch!
We skip the dots and hit the dots, sailors could fish you out
My type don’t mix with scouts
We can’t find you? We take the shit you can’t live without
Come find us, times up, get the shovel
He try to run he get tied up, busy schedule
I grip and lift the metal, that mag need toe (Magneto) tags
I’m getting several
Lead pop, bring that fast life to a dead stop
Scoop up dog quicker than Craig’s pops
Red dots, those arms come out you going home, Redd Foxx
Now you tell me is this an accurate statement
These niggas know what you about, you ain’t even half your rap
Nigga say 500 people even cared you exist
Could be the biggest reach in battle rap
But I’m so much better than all you niggas
I try to push it thru they mind I’m back packing
Mad stabber, leave em lying with this bullet from- nah…
Nah… see lines like that, that’s okay
But it gets so gassed today that niggas like him survive
When he should be penalized for taking half my space
Now it’s cuz of you I’m on this stage I’m mad I (?)
See you the kind I’d (?) next time either find me a better opponent
Or let me be on it by myself
You not a general, bitch you expendable, bred for destruction
Dome shot, straight thru, turn his head to a funyon
You wanna know what’s funny…I feel like I’m more at home than you
And this a nifty spot, you wanna know what else?
I didn’t knock or pick the lock and bitch you missed the spot
Matter fact you might not even be the shooter
You probably got one of your homies to bust it for em
Well I got homies too and a few Benji’s will bend G
And it’ll be a whole lot of money folding
I told this motherfucker, I got long clips for the wrong sense
Long distance, if we 57, I’m raw with it
Them barrels bust like (?)
I told this motherfucker, yo this is the end of the road for you
And it’s courtesy of me cuz I ended the road for you
I killed everybody, even ended who wrote for you
So even if I lose I’m winning, even his iffy niggas know it
But I ain’t losing tonight, you wanna promote this fight
You better hope it’s a twitter where you goin…

[Round 3: Tay Roc]

You gon pop lock then pop Roc? Y’all know he fakin
If this was a dance battle you would 3-0 me, no debating
Once I hit you with this 1, 2, step before ya soul gets taken
They’ll find his body out in Harlem with his shoulders shaking
For salary I cause tragedies and leave casualties
Doc on top of you like he trying to jump a battery
Battle me, shots for everybody in ya cavalry
I aim at you (“Ah-choo”) and trigger off my allergies
Him dying ain’t a maybe, nigga I’m for certain
At his door like Wayne Brady when I rob a person
Deal or no deal, show me who’s behind the curtain
I’m trying to murk him, I leave him in shock trauma hurting
Gun bar king my nigga, try and handle that
I dare him cough, he’ll get his mug where the handle at
Coffee, mug, handle, you should scramble Jack
JC will get an AK, see how I scramble JACK
(?)
One beam on each hammer, I’ll put two of em on you
One thing to do, I should’ve warned you
Shoot til ain’t a shell left over when I bought this aluminum foil/for you
That’s light, I ain’t Chilla Jones but I plan to scheme
Banana Clip hanging out the damn machine
Steel clap that’ll peel back ya Tangerine
You gotta tell ya circle “bounce!” trampoline
Pistol whip him when my hammer swing
I use my hammer like a hand, use his head like a tambourine
Tie up his Princess and his Queen
Start a fire after I soak him in kerosene and I don’t care who seen
Watch you disintegrate, get it straight
For every nigga that I eliminate, there’s one that I intimidate
You got no bars, you just imitate and manipulate
You ain’t a criminal, you incriminate
I’m really in the trap, you wanna participate?
Imagine me fronting this nigga weight and he don’t pay in time
He could lose his mother for being a minute late
Meaning get his clock clean like Justin Timberlake
When I heard Smack and Surf was betting on this I was hot then
They started this so I’ma show where the plot end
Surf got 2 racks on you nigga, you better not win
If I feel like y’all robbed me, then I’ma rob him
Real rap, get jacked, that’s what a nigga bout
Surf been ducking me for years, how y’all give him clout
Here’s something I’m trying to figure out
How you betting 2 racks while sleeping on another nigga couch?
Fuck me? Fuck you too, I get at him, for this dickhead I keep a Magnum
But this shit platinum, I’m the tooth fairy
But he don’t know if I’m a good one or a bad one
Cuz I’ma place this nickel under his pillow and then I’ma clap him
That’s light! Gun bar king, I catch this nigga here alone, I’m robbing him
My Basic Instinct like Sharon Stone, face shots when I air the chrome
Forensics looking like jewelers
They gotta identify him by his hair and bone
You gon beat me? Still niggas lying
Tell him like I tell the others, I don’t feel niggas rhymes
Who he fooling with these steel grippin lines
You fucking with me? You getting Smacked, we on real nigga time!

[Round 3: JC]

So uh… Smack gave me one of the half fags from #TeamAssGrab
To be 100% honest, them Yak niggas don’t get enough respect
Y’all remember that State Farm line I hit O Red with?
That proves I’m a fuckin threat
But this time I reach for the hip, am I airing? Roger that!
Nigga this count is a double check
Last time I saw you I told you, you could die
You coulda got offed for a small offer, my niggas find him
He stretched, I’ll ride to the death, Paul Walker
Something y’all need to notice about these niggas
The higher they get, the worst they get on every tier
Try to step in here, the straps we keep in here are like D implants
They firing everywhere
Where the fuck you gonna go? You in a place you can’t get out
Bitch with them little bars you can’t get loud with
Plus ya lame ass crew of hoes got Payless shoe soles, they give out quick
Don’t let these niggas gas you Roc, trust me
Don’t let these niggas play you
I mean the fat nigga do more gassing
Than Poppa Klump at the dinner table
But that’s cool, that’s ya boy, he gets shakes then
He’s ya best friend, he a yes man
But he gassing shit that don’t even make sense
You know what that is? That’s that fake shit
Letting you leave the house with them bars is a shame, dead true
But now it makes sense that you running the circle
It’s like you ate at a Gushers commercial, you a head fruit
And that fat nigga you be with, yeah you!
You gon catch the head of yo man
Or I could switch the clips and leave him dead in yo hands
Either way it’s a steel body, Bicentennial Man
Or I can pay for the hit and have the first nigga ride by send 10 to yo man
You been getting by way too long with that loud sound
And that’s how every round sound
But them heaters on me and them round sounds
Gon be coming from everywhere, sir/surround sound
You getting outbarred and outlined
Plus fly got a image I recall for a witness
But you been in my soon to go shit list
So next time I get close to this nigga, my fist might be an emotional nigga
Get all in his feelings
Now niggas hit me with the shit that they feel is real, well try facts brutha
I’m not a Vice Lord, my brothers are, so I eat with 12 like the last supper
But you should be a bus driver, cuz you not a shooter
But my shooters aim, bust drivers
Get out of line, I’ma fuck you up one fast upper-cut, that’s that bus driver
You tapped out? Well I’m with that, see I got big straps
That’ll get his six pack packed in six packs and gift wrapped
Merry Christmas, this a scary business, but we mismatch
So that nigga y’all think is off the leash
I’ma break him off a piece…Kit Kat
Y’all think he nice? You wrong!
You could’ve did more if ya life was wrong, but tonight you gone
He don’t mean that shit, but y’all believe that shit so his pride is strong
But I go thru his shit, right to bone
When Cavemen get caved in, they feel right at home
We got robbed, then got Roc, it’s a fast life
They tried to save him, ask Christ, it’s gon be a fast night
Now listen, it’s gates up there
And the only way to get a spot when they open
Is to follow yo slogan, “THAT’S LIGHT!”
Get the fuck off my stage, nigga this my shit…

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