B Magic vs. Bigg K [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Bigg K]

I will wreak havoc all over this weak faggot
Grab this joke by his head and his throat and detach it
Spike the head, stand over the body and T-bag it
B Magic you nice with it, I mean at it, mink Dragon
Gripped up in that green wagon
For them bills my man on your heels like Steve Madden
Cheap fashion, try somethin’ stupid, I’m reactin’
We jabbin, put you to sleep and keep rappin
Boot his top, I should smack you weenie
Get your fuckin noodles knocked, with a ragu beanie
Or beat the snot down your face, you gon look like a smashed zucchini
What is magic to the right punch? You better ask Houdini
I’ll let famo have it I’m bout that Rambo static
Fully automatic ratchet out the bando attic
From your punches
I thought you was bangin like Shaq with the Orlando Magic
Til I saw you in a real fight
And your punches didn’t connect or land though magic
I was in the parking lot for him and fox whole drama
Flat out, 2 corns beefing like a hot tostada
When ya’ll locked up, you didn’t dump em, you ain’t pop no llama
You was getting slammed by Fox more than Barack Obama
And you got em by like 30 pounds you ‘posed to punish him, instead
You went for the windmill, missed, buckled at the leg
Told Suge “get em off me cuz”, that’s what you motherfuckin said
Right after you slipped, fell, and bumped yo motherfuckin head

[Round 1: B Magic]

It’s B Magic, one of the best to ever do this shit
MC with the hammer, I can’t say my tool legit
Who is this? B mother fucking magic with the ruger fifth
I bring the ratchet to em like a super sixth
It ain’t a friendly conversation when I shoot the shit
You gon’ see more than the torture rack when this luger lift
Chopper or the tech spit, Netflix, choose a clip
I let em see what I’m sayin like a movie script
B Magic vs bubba sparxxx, who can spit?
You gon’ punch what? And shoot who? Do the shit
AZ, I’m Back For The First Time, Ludacris
Shoot the Smith, Ice-T pool house your roof’ll split
Who said this nigga from the hood? Just not as ghetto
Nice aim, no bike chain we poppin metal
I smoked Reggie last week, without a rello
When a nigga go and shoot the seven, I’m not Carmelo
That’s on the hood, if I don’t feel that boy
Have you ever seen Silent Rage? Then watch me kill that noise
You talkin like you got the dope, my g’s put the four to em
They gon see me pull out with them keys like accordions…

[Round 2: Bigg K]

I’ll have it where your front door need a ramp
After I open hand smack you til my fingers cramp
I’ll bust yo fuckin head open like, “you bleedin champ”
Magic leakin out the top like a Genie lamp
This Tommy Gun look like I’m holdin a banjo
Ski mask with kevlar over the camo
This battle shit’ll lick, they aint dope as your man though
All wins no draws like I’m goin commando
Let’s get right fuckin to it chump, your kiddie punches don’t do enough
I chew em up, I’m outta town but we movin with them rugers tucked
City to city with 3 shooters like Hoop It Up
But fuck a ratchet I come at Magic, shoot his cuffs
He get the beats for 20 minutes like I looped it up
Man I ain’t with that stupid stuff, get your coofie crushed
Knuckle game, these fades sharp as a boosie cut
You’ll get bodied and your mommy can’t even buy no grave
Why they real life ain’t never what they bio says
I’ll uppercut your baby momma out her Nike Roshes
Swinging your waterhead daughter by her micro braids
All gangstas ain’t dead, pimpin ain’t easy
I’m a grown ass man, Magic can’t beat me
32 round Uzi, do your game greasy
Playing with an extended cartridge like a game genie

[Round 2: B Magic]

Bigg K… my wigga, we can get it poppin
Get your ass whopped or get your ass whopped, pick an option
What you think it’s a game? Nigga stop it
I grip a glock and let it ring in his face like Dennis Rodman
Please help the fella, he’s dying here
Stay awake, the banger I got up in the trunk ain’t a 808
Nines or the tech, put the tom to his chest
He’ll get his whole mouth capped like flava flav
Who is this nigga? Somebody please help em out
Nigga shouldn’t be in the ring in the first place
You punch but I could do it with wordplay, check
I catch him by the bar like “what the fuck did this nerd say?”
Come on outside, what you think I won’t serve K?
He try to hit the exit, the 50 on me the nerve, aye
I’ll let the 50 sing in the club like it’s your birthday
Now, now did I stutter? It’s whatever with the squad K
Thinkin it’s all butter, you was never up to par K (parkay)
Understand the lingo, listen here I’ll hurt you K
Get a lot of pumps in the front of your whole circle K…
B mothafuckin Magic

[Round 3: Bigg K]

Be real, that 40 smokin like B-Real
I show B steel, all in your grill like ‘be still’
Emptying your mug til your blood and the meat spill
Dump another one in your mug, it’s a refill
I’m bangin out that hooptie with the fucked up frame
Brought a clip full of cop killas that bust up brains
Swinging that iron close range like a putt putt game
This 50 gon be why B spinnin like Young Buck chain
From past to present, I traded battle raps with legends
And before that, I was sellin crack with a Mac-11
Bullets through the windshield to teach magic ass a lesson
But spill his guts in the back seat like Taxi Cab Confessions
I’m hot, my blood boiling like stew in your thermos
Shotgun with a drum, brand new I just purchased
If it graze you, it’s doin more than bruising the surface
Pussy, that street sweeper ain’t got community service
When it’s beef I ride strapped where your peoples hide at
Have the crime scene lookin like a CSI act
Find your niece in a sheet, underneath the lilacs
With her head cracked open like a Venus fly trap

[Round 3: B Magic]

Money on the grind, dummies in the nine
Put this cash on your head I call it money on your mind
Blow your mind on your money, blow your tummy out your spine
B Magic is the best, who the fuck is on the line?
Tell em step, cuz I’ma do that, I beat a nigga blue black
Nail ‘em to the door and shoot his midsection through that
I warned dude first so we already knew that
I kick this nigga ass til they ask where my shoe at
How they gonna do that? Run up on a G
I got bullets bout the size of a Arizona tee
Chalk outline, get carried on a sheet
Til the back of your truck get buried in a jeep
B magic, I’m the best, killa bars I’m the shit
My nigga you a tranny, you was born as a bitch
Told your moms on your brother you was born as a snitch
B magic I’m a star, I was born for this shit
B Magic 53, check the dvd
I’m sicker than the reason for the death of Eazy-E
No harm to the OG, that’s just being me
Kick the stomach, grab the chokehold, drop the DDT
I told em once, this motherfuckers scared
I’m from the motherfuckin Lou that’s how a motherfucker play it
Beat me? Can you believe what this motherfucker said?
He must’ve slipped, fell and bumped on his motherfuckin head

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