Chilla Jones vs. 100 Bulletz [Lyrics]

[Round 1: 100 Bulletz]
This battle’s just like ya kid; a ugly mistake
You’ll get stabbed while you running, that’s how I cut to the chase
Arsonal and Mystique … The ratchet butt in ya face
This is gon’ be such a Notorious death
Puffy and Mase gon’ come to the wake
Back off, I ain’t slap boxin’
I’m here to catch bodies and stack coffins,
It’s like watchin’ a URL battle… let’s skip all the Smack talkin
You battle raps Muhammad Ali? Nice punches and the footage crazy,
Naw, you Muhammed Ali
Cuz ya back against the ropes and ya future lookin’ shaky
9:09 I’m at his front door, 9:10, he in plain sight
Stick him with a box cutter, 9:11… take flight
Sudden infant death, I’ll turn ya crib to a grave sight
Real talk, I’m nuts on the low (Loe Pesci), Daylyt
Want beef, I brought a steak knife, Chill a’ get ya grill split,
You gonna lose 3-0 to 100, nigga! Real quick!
Oh Lord… BIG, PAC, Proof Bulletz send rappers to Heaven?
I’m ebola, thought I was gone but I’m back in the flesh n’
Class is in session… it’s perfection, when I’m craftin a lesson
Big T on a leather couch, it’ll leave a lastin’ impression
How Chilla grabbin the weapon but ya click got no bodies droppin’
Forrest Gump, this dummy sit the bench but do a lotta talkin
Ya lil chick saw my Johnson … and did the McCauley Culkin
I ain’t touch her though
Them lips got more niggas off than Johnny Cochran
Losin’ not a option, the pound to him ain’t a calorie gained,
You’ll see Jerome capped n’ (captain) on ice like the Calgary flames

[Round 1: Chilla Jones]
Salute to Rex, cuz havin’ no neck is something you gotta deal wit’,
Salute to Drake for showin’ love to the culture, that’s real shit,
I got a steel fifth named Zero, and when it peel clips,
These’ll go from Zero to 100 nigga, real quick,
See I was on my chill shit, on my hands I had alotta time,
You jumped in my Twitter inbox, gettin outta line,
Then Organik called offerin’ dolla signs,
So now I’m in the TRENCHES takin’ Bulletz to school like Columbine,
I ain’t wanna sign that dotted line
Cuz I’m looking for matches where the footage is classic,
You gettin’ put in a casket, no pullin’ the ratchet,
It’s like I’m at the range cuz it’s a body on paper
I’m usin Bulletz for practice,
Like, well let me practice my punchlines and get em boxed with delivery, UPS
I wouldn’t give props to this actor on a movie set,
I’m hot, bout to bubble with the flow, like jacuzzi jets,
Long nose put dog to sleep, he gettin Snoopy stretched,
Next, lemme practice my schemes
If we see ya DAME cryin, makin’ mad noise quick,
That’s when we console (Wii console) her
P.S. four (PS4) niggas KINECT with your ex box (XBOX)
While she grab joy sticks,
Nigga you extra gay, your cans pepper spray, you don’t grab toy clips,
You leave eyes BIG and PUFFY with MASE, but C’s (CEASE) got FAITH in that one twelve (112) on some BAD BOY shit,
Now lemme practice my flow, and multis specifically,
Goin’ bar for bar with Chilla, don’t work with filler,
He get the spin, stiff arm, speed burst agility, versatility
You can’t match my worst ability, cursed delivery,
You can’t rock with a killer homes, you awkward and filler prone
Plus softer than silicone,
Quarantine, I feel alone, like I’m locked in a iller zone,
You cocky but still a clone, that’s copyin Chilla Jones,
My skill is grown, I’m here to show that Bulletz, you know that Bulletz,
That tough talk, slow that Bulletz and where you toast at Bulletz,
I load that pull it, then blow gats, hold that Bulletz,
I’ma Wizard, washing ten (WASHINGTON) when I THROWBACK Bulletz,
They only booked it, cuz you a clown tryna sound like me,
But you ain’t never stood in front of three rounds like these

[Round 2: 100 Bulletz]
Man, shut your boring ass up
Talkin’ tough, on Sesame Street this Big Bird couldn’t get a G pass
I got fam that used to crack heads…
And if I tell ’em they prolly gon’ relapse,
They go outta the way to grab the pump … That’s cheap gas,
So, leave fast cuz the gun never jam like Steve Nash
This pussy from the bean bagged, I could break ya arm with a body shot,
It’ll be a white cast Chill in like Chandler and Friends at the coffee shop.
You got sloppy punches, Forrest griffin
Ain’t temper tantrum when the four is kickin’,
After Bulletz drop him… chill a dead body like a mortician.
Listen, I produce Magic with the mic; it’s a Dream Team,
He say, “Since I’m from BeanTown, I’ma hit him with a Bean scheme.
I shot your PINTO with the llama (LIMA), now ya CHICK PEA beside ya,
If he even cough he bein’ (COFFEE BEAN) roasted
Blaow! “now, ya KIDNEY a FAVA.”
That’s you every battle
You rap how I used to rap, won’t put the pen down and raise his kid,
That’s why more hood niggas gon’ run through ya daughter
Than Jane and Finch
You make me sick, bit QP, Daylyt, NuBorn even remakin’ mine,
I guess the UFC champ ain’t the only Jones who been taking lines
Keep snakin’ rhymes, no Shock G, it’s a wrap with the long nose,
Call me Carlton Banks… that’s cool
You gon’ see me snap with the Tom, Jones
I’ll put this bitch on ice, women’s hockey,
This one 87 Sydney Crosby,
Get X’d out… It’s a molly, the 9 all black… like it’s Somali,
Let it ring with the piece, Mrs. Ghandi,
I Murda Ink (Inc.) bitch… It’s Ashanti
The heat cooked you… it’s a Nazi,
Now ya brains hangin’ out… like this the lobby
When Matt roll up like you did Pilates, cold punches, it’s getting Rocky,
You in bad shape, O’fficial body, Walkin dead, it’s a zombie,
Getting homied, Laura Tarsi… this bitch gon’ kiss a Shotty,
Or shake and bake with a Cal by my side like Ricky Bobby

[Round 2: Chilla Jones]
I ain’t gon scheme this whole round
Fuck you and every lame you fuck wit,
I know a gang of bloods
That’s twenty 5s with two 50s each waitin’ to bust it,
Now 10 tends to be enough shots to blast
And they’ll mask up and take him in public,
If y’all really believed I wouldn’t scheme this whole round
I’m ashamed and disgusted
20 5’s? 2 50’s? 10 10’s? Now why the fuck would I CHANGE for 100???
Fuck it, I’m back flippin from the jump, without a trampoline,
My circle git it shakin’ with the hands, that’s a tambourine,
Since 40 beat Bonnie, man your team can’t stand the Bean,
But sit, trust (CITRUS), we be peelin’ rounds like a tangerine,
Cans and beams, ammo, army fatigue, camo,
Open the door of your sportscar by the handle,
Packers home game
Start airin’ (Aaron) in that Lambo(rghini)/Lambeau (Field),
I’m rockin’ Bulletz across the chest like Rambo,
You can’t go to events and wear a tight black shirt there,
Or you must get asked by club staff if you work there,
Wait, MUSKET? AXE? CLUB? STAFF?
Being too sick’ll (SICKLE) confuse this dumb fuck,
Me being sort of (SWORD) of pissed’ll (PISTOL) lead to you seeing that (GUN) bucked,
If I miss I’ll (MISSILE) hit BULLETZ chin and rock it (ROCKET)
You’ll be lumped up,
Well words is WEAPONS, and these bars off the chain, like NUN CHUCKS,
So fuck, what you ’bout boss,
Cuz now I’m all outta schemes, so it’s all punches left, like southpaws,
Crosshairs aimed at your grill, I’m lettin rounds off,
Spittin in sync (sink) with the Scope, come git ya mouth washed,
Sound off, nigga you dissin a great
Let’s be real, it’s a difference between dis and a great,
With no respect for the God, y’all think dis sinner great
Now that was good right?
Now watch as dis enter great,
Peep how dis integrate, dis, end a great
Dis send a great to the sky and make his center disintegrate,
Wait, this Apollo meets Drago fam,
If you swung, you’d break your fingers on my jaw though fam,
How you gon CRACKHEADS when God gave you hollow hands (HOLLOHANS),
I’ll LEAN em, like the cup that be in HOLLOW hands,
You follow fam, they had to pay me extra to take you,
40 coulda gave you the beats, like Drake’s crew,
You lettin’ Born gas you up? He fake too,
He shoulda been frank (Benjamin Franklin), he knew 100 (NEW $100) would get his face blew (blue),
Replace who? You just a clone tryna sound like me,
But you ain’t never stood in front of three rounds like these

[Round 3: 100 Bulletz]
Yo when I dis in the great, dis in the in the great,
I flew here over isles see and I’ll see what my eye’ll see
Oh you from Beantown right?
Well in the grocery store beans are in aisles see
You lost to magic and Eric, right? That’s easy!
It’s kinda the same when I’m spittin fam,
cuz they both had HIV, n’ u got no idea how sick I am
Let’s get it, man, this rounds it, the pound BIG like P. Diddy twitter,
Two arms squeezing on ya chest ain’t a titty twister
The illest spitter, I’m Bacon with the Penn (bakin’ with the pen) like Mystic River,
Can pack a Full House: best friends with a D.J. like Kimmy Gibbler
I seen ya crew! Since you hang with marks, I’m back whippin niggas!
If they (Day) REACT, SHIFTEE, the first hit SLAM… that’s Sticky Fingaz,
A second shot knockin back Rum… but I ain’t sippin liquor,
The deuce put this pussy in a box… that’s kitty litter
These knuckles leave ya face in pieces;
The rest of ya life you got a puzzled look,
Or that gat blew/Baloo!
The barrel/bear’ll raise this boy like The Jungle Book.
When I said The .22 or the .38, Aaliyah and R. Kelly, was dead nice,
But you get the .38 or the .44, that’s Danny Myers or Head I.C.E.
Got a gun so big, ya boy said yikes, run for it run
When a Canadian pop metal, like Sum 41
I’ll put a switchblade where ya rib cage is:
Wish you and FeelGood could switch places,
You’ll catch this Smack on cam like Twizz taped it,
Run in ya house, you can argue with A. Smith like Skip Bayless
BOW! Leave DNA on the couch like Charlie Clips basement
I spit flames but these bars cold whether or not you see the kid ill,
Ya stock dropped below zero… mine is 100 with the win Chill
(Minus 100 with the windchill)
Why dumb it DOWN? If bars go OVER heads, that’s half the hassle,
Diz vs Math: you wont get the punch til’ after the battle
You say u spit haymakers? Them random shots ain’t enough, son,
Me? I set up the punch… like Lush One
Shoulda wore a teflon Jason mask and a bullet proof hoodie too,
Cuz they was right, guns don’t kill people, Bulletz do!

[Round 3: Chilla Jones]
When they announce I’m on the card, they know it’s gon spike the hype,
When they announce YOU on the card, it gets more dislikes than likes,
I’m nice, but niggas say Bulletz off the wall like a ricochet,
He look like a tough guy but sound like Nick Lachey,
His wifey cheatin’ fuckin Hollohan every which a way,
And once she got Jeff hard D(ick) (JEFF HARDY)
That was the TWIST OF FATE,
I’m Tim McVeigh, bomb shit, palm gripped,
Shots goin’ straight from the HEAT to your calves/CAVS like LeBron did,
A body shot could break strong ribs, but I’ma smoke a square, no need to maul bro, 100 (Marlboro 100s) get the long cig,
It’s on kid, a couple shots left up in this new pound,
Look through the crowd
Like “Where’s 100?” They brought me to you clown,
What the fuck could he do now? Look at “100” up close
It’s only right cuz you the (1), in front of these 2 rounds (00),
It sounds, like you tryna flex,
But even with the skill it (SKILLET) probably won’t PAN verse a IRON CHEF
Cookin niggas, boy’ll (BOIL) see I’m SEASONED with swag,
Squeezin’ a mag, I’m marinatin’ puttin BEEF in a BAG,
So listen fag, I don’t wanna hear bars bout how your hammers spray,
You married, 30 plus, into comic books and anime,
You don’t handle treys,
We ‘posed to believe you pop gats,
With 4s singin’? Harmin eyes (harmonize) like a doo wop track?
And that you move weight and you got crack?
I wouldn’t see Bulletz in a THUG LIFE with a TUPAC TAT,
That oo wop clap, shots fly your clique can’t flee it,
I’m leanin’ on him with the metal, like a kickstand peep it,
This gun so big, that if I load a clip and squeeze it,
Will pick Bulletz up off the ground, like a Hitman Remix,
Jesus, I’m the meanest when I spit 100,
Still got a 5th named Zero that shoot quick 100,
But I named this .38 Wilt
Cuz the chamber lend (CHAMBERLAIN) shots to hit 100,
And they’ll share the body, 50-50, if you don’t SPLIT 100,
Fuck a teflon Jason mask and bullet proof hoodie too,
With that being said, what the fuck could 100 Bulletz do,
Now look at you, amateur spitter,
If I ever see the mother of your children I’ma damage her nigga,
Spark, aim for the heart, load the cannon and hit her,
Like where the Raptors play, how I air a can at her center
(AIR CANADA CENTER)
Remember…you the one that wanted this battle, but you losin now,
Against Mr. Jump to top tier from the provin’ grounds! BOSSTOWN!

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