Loaded Lux vs. Charlie Clips [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Loaded Lux]
Smack, is you ready? Charlie, is you ready, handsome?
Charlie, Charlie, are you real?
When the make believers wanna make you a believer
In a room full of dream chasers that started chasing the dreamer
Oh, this gonna be a nightmare
I got to wake you from me, bruh
As fake as can be, but I know you ain’t gone just stand in this ring
To be layin’ here beat up
My man said, “Charlie comin’ to fight.”
Shit, I would think he would need to
As much flack as you got from not being in LA with them sneakers
Nah, he ain’t gonna be slippin’
Well, shit, I ain’t gonna play with you neither
In fact, I’m gonna say some things
And I really could care less how you take to them either
Think I’m just showin’ up with these Wrestlemania features
Smell what I’m cookin’? Nigga, I will rock your eye
Lookin’ to box the five, and you ain’t gotta pay Little Caesars
Did y’all know he can walk amongst the tombstone?
Tonight, home slice, and this ain’t for no pizza
You can say I’m a preacher, a Panther, Rich Porter, a YMCA dancer
Whatever, they gonna laugh, you entertainin’
I just figured: in the age where trigger fingers turn to Twitter fingers, don’t sendin’ a message take a certain number of characters to explain it?
Like how me, myself and I already dangerous but schizophrenic
You with a Harlem hustler that will black out
With the shotguns on the stages
I’ll kill you in front of Mom, free of charge
And then pay for your whole funeral arrangements
Goddamn it, you bet I’m back
Chuck, you the one that shoulda suited up for this
Nigga, you forever slacks
You coulda got prepped for that, it helps to match
Do it for your Vines, see where I address you at
Look at grand mama boy tied, I’ma go at his neck for that
Bow ties, bean pies… yeah, you could rebuttal that
Yeah, they say you a good nigga, I fought greater
All labor boss, on paper you a 4th grader
All you do is take a dope line or a gun bar
Then you just reference that with a sports player, you short paper
Fat boy, you couldn’t get down with me with Rick Ross’ trainer
Just ‘cause you got tits, brah
Don’t mean you be thinkin’ in broad layers
Come on, player, it’s in the talk
Scratch that, it’s in the walk
You gotta look at how the bootleg cut
If you copy that, this Clips a fraud, picture’s off
Who you are really in your bars, nigga?
‘Cause I know you for bein’ soft, not for flippin’ hard
Now you this nigga with attitude, just ‘cause Tre chillin’ with a cold block don’t make him Cube, don’t get me wrong
Yeah, you a boy in the hood with a job
If your man deal heavy I feel worried they kick the door
You tell him where the pills buried
See, you not the dope boy that you think you are
I’m just pokin’ holes in him
Y’all probably couldn’t relate to this
Besides, Hollow showed me you wouldn’t be good with a business relationship
Sike I lied… how you lettin’ niggas just take your shit?!
What’s crazy is if I break up with people ‘cause we didn’t get along
I know when to pass the baton in this human race we in
You can’t tell that to a nigga without a car
Just him and his T-Mobile, the minute you roll over
He tryin’ to play you like a sim
They was him, all the ex-producers and the managers
Plannin’ to be in my top-five Fave Friends
Then they find out they ain’t got drive for the long run
That’s when they came to sprint, but this a marathon we in
The family still here, my whole pack at the thriller
Lil’ one, my mama, I’m ridin’ with a backseat full of killas
We on our way to Lenox
I wish a funny-ass actin’ nigga would make a move
But you ain’t never been stiller
Still I told my dog I can’t let this cat shit on the litter
Wreck and tangle my circle of life
The world is round, you could kill me now
How am I gonna flat leave my niggas?
Even Realer Live hit my jack late
He said, “Yo, man, he just came through the hood with Goodz ramblin’, how you manage handle it?”
I said, “Chill, he just feelin’ you out. It’s good, he panickin’.”
This is what happens when
These niggas get creatively famished and can’t manage it
Their mental feeds be fishin’ because they ain’t bred for this type of meet, but you could hook up the sandwiches
I mean look, you got whatever advantages, could be damages
Standin’ in your lobby I’m thinkin’ how he
Put his rounds together, that’s a sign
That nigga outty, I’ve been plannin’ this
I rap circles around a body, nigga, you lucky, it could be bandages
My youngin tried to get the hammer in
I said, “Wow, that type of time he ain’t on, you way off.”
You talk that hustlin’ shit nigga, but bacon the only strip you ate on
I don’t know why you call yourself Clips
Nigga, you got your name wrong
I bet the last name he drew on a nigga he had Crayons
The fake niggas you gotta pray for
I’m not gonna preach to him, he no disciple
Just indecisive, you got a right to question what I might do
After that last one we had to fight through
But here’s where I break the cycle, in case you feel delightful
That moment Mook hit me I got a bit more insightful
I love my people, but some niggas, they just ain’t gon’ like you
You can’t give your life to
Malcolm read the scripture, hopin’ he got the picture
But the only one you remember is at the window with the rifle
Have faith, ‘cause you in here with the meanest
Nigga, and we gonna need you to mean it
Lately you come around
But you ain’t never got three this completed
Everybody’s DNA structure is different
But he not me of the screenin’ – I’m genius
That gray hoodie Lux who lines vibe smooth, fuels with crime rules
Why lose? I’m comin’ to win like a typhoon
Fine tune, every bar with a gun, high noon
In the field raisin’ on a nigga like dry prunes

[Round 1: Charlie Clips]
Summer Madness 5, wow… like where do I even begin?
First off I got to salute Hollow
For givin’ me that lil scratch on the chin
Makin’ me bleed in our last fight
‘Cause it’s exactly what I needed again
‘Cause I suffer from a disease called try-to-give-a-fucking-titis
It’s a disease that makes me not eager to win
Now, I’ve been diagnosed since 2012
No nurse or no doctor would even give me a suggestion
So I battled rookies and legends
Hopin’ somebody can help me learn my lesson
I play around in every battle
But nobody can kill me, “How?” was the question
But then I realized it’s not a disease
It’s God, and I will no longer play with my blessin’
Ah, Beloved, you had the world
But after the Calicoe battle it seems like you been gettin’ demoted
How ironic, you wanted Murda and you got murdered
But I don’t want to hear that you wasn’t devoted
‘Cause every battle rapper in this building wanted to be Lux
Oh, but never did Charlie, nigga, you know it
I tried to take a Hollow out in front of you, Smack
What makes you think Clips wanna be Loaded?
Are you Muslim or are you Christian?
Nigga, you’ve been confused since about ‘83
Yeah, you’re right, you was Rich Porter
And then a Black Panther, and in your next battle you may be me
Now, when you came up with that slogan “You’re gon’ get this work,” that sent chills down my spine, that shit was crazy, B
But the work you give out don’t last that long
Nigga, you’re the temp agency
You left battle rap and I held us down
But y’all quick to welcome him home without a doormat
Ayy, what his resume look like? He beat Miles, he beat Cal
Who gives a fuck? We don’t condone that
You lost to Mook and Hollow
O-Red got a better resume than you, nigga
And now we know that, so it’s like Fabolous spellin’ his name
‘Cause you should be where O at
I’m killin’ scrap, right now it’s a nigga paralyzed
Watchin’ the pay-per-view like “Oh, I’m feelin’ that.”
I conceal a gat, I don’t care how much holmes improvin’
I put this hammer to where his ceiling at
One look big and the other one sound big
That’s Shyne featuring Guerilla Black – bllaa, ba, bap!
Blow his socks on his head, it’s lookin’ like Chilla hat
Yes, dude is back
For y’all who don’t understand what I’m sayin’ it’s Mr. Google Facts
Once again, my flow’s so out of this world
I advise you to go get your Google Maps
I catch Lux while he runnin’ to his wife: Beloved, then use the strap
Make him pay before he enter the ride: this shit an Uber app
Nigga, I’m super strapped
And I’ll spill them all over the stage like a Smack drink
Or catch him and his crew gettin’ high
Then walk in and let the gat brrrring
Headshot, blow his brain by his Puma
Basically I don’t give a fuck what this cat think
The cops will find his Caesar next to some dutchess
Welcome to Black Ink
What’s up, Beloved? Is you gonna shut the fuck up or not?
‘Cause you’re soft on Lenox but you always act tough up the block
I’m at […] with a pump, hittin’ his door with a couple of shots
This shit a Puff deal: it was especially made to fuck up the locks
I’m in his crib lookin’ for his niggas
‘Cause I’m about to do him grimy
Me and my pump just kickin’ it, soundin’ like a song from the 90s
They like, “Who can I run to?”
Lux like, “All y’all get behind me!”
What I wanna know is, how do y’all plan to escape
If the leader is lookin’ tiny?
This is for all you motherfuckers that said Clips ain’t nice
Right now, Eddie Murphy is callin’ Martin like, “This ain’t life.”
Tay Roc is watchin’ the battle like, “This ain’t light.”
And Quentin Miller is tappin’ Drake like, “This ain’t right.”
I tried to relax, oh, but y’all don’t respect me
Until CC buggin’, you see me dumpin’
Burners on his back, I guess his CD’s buzzin’
Everybody gettin’ staples, this MAC got a easy button
So many straps it look like Ms. Fit and C3 fuckin’
What’s up with you, Beloved?
What are you gon’ tell the crowd, Beloved?
How I wasn’t outside battle rappin’ with Tru Mills and ICE?
Okay, cool, I can’t lie
‘Cause of my father life my moms kept me inside
I played video games and ate some damn pie
But when I did come out, I was that nigga
And I watched Rex kill you on 8th, I seen this man fry
So if you battled on the roof and the loser had to jump
Either your ass betted or you can’t die
I just want to know what it is
Oh, you’re talkin’ to me while the crowd’s goin’ crazy
See, that’s your problem, you don’t know how to work the heckler
Stomach shot, paramedics surprised
They forgot how to work the stretcher
They’re like, “Where are we gon’ take him?”
He said “Harlem Hospital givin’ beds out, that will work, whatever.”
But the hole so big
Harlem Hospital and Presbyterian gotta work together
I know y’all was scared to bet on Charlie
‘Cause y’all ain’t know what kind of Clips y’all would get today
Funeral thoughts, I got a box on my mind
You think I’m kiddin’, play
My brother want to shoot the shit out you
But I don’t really need for his SIG to spray
You know how many niggas I will smith by myself?
This Independence Day
I need to talk to you, Beloved, tell the world how you started my career, I mean go ahead and floss, nigga
But it don’t matter right now
‘Cause Smack is both of our boss, nigga
So you can go ahead with all that bullshit
I’d advise you to go and floss, nigga
And we ain’t seen your son since the video on BET
Let me find out that you’re becomin’ a lost nigga

[Round 2: Loaded Lux]
And now for my second trick
You’re the first battle rapper with a 360 deal, nigga
I’m not guessin’ this, we got references
Ever since you let this hairy nigga play J.G. Wentworth
I watched when your whole worth went
Into a small-structured settlement
Eight battles for 50,000 dollars, my nigga? What are you, Mexican?
No disrespect if you like hard work or some extra shit
But if you’re gonna rap, then rap, nigga
Don’t be in blogs actin’ like the moves you’re makin’ is so executive
I’m not impressed with it
You sign major-ass deals, but Goodz still gotta help you and drive you to all of your press events
And all he got to show for is a bottle with that brown drink
Half a gallon Goodz ain’t even got a half a gallon in the tank
You know I’m the only battle rapper out here
Breakin’ the bank, nigga, he don’t like hearin’ that
Nothin’ you kick wavy, nigga
I don’t even know why you’re wearin’ that
These type of niggas, they’re for y’all that like that show on stars
Nah, I’m into authentic power
Well, in the hour you ain’t gotta act like 50 Cent ain’t enough
So disrespect, you’ll allow it
How you talkin’ principle shit? Well, I never attended Howard
But as a student of the game, I know you just can’t claim to be a man and not put on them trousers
I watched you gun talk a nigga
For three minutes straight, my nigga, bullet showers
We just want to know, well
Where was the TEC when Big Cheese kept your 750 dollars?
You’re startin’ to look like a pretty flower, nigga
This video game ass nigga
Who are you up here puttin’ on for? You’re a cornball
Wait, we knew this nigga way before y’all
Yeah, you moved to 8th, nigga, but you was in the house
I never seen somebody put two in a nigga’s scalp
Just shootin’ off at the mouth
Ayy, you’re right, I know what you’re confused about
‘Cause you did work at Presbyterian Hospital as a janitor
That figures, I’m used to realignin’ you Smack niggas
Beasley, I’m gonna get this money
Don’t me I got to be glad rappin’ with trash niggas
The only thing you’ve ever been strapped for was cash, nigga
A Harlem nigga with no bread? A Harlem nigga with no bread!
Big Bird, you’re a featherweight, don’t hesitate
We’re all on the conference call
Smack’s tryin’ to delegate, the match all extra safe
For this pepper stake on a breakfast plate
Ass nigga trapped lookin’ for his best escape
I said bet another K that your man don’t show up on time, Smack
But why’s that? I said ‘cause dead niggas always late
This nigga scared, the 40 year old virgin
Ain’t had as much pressure on a date
This what happens when you’re rappin’
Chasin’ checks at the gate, bettin’ against a great
Then guessin’ at the debates, chess is what I play
And if Couture know the game
She knows it’s over once a nigga get checked in front of his mate
Wait, you thought you was quite a winner
But she was on BET, not you, nigga
I see who wear the pants in your cypher, sister
Charlie, you’re the bitch in the D
He the type of nigga act like he don’t type remember
But shoutout to my boss bitches wifin’ niggas
Make sure you hit him with the prenup
I came to fight, fat boy, sleeves up
I roll up on this nigga like a pants cuff
Break his whole dance up, pop lock
I want a whole tour, Couture, handsome
How long you’re gonna cockblock?
It’s time, Smack, why your fake shooter always worried about the shot clock? This stopwatch-ass nigga
You probably rather a laptop over them backshots
Your flabby bag ain’t built to last
You get in, pull the trigger fast
That’s black ass, not Black Ops – you’re confused, nigga
You Charlie Clip, I’m Fully Loaded
You ain’t even a trailer in my movies, snapshot
Ain’t no future in frontin’, backdrop
You’re in here with the main attraction, mascot
Yo’ lookin’ ass wasn’t even good cash up in Ash twat
You spent all that time at the slots and can never hit the jackpot
Charlie Clips gettin’ them chips again
Last bet, what happened? Couture said he lost the rent again
When the gamblin’ man shook up
That’s usually when he should pass the dice
You sat for like two years without a match to fight
Was you in you in? I could care less if Cam gave you cash for flights, unless you have the lights
Nigga, you coulda been Channing Tatum in flashy tights
Your career wouldn’t take off if you was Magic Mike
Oh, this is an embarrassin’ night
Look at your savior, up here gettin’ yo’ ass beat, nigga
Don’t you ever throw rocks at the sun, you can’t reach it, nigga

[Round 2: Charlie Clips]
One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish
Knick knack, patty whack, give a dog a bone
Two thousand, double zero, party oops, out of time
My bacon is smelling fine
Every time you talk, that’s what we hear
We got a Muslim that eat pork, Allah, the end is near
Watch how I break this nigga down for half a round
And won’t even let the TEC spark
If y’all saw my battle against Jones
Well, shit, y’all noticed the round where I stretch marks
Do you know I actually tie my shoe in a perfect knot
So the world wouldn’t see my sneaker slidin’?
And I took a trip to Africa
Dug deep in the Earth’s surface but couldn’t reap a diamond
But oh, he wasn’t bein’ honest
And Beasley, Smack is not that good at keepin’ timin’
I know you want him to keep the rhymin’ to be the giant
But this the part tonight where David have to beat Goliath
Ayy, listen, Beloved, I’m goin’ back to my Lion Den days
The days that made me a beast
Where you watched me break the Roc apart
Felt like a Dame, Chris, maybe a Neef
Oh, they was callin’ you Jay-Z unique
But you went from Jay-Z to Bleek in maybe a week
Ironic how two back-to-back losses
Turned you from a Drake to a Meek
Yo, yo, yo! Yo, yo! Yo!
Can y’all hear me?
Uh, hold on
Harlem Hospital giving beds out
Harlem Hospital giving beds out
I saw you on Total Slaughter, it was a total slaughter
Oh, that wasn’t the way to compete
Mook smoked through a foot, but you were the one tastin’ defeat
The way you got yo’ ass whooped
You shoulda sued Eminem, Shady at least
Oh, you got a lot of money, that’s the beauty
But that’s not what make you a beast
See, you turned into a money whore, Beloved
I could see you on the phone with Beasley now
Like, “Oh, I’mma do this for the public
Oh, Beasley, put me in the ring with the boy Clips
Oh, they’re gon’ love it
Oh, but I need to know what’s in the budget
30,000? Ah, that’s just a nugget
You know your boy Loaded need to eat
I’ma need more chickens just like a bucket
Oh, I’m doin’ this shit for the love, I ain’t doin’ this for the vulture
I’m doin’ this for me, this thing is for the culture.”
Mmm, oh my god, stop fucking lying!
“Oh no, I’m serious, like, I do this for my niggas up north
Full of that Jack Mack that’s doin’ a bid
For the little ones in Africa
With the flies wrapped around their wrists
I’m doin’ this for all you people that can’t get in the crib
I’m doin’ this all for the kids and that’s the way that it is.”
Mmm, oh my god, stop fucking lying!
You battle rap for the money, Beloved
But just keep it a hundred, that’s why this nigga slippin’
You think we’re in the same field financially?
Okay, y’all, this nigga trippin’
Nigga, listen, I know we’re black brothers
Both successful, but I’m on a bigger mission
Roy Rogers and Popeyes
Our skin may look the same, but the chicken different
Do y’all remember when I turned to Shang Tsung at NOME 5
And the crowd went crazy, and it even left Hollow a little rattled?
We’ll I’m back with the same powers, but now I got one when I can turn into niggas that I ain’t even battle
Another 5’9” nigga with a death wish
Bakin’ his egg with this toast from the side, who want breakfast?
I slide up on him, three guns, fuck a dead kick
Everything used on sight: that’s Craigslist
My bitch will chase him down with them pumps
I guess she desperate
Y’all came to see Clips get Loaded: I guess that’s Netflix
I still pull that piece like Jenga, let that TEC spit
And put his block back in their place, oh now that’s Tetris
You know what’s up with me, Beloved?
If you think this battle’s anything close and you’re watchin’ this
You must be out your motherfuckin’ mind
I’m a psycho, I ain’t even got it all in my motherfuckin’ mind
I’ll run up in your mother’s crib with a knife
Like, “Fuck a motherfuckin’ 9!”
Put this shit to her wrist and cut through your mother fuckin’ time
I dare these niggas to try to celebrate after this
That’s when we crash the party
He gon’ be cryin’, “Oh, Beloved need another shot
I want a rematch with Charlie.”
Well, I’ll tell you what, if you survive the pump
And it don’t detach your body
I go in the arsenal again and make you rematch the shotty

[Round 3: Loaded Lux]
We’re comin’ down to the wire
How you help to solve over 30 homicides
And ain’t take not one nigga down with a wire?
I see where you get your talk game from
Apparently, everybody and your mother know
Your pops went out like a sucker, nigga
At least we agree, we aren’t deceived
Fans, y’all know I’ll probably pick at this issue
That wasn’t hard to achieve
But bet I do it better than every artist you’ve seen
As smart as he seem, to think to cut off that part of the ring
We just gon’ share that half a square
While we wait here and park up the scene
‘Cause this the spot, nigga
Where Rex popped off and ain’t accomplish a thing
I’m takin’ shots, but I’ma stop at every bar in between
What Hey Arnold got to Schwarzenegger strong on a machine?
Pull up sharp when I come out to rock like Arthur the King
You ’bout to pop, I hope you read every comment they leave
For every man your mother picked to be a father to breed
We know about Nut, your little brother Jiggy Josh is his seed
Let’s give it up, see this is what the audience need
‘Cause y’all be stuck, y’all don’t know what Charles to believe
But I know Chuck, the one who wear his heart on his sleeves
That shit was rough, I’m watchin’ you and Hollow
How low you’re depictin’ Harlem on screen
You dissin’ friends, then whisperin’
Like y’all was a team and that was a part of the scheme
I watched you air out a nigga dirty laundry
To make sure it get cleaned
That’s the same thing your pops when he got indicted tried
Talkin’ like he fightin’ crime
Agreement got ripped up when he tried to tell ’em “Sike I lied”
But that’s why he got life inside, pardon my steam
But Dad makin’ us look bad, I can’t honor that, King
I don’t know about grandpops, but I know it starts with the genes
And DNA got me wishin’ we could lift
Your Lennox apartment to Queens
But wait, that’s still New York, but all that just means
Is that the apple don’t fall too far from the tree
You and yo’ punk-ass daddy a couple of chatty patties
Actin’ catty, “meow”
Math was swingin’, you was standin’ there playin’ caddy
I thought you was a killer, Charles: Lee Ray
I thought Chucky wasn’t no joke, he just think he Deray
You might be a DJ way you turn on niggas in the jam you with
You switched on Cor and Chambers
After you let their man get whipped – damn it, Clips!
I know comedians don’t do candid scripts
And you’re a funny-ass actin’ nigga too
But that wasn’t no stand up shit
That ain’t hard to miss, that’s just Charlie Clips: the two-faced ass nigga who got the dimples with the Harvey Dent
He get it from his mom and them
‘Cause you know, Pops didn’t raise him, you know
She was the gangster on the front line, foot first
This could hurt, it look worse
Let’s go back in store, she remember Woolworth
Jesus was a carpenter
And right now this is where he get to comin’ out the woodworks
Nigga, you’re ‘bout to get this good work
This ain’t even a side bar, his mother was a side chick
Tell Lisa Ree we could read the lease was up on the fine print
But she needed someone to provide rent
But why every guy she went to moved around blow?
I’ll tell you, ‘cause at the time she was chasin’ that paper
It wasn’t to put food in any mouths, so
You might be thinkin’ out loud “ho!”
Now, I know his mother, she proud folk
But money was rollin’ through that number holdin’
She was in about to lose count, so
After your daddy, she got with your little brother daddy
And they got wild close
And P Nut was up ‘til the people picked him up
And, you know, things change when trial close
And the smiles go, I don’t know, coke or they found dope
But he wasn’t on track, started runnin’ his lips
Puttin’ names in laps, then smacked right into a milestone
The whole town know, even if the crowd don’t
That nigga P Nut told on Alpo
But look how it come around though
It’s no wonder why in your raps
You’re always mentionin’ the trap, nigga
‘Cause your mother was into the corner chasin’ cheese
And ended up with some rats, nigga
That’s a Snapple top fact
“The nerve of a nigga, get a bunch of lies from niggas
And try to make it work
I got 16 racks, and I’ll give you half of that if you can provide me with paperwork” – that’s what you said, right?
I figured that was a ploy to find out where the paperwork is
Which woulda been smart
‘Cause you know, you don’t want that to maybe resurface
What happens when rehearsin’ bein’ dangerous
Ain’t workin’ could lead to hearsin’?
See, what happens when niggas rappin’
Get caught fakin’ in their verses? They say you was nervous
I heard when they contacted you to pay it
He was playin’ like he ain’t had a paper to purchase
So let me find out, my nigga, you ain’t had paper to purchase?
Don’t mind that, what happened?
It either is or it ain’t that, nigga, say that!
So you don’t mind that I brought the homie Faybach?
I figured you could come and give him his eight stacks in person
Don’t act like you ain’t got the money neither, nigga
I know what we made off our purchase
Get that shit out here, let niggas see what’s happenin’!


This is street justice and I can prove it
I want to send a special shout out to Farris
My man BD, the big homie Lou Simms, and the rest of those that was on that same case that never told, true friends
I’m on the phone with Farris, we rappin’
He like, “Man, if I woulda only knew then.”
But here’s his new den number, 2 8 7 0 0 dash 0 5 4
That’s Leon in a Tucson federal prison
If you’re listenin’, tell them what you’re viewin’
How his son said “I ain’t seen my pops in over 20 years…”
But that’s ‘cause the last East Coast prison he was in
He got his face blew in
What you’re doin’, nigga, usin’ his life for street credibility?
Did they open faces and I don’t wanna open cases?
Nigga, that ain’t you, and you do this only when it benefits him
The other times when he rhyme about that shit
He’s playin’ solely the victim
I know you convinced ’em, but I came to expose your wisdom
I got a cousin doin’ 25 years to life for murder
A daddy who sell dope for a livin’
But that’s those their commitments, what that got to do with me?
I sold my weed, I fought all of my own fights
Up moved some coke I pitched in, that’s just it
Conscious brother, street nigga
I’ve been in both positions and know the difference
Enough of holmes who’s listenin’
To my storyline, I don’t glorify, I report it wise, told the endin’

[Round 3: Charlie Clips]
They want me to talk about my pops’ case again?
How you told Calicoe when you battled him
That he ain’t have half the batter?
Last time I told Rex my moms was the gangster in my family
So the shit about my pops don’t really matter
See, the problem is he fucks up y’all mind
Yo, on some G shit, I’ve never been a bitch nigga
All my raps I’ma get through
Y’all want to call my pops a rat? Your pops is a snitch too!
You bitch-ass nigga, and you know what, I ain’t lyin’ shit
I even keep it a hundred
Your father snitched when he told the psychiatrist
Oh, you didn’t know that was goin’ on
But you got a nigga in your section that’s flowin’ strong
Tell that nigga shut the fuck up when I’m rappin’
If he don’t know what’s goin’ on
What happened? My father is the snitch?
Why I’m not the one that’s lookin’ mad?
These niggas double team me for what
Just to come up here and talk about my dad?
You pussy, these niggas robbed Mook for his coat
Not you, that’s what make me mad
Look at this nigga actin’ like a fag
If it ain’t true, tell them why he mad I’m talkin’ about his dad?
You know what’s funny about this though?
I’ma tell you the rest, his father was a snitch too
At the end of the day, I’ve never been jumped
I’ve never been punched in my face or robbed
He talkin’ about my father
Now y’all want to say “boo” and scream “fuck Clips”?
Oh, I see what’s goin’ on, a bunch of y’all is loaded on Lux dick
But we gon’ get to the rest of this shit
My moms and my grandmother was the gangsters of my family
So I just want y’all to imagine that
That was a great round you did, but exposin’ somethin’ about my pops is not battle rap – but this is…
A certain battle rapper called my phone and said “We should double team Lux,” and I laughed like “Nigga, say word!”
Now, y’all know I’m predictable, right?
So guess which battle rapper it was? The nigga Aye Verb
The nigga Verb called my phone
And said “What’s up, Charlie? I heard you’re goin’ against Lux
So I’ma need you to be lyrical
Borrow my Showtime, bring three rounds if you can
I don’t want you on stage lookin’ pitiful
Read the Bible a hundred times
‘Cause that boy known to get biblical.”
And I’m lookin’ at the phone the whole time
Like, “Nigga! What, you forgot what I did to you?!”
This is true story, every time I take a battle serious
My opponent dies, come back to life and then they try again
It’s like I’m Ghost Rider, Smack the Devil
He raised their soul, I make ‘em fry again
You Lux in the spiritual
And you Rex in the spiritual, it’s time to die again
Kylie Jenner, close your eyes
‘Cause I’ma expose this gay tiger in this lion’s den
That’s the name of your league, right, nigga?
Your baby moms fronted you the money
You was broke, ain’t have a set price
You was on a low carb diet
No wonder you ain’t have your bread right
Ironic you’re on URL braggin’
But your league couldn’t afford a website
You wasn’t even gonna drop my footage
I woulda never came out if it wasn’t for Head ICE
But I can’t salute ICE just yet
That’s my homie, but that nigga there is deceivin’
They both on 8th, I mean they’re liars
That’s why nobody believe ‘em
What are you comin’ at ICE for?
‘Cause he dissed me in the interview for no reason
So why show Wolf love if love left the Wolves for Cleveland?
Charlie Clips bein’ pussy? C’mon y’all, imagine that
You broke down my father past
But what the fuck does that got to do with battle rap?
You know what, let me get back to this
‘Cause truth be told, I still fuck with ICE
He set Lux up for me like, “Kill him, Beloved, you too fuckin’ nice!”
You wore that Money Mitch outfit against Mook
At first I was confused, it had me fuckin’ tight
But now I remembered in Paid In Full
Money Mitch was set up by Uncle ICE
You see how God put this together, Beloved, ‘cause ever since Lion’s Den, you done prepared like you ain’t hear the kid
Your side bitch pregnant, your wifey home
Translation: that means you fear the kid
You watched me try angles on Roc: that’s a pyramid
You slept on me and woke up in a funeral: we’re in Phara crib
Hollow broke this nigga’s style down
I can’t lie, that nigga Mook amaze me
They both broke down how you say a bunch of nothin’
But y’all be goin’ super crazy
It’s like the building look good on the outside
But the inside is nasty because the super lazy
Russell Wilson: let’s just say I see errors in your future, baby
And I’ma break one down for y’all
‘Cause the nigga AZ got a song featuring Nas
And the song is called “Everything Is Everything”
And what do y’all know to my surprise
The nigga Nas said a line, he said, “Death before dishonor
That’s somethin’ that we should practice
And don’t play with love ‘cause love is evil spelled backwards”
Wait a goddamn minute, Beloved
You turned “love” into “live” and incorporated that in your schemes
So they can scream, you went to sleep listenin’ to Nas
Woke up and stole his dream?
You got a picture with AZ on your Instagram
Be a fan, not a fiend! Look at me, King!
Stop stealin’ all your best lyrics from out of Queens!
This is exactly what I mean, “Is it evil to live backwards?”
I don’t know, but that shit was flame, my nigga
But love, live, life back—that shit is all the same, my nigga
You wanna go backwards? I got y’all, no lie, Hitman
I remember them cold nights that I was blessed
Thinkin’ about puttin’ these two Deserts in his mouth
‘Cause I was stressed
I said I wanna show him where this Beretta is
Peep how I dog God and his relatives
Puttin’ them in Hell, in the same place that the Devil lived
For anybody in the crowd that go to church
I apologize for sayin’ the word “devil”
But no matter how you flip the shit, this nigga is not on my level
Ain’t nothin’ backwards about Charlie
Especially the way that I grip up
He’s my student and I got to help my pupils when they slip up
I got the mind of a Martin Luther
Look at me, King, you should be proud of me
And I shall overcome on your girl lips while she’s mouthin’ me
I had a dream that all these people
In the front row was comin’ out for me
And how ironic they’re watchin’ me lose my mind from the balcony

Follow us on Twitter @BattleLyrics

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