Real Deal vs. Head I.C.E. [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Real Deal]
{Head I.C.E. impression}

I said, suck my dick, straight like that
I don’t gotta say no punchlines just ICE and they like that
I said ya man Buns prolly rock a man bun
Y’all fags gon’ drag checking out ya man buns
Pardon my back

People watching like, “What the fuck is he talking about?”
I don’t know, I guess Harlem’s like that
He never makes any sense but bro, I laugh so hard when ICE raps
I said I ain’t opening no more doors for bitches, I don’t believe in chivalry
I talk that Jazz but run shit, proving points like Pistol Pete
I said give me one of the best in New York, look at this shit you did to me
You gave me ICE, Man, he ain’t a Top Gun, ICE is (ISIS) somewhere in the Middle East
So, what’s that make it? Serius problem?
But I told you for a rack I’ma be a serious problem
You, hard to take serious, problem is you made that Serius bum look like a serious problem
But y’all make a hero out of him
His pen’s garbage but he gets pardoned cause he holds clout to them
I’ll make a giro out of him, when I wrap his dead carcass in the red carpet you rolled out for him
I said y’all turned Zamboni, y’all tried to dust off ICE
Then I seen the reaction, I said, “Okay”
I turned Ghostface, now I want a piece of the action
You, can’t fuck with my pen, you can’t fuck with my sword
ICE the kicker is, this ain’t even close, I’m still airing him out like I’m trying to run up the score
Became a foreman, was watching people work and said, “Fuck it I’m bored” because I’m four men
All you rappers get sonned and addressed the same like every one of them is George
What y’all waiting for? Some angle in the ring?
Wait until TNA’s on, the shit I speak is napalm vers’ shit you read and face palm
This Harlem heat?! I’d rather ‘Ganik book a (Booker) T than put Stevie Ray on
And since he rep the streets I hope he die by chopper fire like Stevie Ray Vaughn

[Round 1: Head I.C.E.]
Watching No Limit movies is the only time you see/C-Murder
The only gun you own is by Cheetah Films let’s be for real
No jokes, any priors/Pryor’s you got is Richard movies
The only time we cross paths
Is if I’m running home after stealing base cause a dummy on your team try to pitch it to me
Real, listen to me
Suck my dick! Straight like that!
Cause if me and T-Rex was still beefing you would be on his side
And that’ll get you punched in your face like that
What? Do something
Stop all this zebra shit and show your true colors
Since Purple Rain you’ve been a Prince-ss but I ain’t here to jazz up your lifestyle
But you scared to give ’em the Blues, Brother
The other day a fan asked me like, “Yo ICE, how you feel about the state of battle rap?”
I said, “It depends on which state you rapping at.”
This shit about views and crews, if you don’t got one of the two
I suggest you stay in front of the tube but not battle rap
It’s all entertainment
Every rapper on they high horse is still an inch from famous
They rap about how much money they got paid or who’s clique’s the dangerous
If you all a part of the street shit that I can relate to
Then why is it so hard for me to pick which clique to hang with?
You all soft
You? All broad
That stupid ass smirk will get you smacked the fuck up too
With all fours, I ain’t kidding with you
Shells big as cow’s nipples
Give ’em down syndrome
Soon as the barrel hit his head like Pat and Cal’ issue
All they gon’ say is, “ICE had an Ill-matic like Nas album.”
Then shit got real in the ER from a large caliber
The deal was never closed cause I killed him and got away with it, that’s star power
You a picnic
I’ve seen cars get hit with Carmello numbers for pitched nicks
Only San Antonio can adapt to the Spur of the moments like this shit
While you was pill popping I was still shopping
Ran out of bullets and sent my medieval niggas to break in the gun store
That’s steel shopping
Heard you like to try on leggings, heels and wigs
Your moms caught you and y’all still shopping
In the future I’ll probably catch yo’ dad getting or giving head to a drag make me give him his cash then, still shot him
You the wiener in the corn dog
I should Serena Williams smack this ball off or crack your cerebellum with a sawed off
Or break the front window of your sister boyfriend Regal with this golf ball
Man fuck all y’all!
Real only real when he got Corona’s in him
When he home he Homer Simpson
If he stealing he either cloning, mimicking or stealing
If ICE running out of bars it’s a 95% chance I’m coming home from prison
Now y’all know the difference, nigga

[Round 2: Real Deal]
I Control Everything, I.C.E., right? That’s cute
When your moniker’s an acronym, you should probably pack it in
Never fucking rap again
That’s corny don’t give daps to him
He’s 40 please don’t clap for him
He should be somewhere in a Harlem park playing chess with Swave instead of up here battling
Your fucking old ass is one stroke away from redefining Harlem Shaking
You so fucking old you can’t tell me ICE age without carbon dating
What if my lines was a bunch of incoherent shit like ICE is?
With a grumpy ass delivery like I’m having a mid-life crisis
Fuck that, I slump cats
Toronto, I got a pitch like Prices’
Y’all see me deliver so many time I should have a midwife’s license
Look how I roll bro, solo, what the fuck I need a team for?
Army strong with a Marine corp
You couldn’t win a meme war
This shit isn’t hockey when you see a goon busting through your screen door
I put the blade to ICE while his wife is yelling, “Please Lord!”
Junior on the computer, I snatch him up off that keyboard
I’ll stab Anthony and her son (Anderson) and give her something to Scream 4/for
Yeah, you know that’s nice cause I’m a general
Even my notebook 5 stars
I got a new way of viewing the shit now
This? How?
These lines I wrote through the sniper scope of Chris Kyle
Click, blaow!
People think you shoot cause you mellow Anthony
Well if ICE so that can get nixed/Knicks out
I chalk at him twice and bucket at ICE like Crystal
But I can switch styles
I’ll pick up your girl with my “act like anything she says is fucking relevant” swag
She thinks it’s Netflix And Chill and then she gets to the pad
Now her eyeliners running and I’m telling her “Gag!”
And I make her take it down like the confederate flag
And since she’s from the Apple too, it’s only right her fucking head’s bobbing
Long dick, fuck a pitch that bitch wants to stretch option
She get hit like Jay Cutler, bare/Bear with no protection
The rubber gets tossed and I shoot in her mouth and leave the Magnum at the scene like Hunter S. Thompson

[Round 2: Head I.C.E.] {10:00}
I said yo Bishop, this motherfucker ain’t real
I told him “Go see Ace for the hardware. He in the store.”
This asshole half an hour later like, What you want out of here?”
I’m like, “What? Where you at?”
He like, “Ace. The hardware store.”
Fucking dick
I’m God but some of my raps got me feeling like there’s demons in me
I’m real I feel they all scheming to get me
Clip hold a 100, so for lost time I’m squeezing centuries
Time will tell, you gotta clock people the second you meet ’em, I should clock you now
You can’t block a shot, you ain’t Ben Wallace
I bring a big object it ain’t Chris Wallace
If I give a person an arm at the time it ain’t wristwatches
Man fuck all that talk about my age and you the gym teacher
Cause if I introduce yo’ chin to these dick beaters
Your next Tales From The Hood gon’ be from a chair like the Crypt Keeper
If Trevor snooping, he gon’ meet the DoggFather
My Dogg Pound will kill ’em and tell Nate to hook ’em before he can tell God ’bout us
I’m slimming thugging it, Sittin’ Sideways and the Benz is government with some bricks in front of it
Yo’ wife on my dick, she said your debase is suffering
She’s helping her numbers rise on my pole like this dick Republican
Vote for me
Vote for me
These light jabs, but it’s giving Real Deal’s ear that same pressure that Mike had
Yes that’s your wife outside the ring, like Don King
Waving that blue, red and white flag
She learned about the cock in the pit
I’m just here to thank whoever paid for that flight class
Cause I be skydiving
Picture Real bringing a gun to the high rises
If he spinning around in the box with heat he cooking Hot Pockets
I don’t see rappers, I guess it’s cause I got the gift like Ray
Or it’s these Ray Bans
But Frank Lucas wasn’t the biggest drug dealer in New York, it was Ronald Reagan
Side note
Last night at the restaurant when you went to use the bathroom I pour your beer out and pissed in your bottle; side joke
Yeah, what you stressing for?
Yes it’s more
Your sister let me sock her like my bottom dresser drawer
I don’t change nothing I let the remote do it
Real just got named but he ain’t really go through it
I will Ciroc his coconut for my Money, Power & Respect with no music
It’s gon’ look like I beat you with locks/Lox did Kim after the hook before the law move in
Take that, take that, Diddy hits
For fucking up my thoughts about Angela I’m not questioning my power I’m talking about Biggie sis’
Put something in his Faith like Biggie dick
Toronto, if you’re walking past the booth and they ask you, “Do you want a Real Deal CD?” Don’t give ’em more than 50 cents
And when you walk outside…Frisbee it!

[Round 3: Real Deal]
He frisbee’d my disc, thinking that would make me more stressed
He said he’d fuck my sister, she’s dead, you’re next
They said, “Real Deal vers’ Head ICE? ICE will kill him
Cause he raps to street cats and I just feel him.”
Well tell us another war story Brian Williams
Tell us how you punched T-Rex
He ain’t deny it so that’s why they all figured
Waited four years to go on Vlad like, “It wasn’t me. One of my wolves hit ya.”
So you watched people politic about the news and didn’t give us the full picture?
You a bullshitter, you’re not a wolf you’re a Wolf Blitzer
Big bitch like he’s full figured
Watch his knees give out quick when I rock him one time like an Easter outfit
I said church, no slacking
Y’all don’t hear me so closed captions
Not you, boy in the PJ’s dying for stripes, don’t gas him
My writtens is cold but I can go off of the dome at him
Right off of the bat, snap off of the head like Bo Jackson
You ain’t old fashioned, you Hush Puppies and old fashion
There’s a difference between breaking my back and Brokeback-ing
Lionz Den, was you a lion then?
You lying then
You swallowed the pride cause Chief Loaded the [?] wouldn’t make you a co-captain
What’d he tell you? “I-I-I-ICE my beloved, I’m gonna bring you up with me. I-I-I just gotta weigh out my options.”
But when it came to ICE role, son played old man Straight Outta Compton
So instead of always acting Deebo, get your bars up to match your ego
I got no idea why white people love him like Starbucks frappuccinos
Think about this, they should like you for the fact that you made up your own style
But they like you cause they like, “He a felon, a convict. If ICE say it, it go down!”
Yet they never met you a day in their lives
So the fact that you let them label you so wild
You part of the problem in America
You so fucking ignorant, you embrace being racially profiled
Yeah that’s real shit
They said, “Real shit” it’s Real shit you gon’ get
You pathetic old man, dragging your catheter into pissing contests
But on a lighter note, you look like every custodian from every school I taught at
That used to dap me up when I came to work
You look like the over excited black dude who sings baritone during Swing Low when it plays at church
You look like the old dude in the hood who complains this new weed is too strong and prefers Jamaican dirt
Hold that, cause you look like that same old dude but with no money talking ’bout, “Can you front me man? I get paid the first.”
You so old you still got a favorite shirt
Your career’s going nowhere like AIDS research
I’m just keeping it a 100 old man
You old as fuck you still instigating
Hold on, I’m just keeping it a 100 old man

Damn I’ma call time. I fucked up my last four

[Round 3: Head I.C.E.]
He was doing so good until the choke

I was a black star before Blackstar
I gave you spitters the ropes and trails
I got the most quotes in rounds
That’s why I’m respected from kids in yo’ school
To lifers watching battle rap DVD’s from the door way of they open cell
Who holds shit down?
Be real with Real
Did y’all know he paid for prostitutes with his battle rap money?
I concealed the deal
The next couple lines, look at the grill on Deal
While I give him the real for real
You battled 9DM
Got crazy drunk and wandered up at the chicken and waffle next to the Jack London around 9…PM
Met a “black ratchet bitch”
As you call ’em, yay tall, could tell she used to be thick
Cause she was standing there looking like the skinny version of Eightball, MJG
I think your other half was 300 so even with his money he ain’t no G
Gave her a smack on the ass, look, like she picked the right MC
Got to the room, gave her the cash for the ass, fell back and fell right to sleep
Am I lying?

[Real Deal]

[Head I.C.E.]

[Real Deal]

[Head I.C.E.]
You passed out
You can’t teach yourself how to manage your own money, how you gon’ teach our kids how to cash out?
You been rapping like you black since Bad Blood
That’s bad blood
So it got Real in the ER from a large caliber
And Fresco walking out the hospital crying to little Trevor like, “It’s bad blood
I try to kiss my king but, he didn’t move
We gotta watch how he pick and choose.”
That’s when my car pull up and my son hop out…and snuff little Trevor after he get the news
Don’t get shit confused
Your GPA is 3.5 or higher, but I’ll sell you eighth’s for 50
That’s 3.5 of sour
You mistaking me for the one that got cocoa with him
If Ice jacking your beats I probably let YoYo get ’em
Tally up, my pink panthers feel they black so they rally up
You ain’t seen this many OG’s rolling to smoke you since Cali blunts
You can never be like us
I was a felon in Rikers
As far as my body count in this rap shit; I’m the American Sniper
Kill the messenger, you got hours to bring that money to us
Or you honey screw us
Then bodies pop up in old suits like the one Norton worked in The Honeymooners
Call your goons up
Tell ’em to meet me on they block
So when I kill ’em they feel he can have the viewing and the funeral in the same spot
Blood stink, that ain’t no Game diss
If you ever sat with bodies you’d know the language
He got angles but he needed to be scheming more
Cause now he DEAD and his family like, “REAL….Is that really you?”
….to a Ouija Board!

Follow us on Twitter @BattleLyrics

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s