Reed Dollaz vs. Chess [Lyrics]

[Verse 1: Reed Dollaz]
I said, this is where the fun stop Chess
Gun pop, one shot’ll make your lungs drop, Chess
All my niggas get it in, I’m from a dumb block, chess
Mortal Kombat, finish him; Kung Lao, yes
I ain’t come here for play, I ain’t come her for chatter
4 pound to the gut, put blood in ya bladder
All them niggas that you claim, when I aim
They gon’ scatter, knock the gigs out your brain
Leave the streets full of data
Ladder hangin’ out the bottom so you know what this .40 hold
I’ll drag yo’ bitch ass from White plains to Fordham Road
Cause if my young niggas from Edenwald, see you and give me a call
You’re gettin’ stripped down to your socks cause we need it all!
Now, what is chess? A game with 16 pieces, 1 king, 1 Queen
2 rooks, 2 knights, 2 bishops and 8 pawns
So, I should hit your crib with this .16
Kill the Queen and King, merc you and your rooks at 2 at night
Like I’m Bishop wit this .8 long!
I got the Juice now, I mean you rap ’bout this killa shit
Well, pop out the proof now! Suck your faggot ass teeth again
I’ll knock out a tooth now! Philly rap made you niggas
Before SMACK made it commercial and more calmer
I been had a fridge full of rappers like Jeffery Dahmer!
Scream “Allahu Akbar”, crash your building like a bomber!
Stay with a crew of wild niggas who love to spark beef
They kill cats, fish, dogs, shit, pretty much anything with a heart beat
You guppies lucky, you never felt the wrath of the shark teeth!
Come to my block, Discovery Channel, it’s Shark Week!
Aw sheesh, this AA-12 will squash beef, cause grief
Mama kissing your corpse; on ya hard cheeks!
Toss reefs in your grave, pussy nigga, rest in peace
Another young nigga that died for false reppin’ these streets
And, all the critics say he’s hard, but I don’t see that shit
I got niggas that’s doing life, we don’t believe that shit
You’re talking wild beef, shorty, you canal street
Won’t sell me that shit! Haha!
I said, Marine pistol, let the sub-machine hit you
.223’s, it’s gonna feel like submarine hit you!
K got the Woodstock, A got a good shot
Brains hang, get your fuckin’ name on a wood box!
This year, I’m murdering niggas, back to my old ways
In the trap, same Dickie on, 3-4 days
War with us, that’s somethin’ that you don’t wanna go through
The judge shoot a fireball out, like GoKu
Bullets hittin’ brick walls, trust me, it’ll go through
You don’t know the shooters, but nigga, the shooters know YOU
My pops was a Gun, I’m the son of a “G”
You’re pops was a bug, you’se the son of a Flea
Your mom’s is a bitch, you’se the son of a “B”
I’ll send a spirit to the sun if nigga’s want it wit’ Reed
Time

[Verse 1: Chess]
I finally got somebody I gotta body
I’m straight out the gate like God denied me
I told myself “Reed, gotta walk in dead”
And all it take is a head shot to drop a zombie
But, I was only have motivated
Then, I received dollars for Dollaz homi
So I had to spice it up for the chips, like the hottest Taci’s
This my shit, you don’t wanna see me
Try and stop me, when I tell him “Do something”
I don’t mean find a hobby
You fin’ to get a worse ass whooping that you got from Johnny
I don’t believe none of them words, don’t even try to try me
Get beat and boxed for story telling raps; Lodi Dodi
Nigga, this ratchet ring like if you wife a thottie
That was some bars from Chess
Was it my hardest? Yes, got him!
Is he Reed Dollaz, Reed dead or Reed done?
If we squeeze ours, he’ll see lead from each one
He done walked into reality
But a head tap will make his dreams run!
Down his mind, literally, sovereignty
I came back to land left this King dumb (kingdom)!
See, I’ma fuck Reed up, no damn debating
The hammers blazing, one gotta beam, one gotta scope
2 different views like fans debating
Or I could I stop Reed, to give him a quick right (write) like annotations
Beware of what this man creating
Cause I don’t train to get slept on, I’m not a homeless man in stations
Last Christmas, I got a gift of picking up trash; sanitation
Your era done, you can’t stand with greatness
Only way you can hang with this roster (rasta)
Is if your man’s Jamaican
These bald heads sick, that’s a clip full of cancer patients
And a I gotta chopper arm like it was amputated
If he sees the .4 he’s gonna dip like he ran from Jason
Or, a different weapon is popping, Hecklers behind him
Like his man’s was hating
Wait, why was your man’s just hating?
You ain’t nobody nigga, your family’s famous
Well, not no more but in 200 B.C., this man was blazin’
But, now this man is ancient and he dealing with a savage aak
Plus, all my raps is hot, get in his space
And leave Earth more often than astronauts
This finna to be more dreadful than Rich Gang, Migos, Future
Travis Scott
Lil Wayne, Lauryn, Bob Marley, whoever else have the locks
Tay running, his dame comin’
They still ain’t trying to pass the Roc(k)
Fuck it, this a scrimmage, watch the basket drop
Leave this bastard’s top wide open
But I’m the nigga who had the shot!
Hurt your boy with a .30 toy, a nasty Glock
Hope it don’t jam on me when I have to pop
Cause the gun funny, it’s a laughing stock!
Some think I force aggression, but it ain’t false aggression
Nigga, I’m raw by mistake like the Magnum popped!
Get picked from the .30 like last drafting spots!
Now, that was hot! And ya’ll really think Reed Dollaz ready?
Nigga, this chopper deadly, *makes chopping noise*
Sounds like a professional chef chopping veggies
I’ll kick in his stomach, now everything on my feet is guts
Like a baby inside his belly
Or I’ll cock the Desi, baow his brains look like Hot spaghetti
The pasta ready!
Face cut for the work, over weight, give him surgery
Like his doctor heavy
But that’s light, I can Cave in it-
I took a shot at Roc already. Think about it
Where Jimmy at? I’m trying to see if the shooter and driver ready
What we gonna talk? Fuck that, Suge got machetes
He don’t get the pumps, this Shotgun, getting sawed off!
Or, arms raise like let me speak, heart burn; Chess keep heat
Gun in his mouth, let him eat the burner
Like giving oral sex to a bitch with STD!
I took a life and I’ll take a second like, “Let me think.”
The .4 is high, hit his pupil, the shot? ‘Fore his eye
He got shot before his eyes, I ain’t let Reed blink
Cakes up! Wait, fuck! Let’s bring the bars back
Let me guess, you couldn’t bring it in here?
It’s in the car, scrap? SMACK
We can take this battle to wherever the fuck he parked at!
“It’s young Reed, Philly boom, I really prove”
Nigga, your gat what? You better back down fore’ I back out
Cause, I don’t take shit like I’m backed up
So, back up or we jumping jack, and leaving him like a jumping jack
Clapped up!
He think he at the top of food chain
Til’ fool chain get snatched up
You said you’ll fuck John John and called him moist?
That’s mad sus’, that’s what you do dawg?
Let me move, ya’ll
Cause John John the type of nigga I’ll make a move on
John John the type of nigga you’ll make a move on
But fuck fighting, if he move wrong, we ain’t fightin’
I’ma shoot dawg, ya’ll ain’t catch it?
That’s one of his moves, dawg
I was straight to the hammer, we don’t do paws, nigga
You trash and you’re a bitch, that’s two flaws
For telling a couple stories, I’ll knock him down two floors
Busted head, broken knee and a tooth loss
He won’t get two fl- BRONX!

[Verse 2: Reed Dollaz]
I said, Cake Life, right? That’s what you claim?
That’s what you stand by? Word?
Well, I think all ya’ll are bitches, pussy niggas need a tampon
This battle is war, you done stepped into a land mine
Yeah we both throwing them punches, but I land mine!
Shotty hit the floor, make the ceiling drop
Buckshot pellets make a nigga milly rock
I’m from the era where you had to be really hot
When you can only rap about guns that you REALLY shot
Nowadays, niggas lyin’ on they Shmurda Gang
Making up guns, I ain’t never heard the name
Stop lyin’ nigga, you ain’t never serve the ‘cane
You had an after school job, talking crack, you the Burger King
Don’t make me drive through, cock it, put the wop it to you
Yao Ming with the thing, shoot a Rocket through you
Big dog in the game, you a pocket poodle
Heard you was the plug lil nigga, I’ll sock it to you!
I knew niggas was gonna bring up that in the car/John John shit
But before John John evolved, I was in John John’s picks
On interviews they asked who inspired, I was on John John’s list
That’s why I never believe a bar that came out of John John’s lips
Dwight Howard how I hug the block, rap Gods
We’re the juggernauts, gun but you, give your jug a knot!
Nigga’s is sick, you think the God won’t bless you
This .4 pound will drop 9 on you like Van Exel, the blam stretch you
I’ll pop it if you get too close or put the 7 on his chest
Like I shot Kukoč
I’m too dope, too real for this URL/Smack shit
Cause I be out in Philly in the trenches with the trap shit
.57, FN plastic, all black shit
A handgun with .223’s; that’s tragic!
Laser on it, no need for aim, I just go off beam
Top open, his top smoking, that’s how you blow off Steams!
Don’t make me hit your crib tweekin’ wit’ the trey pound out
Give you a pound out this trey to catch a Greyhound out
You fabricated and animated, your life a foosie
You kill niggas in bars, not wit’ a knife or Uzi
We catch ya bitch in Co-op my youngin’ light a doobie
Wes Craven when I’m wavin’ the Wesson don’t make me write a movie
I had them hitters, by the door by the peep hole waitin’
Clip full of bald heads like chemo patients
We killin’ everything, dawg you won’t leave no statements
Even though I got a lawyer that’ll beat those cases
Sick of these fake fucks, ’bout to get they wings plucked
Faggot ass niggas runnin’ ’round screamin’, “Cakes up.”
Dawg, where I’m from, that’s some homo shit
Cause when her cakes up, it’s bouncin’ on my pogo stick
See this fo’fo’ got a kick like a dojo flick
And we don’t see no, hear no, don’t know shit
I was about to hit y’all wit’ this rap god scheme
But instead I’ma give y’all the definition of what a rap god mean
Y’all ready? Y’all ready?
It means I birthed and fathered you niggas right from the very start
I mean I died and bled for you niggas, I got a heavy heart
Losin’ ya faith in the god is not very smart
Not I’m back to fuck up the globe and I talkin’ every part
First stop, right to NY, straight to the Bronx wit’ it
Right to Chess door, bow down, nigga this god given
Snatch Rex up by the collar, nigga y’all all seen it
Doomsday o’clock {crowd is too fucking loud to hear the rest}

[Round 2: Chess]
Round one, y’all think I was playin’?
Round two I’m finna tweak out insane
I aim and take this G out his game
Leave Reed red, a stomach shot will knock an E out his name
Game, I amaze the crowd on fuckin’ sight
Frosty the Snowman, watch a cold, three round body come to life
Yikes
Bein’ gentle in bed, I’m fuckin’ nice
Reed, do what’s fuckin’ right
Put on for ya team, ya town…the Philly niggas doin’ fuckin’ life
Better pray for ya dawg Aak
This Philly nigga gonna get more bars than bricks of raw got
If it’s war, then it’s war Aak
Sharp shooters on the beach, get him sniped by the ocean, this a sure (shore) shot
Chin check him, get every nigga jaw dropped like they all shocked
Since you already losin’ here, I’ll put a round to your top like a bald spot
And if he talk hot, I stretch niggas, then put him back in place
Like, “Do your warm up then get in ya floor spot”
I bet he’s an informer, snitchin’ and givin’ the law drops
Niggas drive by he the type to call cops
And put the pigs onto the plates, like pork chop boys stop
So you a fuckin’ bitch and you a fuckin’ snitch?
And y’all thought he was beatin’ me? This nigga double lit
You don’t wanna spit raps? Twin MAC’s, I get it double lit
S-s-s-s-s-Smack, I ain’t tryin’ to copy respect, I’m tryin’ to double it
Fuck ya clique, boy I’ll chop ya legs off for tellin’ me who runnin’ wit
Nigga you wanna flip? Go call your connect then cut a brick
Or bag up a zip, cause I’m not the one you want it wit’
Half the shit he say, don’t make fuckin’ sense
His words, off track…so why he run his lips?
Just because you came prepared don’t mean you gonna win
The handshake after this battle, don’t mean we fuckin’ friends
You in your bag? I’m in my fuckin’ bin
Spend dollars on Dollaz, I’ll put a check up on him like a worried friend
The old slammy, just like Reed, it got a rusty pin (pen)
Before I leave the crib I stuff the Glock, females workin’ out her muffin’ top
I dip after I tuck it in
It’s still “Fuck NWX”, Shine I scream blood again
And that lil’ church nigga Saga just make me wanna sin
He wanna be closer to God-BLAOW, lucky him
Shut up nigga, let me watch my language, you an F’in’ nerd
Hittin’ me up for a battle, you got some F’in’ nerve
I’ll talk to you to give you my style
Cause after God speak, you supposed to spread the word
Reed chill, I’ll be back to you in a second bird
You told Chilla since he the King Pen, he gettin’ drugged
Lord, that’s how I know you ain’t seasoned
Cause I’m waitin’ for Chilla Jones to give me a reason
To leave him, bleedin’
We can do it now, fuck the Prep, we both beat him
This nigga boastin’ about Boston? Shesh, this nigga beastin’
Cause my niggas from Boston told me he a weak bitch, G shit
Type to get rocked dead in his mouth for speakin’
Get drugged lord, run in ya trap don’t [?] with King Pen
I’m the truth and I get any nigga that lie buried
This his last battle, it’s quiet, I’m puttin’ Reed (read) on the shelf like libraries
I’m very, upset we didn’t use a [?] problem
If I lose patience (patients), he gotta find a doctor
Loud ratchet, with a lil’ one on the side that’s baby mama drama
Rip ya daddy’s spinal cord, baby from Dinosaur I’ll knock the [?]
How he gon’ deal wit’ me? I done killed for free
I had a passion for this before I clocked dollars
I ain’t one of them niggas that did this just for a buzz
I’m just addicted to rappin’, B
You ever seen Faculty?
Well he knows the pen is a drug
When he gets rich, I bet he prolly spend all his money on the best whips
But when bread’s involved you gotta use intelligence dough
So I be coppin’ a regular car for detectives
Speakin’ of detectives, check this
Like listenin’ to somebody insult you
Keep hittin’ him up like, “I really need somebody to talk to.”
I be finna to take back like sore loser takin’ the wrong move
I still know grimy niggas with loaded tools
Whatever they couldn’t afford to text (TEC) book like poor students
Palmin’ heat, takin’ away from all fools for more food
Cause they gotta eat, I ain’t sayin’ that robbin’ is all cool
But think ahead, they called Rex cause it’s either you suck or rule (oral)
Time

[Round 3: Reed Dollaz]
I said, this ain’t ya average Smack rap
This that, nigga I’m back, now front and get smacked rap
Put the K over the shoulder, couple clips in the knapsack
Pop 30 and let the stock drop like NASDAQ
This ain’t even a battle no more this real and fake
And since it is, I already won but niggas still debate
That .44 Mag will have the cops on a [?]
Cause the shot broke every bone in his skull, they couldn’t tag a face
The first 48 we let the first 40 quake
Then ask his mom to help carry the casket at shorty wake
They got me back up on this Rambo shit, niggas in trouble god
K over the shoulder, deuce five in my bitch Wonderbra
Chess, you don’t want it wit’ me youngin’
Since when has it been cool to disrespect?
I’m yo’ fuckin’ OG youngin’
So when you win awards think of me youngin’
Cause if I wasn’t fuckin’ ya mom, without me you wouldn’t be nothin’
Lyin’ in ya raps how you be shootin’ the .8
We checked his record, only prior was a truancy case
Nigga you lyin’ (lion), play gorilla til you in the zoo wit’ the apes
Niggas is hungry, can’t bar ’em in cause they’ll chew through the gate
That steel blow when the body drop I’ll…
Heel toe wit’ a steel toe boot on ya face
Lil’ nigga you a child to me
When I see you I see I, damn, I’m so proud of me
And I don’t rap for the crowd you see
Real niggas gon’ love it, pussy niggas gon’ stay quiet so fuck it
Six rings on like I’m MJ
All off the block like Dikembe
Kept a new whip like Kinte
Ballin’ on these new niggas, pink hat where the brim lay
Try to count me out, how dare niggas?
Fourth quarter tongue out, scare niggas
Check the stats, how the fuck you compare
Niggas ballin’ on niggas since Jordan had Air nigga
Throwback jersey and some 1’s on
One false move then the gun’s drawn
Bet five seconds left on the clock, better watch I’ll drop when you niggas beater buzz drawn
I said, nigga king me now or should we wait ’til later?
Run through every rapper alive, trust me nothin’ can save ya
I’ve been spittin’ that fish scale you feel it it’s in braille
So when I cross the finish line I fish tail
I’ve been hated, beaten, stoned and crucified
For tryin’ to bring this east coast back to save you and I
And all the strip club Molly music has gotten to us
The late great Big, Stack Bundles, Pun was my influence
Step in the square I dare, I prepared ya nooses
East coast savior, the east coast mayor, the people rooting
I been givin’ you mad bars in my music
He won a couple battles and he king overnight? Fuck is you stupid?
King of this URL nigga? That’s blasphemy
Cause I’m the god so that’s just somethin’ I had to see
And fuck the mainstream, underground I’m glad to be
I’ll rise on the seventh day, you’ll bow to your majesty
Somebody tell Big Poppa I gotcha
Goin’ Back To Cali like riots all up in Compton
{Chokes}
[?] drown a bitch in the tub til she perish
Drum clip like a wheel, hold a hundred like a Ferris
Talk that shit across the street, don’t come near us
Might catch me out in DC thuggin’, right up in Edgewood
With Mike D’Angelo nigga because my crack good
I fluff my pillows up, I made my bed good
Might hit a blue hood, might hit a red hood
Shit you might catch me anywhere long as the bread good
Might be in any club, long as my Sig good
Sig Sauer I hit ’em then call my lawyer
They try to ship me out Georgetown like I’m a Hoya
But the Coupe like white rice, inside like a goya
And I dropped almost close to a bean, no what I mean?

[Round 3: Chess]
I’m glad you ain’t hop up in this ring for nothin’
You got experience on ya side nigga, teach me somethin’
I wasn’t big on attention, I ain’t fiend to be seen in public
And yeah I gained a lil’ fame in this game but that wasn’t the biggest reason of it
Started battlin’ cause I needed niggas to black on
Like back home I knew this little girl, she was mad strong
Grew up in the poor house, her family did her mad wrong
She used to cut her body and cry herself to sleep to them sad songs
Her mother was an addict on smack, that her step pops used to smack on
He took the EBT card til the stamps and the cash gone
She had to steal outta stores just for somethin’ to snack on
And even when her mom made food she had to use the same spoon that her mother put the smack on
Shit was rougher than shorty hair
Shit, if she was still around I would’ve brought shorty here
Just to show her somethin’ different from the wars and tears
And all affairs gave her step pops a head shot cause she lost it there
Watched that man go after hittin’ that apple, it ain’t as peachy as it all appears (a pears)
39 wit’ a birthday comin’, the .40 near
Nicest to the trashiest, I’ma make ’em all aware
It’s like my girl sad and I’m always there
I’m wipin’ out all the tears (tiers)
I’m all types of savage
When I ain’t have money for a chain, I had guys to snatch it
Pelle Pelle, if he wanted the icey jacket (ice he’d jack it)
My nation got no chill you can’t stop my movement like I’m hyperactive
Get bad luck seat in the fire, that’s white lighter habits
I ain’t even wiggin’ yet
I can raise spirits blacker than human form like a silouhette
Put this baby to sleep, my animals on his head like a pillow pet
This nigga knows I’m his biggest threat
But my slip ups will cause him to get shot if I keep chokin’ I’m grippin’ necks
Gettin’ dirty wit’ a sweet 16, like a B-Day girl in a shitty dress
Get him bum rushed, drugged and boxed like a homeless man on crystal meth
Get napped in here, black fist or the metal nigga, pick ya death
You ’bout it, ’bout it, nigga kill that
Play fightin’, you ain’t real scrap
T.I. beanies, the hollow TIP’ll tilt hats
Steel clap
“Bro that nigga dead”, I still clap
So the spirit that’s leavin’ his body can feel that
Real rap, I ain’t kiddin’ witchu homie
When I’m toastin’ the cig’ (Sig) at him, I ain’t givin’ him a bogey
Put a round to his head, two dots plus a cut, looks like a serious emoji
I don’t miss shots, I’m hittin’ niggas homie
If I Set It Off, one ratchet busts
Cause the only bitch to get away was Stony
When it was our time to shine we had to take risks (wrists)
And I’ll fuck around and get him for his Rollie
Nigga you don’t know me
Difference between us? You had yours in the car dawg
Nah, that’s realistic, real shit
But I didn’t have weapons in the ring
I’m hardcore, snap wit’ raps, flippin’ wit’ bars like I’m parkour
Ghetto nigga side shot, look like I’m havin’ trouble openin’ the car door
That chopper in the street you better guard yours
Hear that Big Poppa in the field, that was Hard Ball (boy)
That shit came from miles away, and he ain’t get the picture
In Hardball, Miles is the pitcher
{slight choke}
Listen nigga, I’m not one of them dudes you killed as a kid spittin’ nigga
I’m from the south Bronx, I ain’t south Bronx represented nigga
I feel sorry for the fans that ain’t buy tickets nigga, they finna lose out
He got left ghost now it’s boo or it’s spooked out
Beat his ass, still whipped the tool out
Bullets kickin’ out in the last second like a two count
Keep dumpin’ the can’ like I’m tryin’ to get all the juice out
Mama’s children behind the buildings lettin’ kabooms out
I’m talkin’ cannonballs in back of the crib without a pool house
Chess vs Gwitty, rappin’ wit’ gum
Boy I’m tryin’ to see whatchu (chew) ’bout
All for havin’ a loose mouth
Wreckin’ you was in my Born Legacy
I was destin’ to, Chess the truth
Respect ya elders? Nigga respect ya youth

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