T-Top vs. Ill Will [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Ill Will]
I heard you got some shit you got to talk about Yak
I even brought the bucket, so you could talk about that
But this morning, y’all…I asked Charlie Clips for a li’l spark
You know, I was schemin’ about
The nigga DNA walked up
I said, “Bro, this confidential. Don’t be speakin’ this out.”
So if y’all see a funny look on my face…
It’s ‘cause he said somethin’, and DNA was speakin’ it out
And we gon’ have to fight
Since he the Champ, and look like Leon Spinks in the mouth!
Nigga, you-
He gon’ talk about Houston references, rappers that he don’t really fuck with, and hoods he ain’t been in, and that’s that
But y’all gon’ watch me drop Top, and Top gon’ drop: R.I.P Fat Pat!
But on a more serious note…
(*sings*) Big fat funky Terrelllll….
Big fat funky Terrelllll…
Sing it with me, y’all!
Big fat funky (Terrelllll!)
Son, go, go!
Big fat funky (Terrelllll!)
All right, you should be thankin’ me, Melvin
I’m the reason that your shit evolved
2015, you woulda got killed usin’ that dope, boy: I’m fentanyl
You should be thankin’ me, Melvin
If we battled back then, you wouldn’t have took the crown home, Top
But don’t get the strap, get the shovel
Twisted Metal: I’m ‘bout to clown on Top!
Talkin’ tough on the Internet, like he know me or somethin’
But every time I’m around the Bear, he cool as fuck
He must think I’m Mowgli or somethin’!
But if he in my hood, he better boo-
Naw, I’m on some other shit
Like I’ll shoot everybody you really love, let’s make that very clear
Hit your bitch, Petey Pablo: that freak’ll leak (Freak-a-Leak)everywhere!
Little Peggy Sue fit right in my shoe, and she used to the beef
Oh, this gon’ make Top hurt…she must be usin’ her teeth!
But let’s keep it all the way 100 for a minute
Why you tellin’ all these people you sold all that dope when you really didn’t, bitch?
I hate these “sold a few nickel-rocks and middleman the ounce, so now they ‘gettin’ it’”
My nigga had to buy me a bus ticket to get to his first PG
Ol’ funny dude!
You forgot Miltown had to take care of you, my nigga, and keep your stomach full!
So when was you Top-lo Escobar?
When was the sales comin’ through?
I mean, was you sellin’ the dope…and the money, too!?
He a fraud nigga!
I sold weed, and sold crack
I never sell or move coke
He was with Harold if you seen Melvin and the blue notes
But I already knew, though
My young’un said, “Bro, you gotta kill him”
So I took the boy word
Mouth shot: now he lookin’ like Zoidberg!
You ain’t grizzly! You a fuckin’ Berenstain, Bear!
Shots hit you and Brizz…but you gon’ watch me burn Steen, Bear!
It’s like that
You brought out a dancin’ nigga for JC…I like that
But for the coke, I’ll bring another pop to flame Top: it’s Mike Jack!
I fuck with Texas!
I pick up, he get a L in the round…the Trump elections
Biscuit out, then I turn it down like I don’t fuck with breakfast!
The MAC pop
Kid in House Party: you gettin’ laid flat, Top
Problem with me? I’m in Fuquay at every function
Strip bare, then the bear arms on the Bear
BOW! Now the Bear can barely function!
I know about ya bitch, nigga
Why’d you get her pregnant?
Oh, you ain’t know he finna be a daddy? (Nah)
Rex told me them back shots so deadly, he call her “Rickey in the alley”
You mad, nigga?
Is you mad, nigga!?
Well, I’m glad, nigga!
‘Cause the Glock is bustin’
Big ratchet, clip full of cold sores
It’ll do Top disgusting!
Stupid heaters!
Mo’ straps than Rambo, the movie
Big bird on the Bear back…Banjo-Kazooie!
I seen you in ya lil’ video wit’ ya lil’ pewm-pewm
Take it to the streets, that’s the best sport
Ratchet hit Top with the rubber grip: she a escort
Michigan vers’ North Carolina
You think this shit better?
Well, this time out, you get the TEC (tech): I ain’t Chris Webber
I riddle niggas
Every time I hit these stages, my buzz get a little bigger
Spread all the rumors you want, I been sick of niggas
Benjamin Button: I’ve been 100 since a little nigga
But you very scary, I mean very, very scary
You gotta have ‘em in my family: it’s hereditary
So in my hood, I’m Pootie Tang, or Joe Jackson
The straps off my whip hit waist legendary!
But if he-
I know, I still fucked it up, but it was still fire, tho!
But if he had it, I’d hit his circuit
Take his jewels, he get a lit-up surface
I’m the barber fuckin’ ya mama, nigga…
I’ll line the kid up perfect
But y’all know what he gon’ do…
(*T-Top impression*)
“Houston, how y’all doin’ tonight?
I’m ’bout to tell you about a nigga that ain’t doin’ it right
He was the man at one point in time, but now he losin’ the fight…”
Yeah, bitch, you better use it tonight!
Yak Town in this BITCH!

[Round 1: T-Top]
T-Top vs. Sno
Now that’s the battle that got my name cool with the masses
Over 10 million views on Facebook…
But it was supposed to been you in that casket
They say the aura that I brung, only you coulda matched it
I mean, stardom was right there, but you couldn’t grasp it
Lost to DNA, Tay Roc, then poof, you a has-been
The Cypher, Sprite commercials, all the moves I done mastered
See, everybody catch a hot streak as you can imagine
But bein’ a star is knowin’ what to do when you have it
‘Cause after your run, we all watched the champ go down
You left, then came back tryna revamp yo’ style
I always said he was a bitch, but the fans know now
‘Cause he did more fuckin’ ravin’ than Orlando Brown!
Talkin’ ’bout, “I thought I was yo’ gunna, Smack!”
Well, first of all, if he was yo’ gunna, Smack
Ready to go dump and clap pumps and MACs
He wouldn’t be on stage talkin’ ’bout none of that
He been beggin’ me for this battle, but I ain’t want the match
Will a punching bag, just somethin’ a nigga’s son could have
I coulda brung the strap, but Cheeko told me, “Don’t come wit’ that”
OK, C…I’ll play it mellow and hold the thunder back
I’ll leave him mummy-wrapped, to the point where he gotta mumble-rap!
It soundin’ like, “Mmm-mmm-mmm-“
I ain’t hear none of that!
I was sellin’ D, Ms, Vs
I even brought the shape right back
I had practice for jack-boys tryna raid my trap
I sent riders once a week to come and take my packs
It sound crazy, but I kept the ave straight like that!
Nigga, I been plugged here for years
Dawg, I’m good up in Houston
3rd Ward to South Park, every hood up in Houston!
I call my young boys like, (*BRRR!*) “Pull up in Houston
Hit the field and leave Will full of bullets in Houston!”
(You know, Will Fuller catch bullets for Hou-?)
I came to test your drive, dummy!
I’m good if I crash
Racin’ to Ill – skrrt! – got my foot on the gas
If we collide, just know ya whole hood gettin’ smashed
Long as I hit Will wit’ a mill’, my fam’ gon’ be good when I pass!
Nigga, speakin’ of Will, he ain’t got no wheels
That’s why all his steps is hot
My swingers came with everything…except the top
I’m talkin’ 415s tryna wreck the block
‘Cause in my car club, you can’t get in without that special knock
Smack said, “Give him a chance”
Well, this that “I’mma test you” shot
And if you fail – click, BAOW! – get ya nephew shot
Spill his blood, they’re like, “Will, what a mess you got!”
Skid Row: they’ll find Ill for the next few blocks!
Niggas necks gon’ pop, then Team Homi ain’t gon’ feel as strong
I don’t mean they gave up hope, I’m just sayin’ that they Will is gone
My gun got a clip on the top, look like they built it wrong
This headshot will light his face up like the filter on
And nigga, you was wrong, actin’ like you gon’ steal Suge in Cali
Bitch was lookin’ like a real coward
Ironic he held back, but that still ain’t show Will power
It woulda been steel showers, every member in his clan catchin’ drops
In the middle of South Central, I’d have gave Willy man chest a (Willie Manchester) shot
Take his gun, shoot him in his pants with the Glock
Luther Vandross: I’mma make him dance with the pops!
The only Champ here is Top
They don’t compare us the same
And it hurt me, ’cause we supposed to be sharin’ the fame
Now you and Nitty talkin’ retirement?
It’s like y’all don’t even care ’bout ya game!
Well, when this .40 Glock spy the (Spider) Locs, I can see why they scared of the Game!
Huh? Huh?
I came in with the piece, King, I branded my lane
Stayed humble, had good energy with ample to gain
They took my kindness for weakness
It’s almost like they dared me to change
So when y’all say Tee Grizzly lost his charm
I just say, “They finally took the Bear off the chain”

[Round 2: Ill Will]
Ayo, ya moms ride (Ryda) and twerk (Twork) for drugs: she a Gooonie member…
I used to muzzle ’em (Muslim) and prey (pray) five times a day: I’m a Sunni member
I’m with Top bottom bitch, gettin’ top and the bottom mine
If Top catch his bottom givin’ top, I’m slappin’ the bottom fine!
I hit Top from top to bottom, while his bitch watchin’ Top cryin’
And if she move, I hit his bottom bitch off Top – bottom line!
I’ll fo’-fo’ or deuce-deuce ya, I’m a rude shooter
When I seen you and Goodz, I was like, “Yeah, Top big pussy: huge F.U.P.A.!”
The tre-deuce’ll pop!
If I get pissed and send some shit – BOW! (bowel) – movement stop!
Boy, I’m sicker than bare-backin’ bitches on Backpage
Cancer in its last stage
Pneumonia mixed wit’ Eazy-E in his last days!
The MAC wave
I’m tryna tell you that I’m trouble, and you can get touched
Revolver spin, then it reload
Once it loop, it’s (lupus) fuckin’ these bitch’s insides up!
In five years, I’mma be a billionaire
I’m the GOAT, but you ain’t get the picture: you Chamillionaire
He got zero chances of beating me, I’m ahead of boy
Your bitch wanna ride on Willie D, ’cause I’m a ghetto boy (Geto Boy)!
A Pimp see (C) what he missin’, so I took her and gave him slugs
He walked in the hospital Big Pokey, but then rolled out Slim Thug!
I could put some Houston niggas on your head, Top!
Or I can even have JC do it
I know that don’t make sense
Crazy how I could catch a body in Houston using J prints (Prince)
Was you really tossin’ Os?
Do you really get caught wit’ them Os?
I mean, stood on blocks and had all of it sold?
Before the pounds even touched down, you had all of ’em sold?
In raids, cops all over the kid for the dog: it ain’t Paw Patrol?!
No! He wild false
Crazy choppers: Wild Hogs
Pop off, or throw a dirty look
This magazine all about Top: it’s a dirty book
“Will, why all the gun bars?”
‘Cause I really seen the lead shots
When I was little, my daddy dumped in front of me like Craig pops!
Head shots!
If it’s any problem, the semi BAKA!
I paid a lot for this, but the kick ugly: Balenciagas!
Y’all know what rhyme with “T-Top”? (What?)
He a bitch!
And if I’m in your bae (Bay) Area wit’ the .40 (E-40), it won’t be legit (B-Legit)!
I’m the real UFF champ, and that’s facts
They ain’t even give him his 10 bands, and that’s facts
Made him write a contract to not say nothin’ about it
That’s all fine
“Glad I ain’t have them issues, King, ’cause I got all mine”
You a fuckin’ disgrace!
Now you stuck in this place
Sheesh, if you did get the money, I woulda sliced you comin’ out the bank
Bring a whole new meaning to “cut to the Chase”!
You from a ‘hood where they prob’ly had to struggle, and survive shit
I’m from a ‘hood where yo’ cousin just robbed yo’ best friend
Now you gotta figure out who to ride wit’
Facts! FACTS!
(*Will has mic issues midway through a line, runs the last two lines back*)
You came here to see who the best, and it’s over
I came here to see how far McAllen, Texas is to get to Reynosa
That’s that PLUG talk!
Oh, but he don’t know that language!
I thought you had the coke shaved
What if I cut up Raw (raw)!?
Should remind you of the old days
I got a .40, but they said Trae Tha Truth up in the building…
And on the real, Top, shiiit, my tre the truth up in the building
And they said Adrien Broner in this bitch…
And I’ll beat you up in front of him
Have you lookin’ like Adrien Broner in this BITCH!
(*Crowd goes wild after this bar*)

[Round 2: T-Top]
The nigga had the nerve to say I ain’t get 10K on UFF
I said, “Damn, here he go lyin’”
It was two $10,000 checks, my nigga, and we both got ‘em
Smack, you really gon’ let him spit that bullshit?
You ain’t gon’ go stop him?
Well, what if I put 10 Ks in his mouth: you want some gold bottoms?
Well, no problem!
I said, he mad ‘cause I blew up outta nowhere
Why would y’all let a bomb threat sit wit’ me?
I mean, he must be suicidal…or his mind playin’ tricks on him
I call Brizz, I could get ya moms head sent to me
While you get it Presidential-style
That’s a head shot in Texas like he John F. Kennedy!
With all these pawns that’s sent to me, I maneuver through ‘em well
I just play the king role, and let my queen give ‘em hell
Brizz Bishop – from Juice – ‘cause he be boomin’ wit’ a shell
And he the knight
‘Cause we see him makin’ moves across the board
They just always accumulate an L!
Huh, huh
Speakin’ of Chess
Y’all tell him I heard every time my name was mentioned
But I held onto them shots: I was babysittin’
“Top won’t give me another shot!”
So? Play the victim!
Until Top give him another shot, then he gotta stay the victim!
Brizz! Nose or the mouth?
Whichever part of the face you hit him
I’ll catch him right in (writin’) the same shit: that’s plagiarism
This ain’t one of them battles where debates come wit’ it!
No classic talk! Bizzy got paid to kill him!
You came for a body, too
But look who in that grave you diggin’
That’s Ill in a box like ya bae been itchin’!
Nigga, I know watchin’ everybody bash you in the game’s been sickenin’
Ya pockets hurt, and your back broke: you can’t shake the symptoms
I know your career went missionary once you changed ya vision
‘Cause every time he got fucked out his contracts, it left this bitch in the same position!
Like, the way Arsonal hung him out to dry
Man, that shit disgust us
‘Cause Jones had you on the line like a distant lover
When I hit him, the cops nervous just to lift the cover
They watchin’ rounds fall outta Will (wheel) like they tryna see who hit the number!
Speakin’ of numbers, a lotta recent (lottery) activity got a nigga in grip mode
My gun plug be 50-50, but I gotta see what it hit fo’
He said he got a scratch-off left, and he don’t know if he could get mo’
But if I can’t at least pick three, then what I even need to pick fo’ (Pick 4)!?
Bitch, NO!
You don’t deserve to be on NOME, but it is what it is, boy
Since you made it here, I gotta big Will (wheel) like a kids’ toy
And Team Homi ain’t jump in yet? Shit, that’s the big joy!
You finally takin’ this shit on ya own: now that’s a big boy!
And even though they gave him pennies for this card, I like Will payments
Look at the bright side: at least he get to make a light bill payment
But how y’all choose him over Mike P?
You know them Whites real crazy
They’ll prob’ly give you the beats when I tell Mike, “Will made it” (Mike WiLL Made-It)
Now if you a producer, then that line shoulda hit home
And if you like motorcycles, then these next lines should hit mo’
I had a choppa (chopper) or use the crotch-rocket when I get low
For whoever tryna back Will (wheel) up like an indo’!
I’ll let his friends know, since they ride behind Will
It’s like he drinkin’ and drivin’: they gon’ die behind Will (wheel)!
I ain’t stop beef until a nigga mama got killed!
Earthquake in the basement: I’ll traumatize Will!
We puttin’ money on his head
All my niggas got a set of skills
This ain’t a thermometer: we got a whole ‘nother test for Ill
My cousin try and hit him, then my brother try and catch the kill
My fam’ literally drew up paper to see who could get to Will!
Aye, just remind him how I got the game goin’
Summertime shootouts: it was not a safe moment
Freddy or Jason? I pull up wit’ the hockey face on him
Beat a bitch like Fabolous, and I even got a bullet wit’ his father name on it!
I had to put the choppa thang on him!
He in so many pieces, the nigga mama can’t hold him!
I’ll get him, pistol-whip him ‘til I got his cheek swollen
All he see is the numbers comin’ down like the slot machine broken!

[Round 3: Ill Will]
Big fat
No, I’m just bullshittin’…
Can y’all imagine T-Top with all his success on Thanksgiving?
“Brizz, call the kids! I’m cookin’ again!
I’ve got ribs, turkey, turkey necks
Oh, and I got them dumplings again
I got peach cobblers, pies, cakes
I even got some pudding in
Is the turkey seasoned? Oven on 275?
Well, lemme put it in!
So…somebody sent me a video…of a bitch
(Talk about it!)
She was suckin’ dick…
(Talk about it!)
It’s somebody’s bitch…
I was like, “Shit…”
So I said, “What could I do with this shit to put something rare in the mix?”
(*Ill Will pretends to pull up the video on his phone*)
That gesture right there had you scared than a bitch! (*chuckles*)
FUCK NWX! Actin’ like y’all in the field trippin’
I know a nigga in yo’ crew fuckin’ yo’ ho right now, my nigga
And you smoke and you chill wit’ him
I’ll give you a hint on who it is, my nigga!
‘Cause you the real victim!
If she was a nigga, he would still hit him
Steel hit him!
When I shoot, it’s somethin’ tragic!
So many battle rappers been in that bitch, Beasley wanna book her pussy for Summer Madness
Is you MAD, nigga!?
Well, I’m GLAD, nigga!
‘Cause you’ll ride for her, but won’t take up for yo’ mama, and that’s sad, nigga!
You don’t say shit when niggas mention her
But in the hood, if niggas got it, he recommended her
On stages, he never defended her!
So I don’t respect how these niggas got here!
Jeopardize yo’ mama respect for a top-tier and a thot cheer
Nigga, not here!
Nigga, not here!
Bring ya homeboy! I pack pistols
Dr. Evil, Mr. Bigglesworth: you’ll get a Bald Head, and the cat wit’ you!
SMACK issues!?
You gon’ talk about how I act in this bitch?
Bitch, I burnt a bridge, built another one, and came right back to this bitch!
So get in! This your box
I already picked the plot
Y’all know how y’all drink a lot of alcohol?
I smoked a SIG more (Sycamore) after I lick a (liquor) shot!
love Nina!
The aim better, and she bust cleaner
If it was really somethin’, Will be on Top house for days like, “Fuck FEMA!”
But wh-
Rest in peace, Kenneka Jenkins!
Don’t roll ya eyes!
Why you talk about a little girl that lost her life like that?
That shit hard to you?
It’s a lifelong scar to her mama, but it’s a bar to you
Then you wanna switch up when the Chi-Town niggas wanna run the fuck up
“I apologize-”
That’s when yo’ bitch level really elevated!
You can’t apologize for somethin’ that’s premeditated
So that 10K-
Aye, so that 10K you wanna bet?
Donate that to her home, bitch!
I shoulda brought her mama to slap you in the mouth for that ho shit!
Oh, shit! But I’m wit’ his ho
She say, “Will, it’s all yours”
I was laid up guarding that center, she said Top was too small for it (small forward)
But play your position, don’t get outta bounce
This tre-deuce a little trouble
He travel over here and get fouled, he gon’ get a triple-double
Now how that sound?
I wear a big crown
A sharp (Sharpe) blade’ll leave you bae-less (Bayless), then I Skip town!
Why you be lettin’ niggas tell you to suck they dick like that?
It’s like he don’t fuckin’ care…
I guess he take dissin’ like a rape victim
You know…he be fuckin’ scared!
But I aim at his head, and your head’ll just crush
K clip curl like an elephant tusk…yeah, Willy (Wooly) mammoth! (*chuckles*)
But if I aim it right, think dating site
Remember, nigga
If I don’t like this bitch, shit go left: I ain’t no tender (Tinder) nigga!
Askin’ me that question vers’ Nitty, “Why we ain’t battle on UFF?”
Soundin’ like a Bishop from the South
I should’ve said, “‘Cause you ain’t get yo’ 10 bands, bitch!” and then kicked you in the mouth!
YakTown in this BITCH!
But hold on!
It’s a lot of battle rappers in this bitch!
Y’all slowin’ it down, speed it up:
It’s a lot of battle rappers in his bitch!
been in this bitch
The 10 on my back symbolize the 10 you ain’t get!
Fuck nigga!

[Round 3: T-Top]
I mean, damn, URL, this my closing verse!
Like, fuck a casket – throw this bastard in the back and just close the hearse!
Now, I ain’t come here to make the crowd go berserk
I came here just to show y’all work
Now lemme put it in…
Say, yo, bro…we all had to sign a URL contract to stay
Nigga, that’s a given
But that don’t mean we can’t battle without Smack’s permission
If that’s the reason he left the league, well, that shows you got a lack of wisdom
I mean, you got free, Will, but you still made a bad decision
Then he told Brizz he got a nasty mouth
Huh, well, now, that’s suspicious
A gay club owner: he know about that faggot business
I know gang-bangers that hustle, they had to get it
But now they millionaires, they really went from rags to riches
He gon’ tell y’all this my mama favorite league…like she got a SMACK addiction
Or that she went broke off the glass like Shaq done hit it
Well, I heard yo’ wifey one of the mo’ nasty bitches
Make you spaghetti…then leak one of her pads up in it
Nah, nah, nah, nah!
Don’t trip, don’t trip
They say she left the Voodoo alone, and went past the Christians
Now his boo the (Buddha) one that kneel to my balls like she sack-religious (sacreligious)
See, I’m the course that was put here to crash you niggas
Came in the race late, and still managed to pass you niggas!
We top-tier, and it’s no surprise you are not here
‘Cause there’s nobody in Team Homi that ever got there
That’s why we callin’ them “the Step-Down niggas”
They hit Smack like, “Tell Top and Brizz to step down wit’ us”
No! It ain’t no reason to respect y’all niggas!
‘Cause if y’all the cleanup crew?
Well, that just mean we been here makin’ a mess out niggas!
Nigga, the only reason we step down to accept y’all niggas
‘Cause we know everybody been eatin’ except y’all niggas!
Smack neglect y’all niggas, so just know this a favor
You can give respect now, or you’ll be showin’ it later
I take the silencer off the .40 – now he know he in danger
‘Cause that puts me behind Will (wheel) with an open container
BOW! One shot, shit’ll open his brain up!
HUH!? Y’all stop playin’ wit’ me, man! Y’all niggas-
One shot, shit’ll open his brains up!
Nobody owes you this, player! You can go get your name up!
Do features, or sell merchandise to open them lanes up!
You know they book us for hosting gigs once they notice ya fame up
Shit, as long as your career been drownin’, I thought it at least woulda been soakin’ some game up!
He call my bluff, he better learn to stroll wit’ his banger
And let it ring at any time, Will: don’t be a stranger!
Or your homies get taped up, they bodies disappearin’ for months
They get the same backwoods like they sharin’ a blunt
I put Ill behind the car, start airin’ the pump
Just ‘cause I put Will (wheel) in the back don’t mean he gettin’ spared in the trunk!
Now let’s compare if you want
‘Cause I told Math, “I got a clip full of Jaheims, Just In Case”
Then you told Math, Just In Case he don’t make it home tonight, you got a clip full of Jaheims
Now, maybe it’s a whole ‘nother meaning, and I missed it, my nigga
But that sound like the same shit – he just switched it, my nigga
Then I told Math, I’ll leave him “on the wall like I can’t see from the back of the class”
He told Math, he’ll leave him splashed on the wall like it’s algebra class
Now I ain’t come here for all the nit-pickin’, my nigga
But that sound like the same shit – you just switched it, my nigga
Basically, if you wanna grow, you gotta get creative in a way
But it’s like you signed a nine-year lease
Nigga, you’re way too comfortable stayin’ in your place
He’d rather steal my bars
Now that’s a bit tasteless, I should say
It’s like Chris Brown & Lil Dicky: I guess he wanted to switch places for the day
But the difference between us, is I offed his ass, tossed him bad
You literally lost the math soon as you lost to Math
You hit Smack like, “Big homie, I done lost all the cash”
Now they gotta hit Banks to take care of Will like Carlton’s dad
He ain’t from Pontiac, that’s just the type of car he had!
I’m lettin’ all heat blast, then I’m dumpin’ at his men
You a beast on stage, but you a punk at the event
BET said, “Fuck you! You get nothin’ after this”
Just tell ‘em the Bear killed him…(a hunting accident!)

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