O-Red vs. Ill Will [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Ill Will]
Vegas, what up? (What up!?)
Y’all can’t imagine the type of situation that I’m in
I’m Wesley Snipes in Undisputed (Why?)
They bringin’ the Champion to my pen
In which I feel I got one of the best in battle rap
But y’all wanna make me the head bully
And Beasley said it’s that time of the month, so I gotta see this Red pussy
What’s poppin’, Champ?
Let’s see who got the pen, and decipher it
Pssh…what’s poppin, Champ?
Let’s see who got the sickest pen
Fuck ten bands at the end of the year…when a nigga can sign a contract and get it then
That talk stop now, and it’s full of truth
They wonder how much that belt cost…
I wonder if it’s bulletproof
I come from a horrible land
I’ll lay dormant and plan
Shooter? We wouldn’t see Red peel (pill) out of Morpheus hand!
But you got a lot of sports bars
I used to shoot for real and shoot for real
The best wit’ guns
Which means I could throw you an alley or get you left in one!
Oh, but you the bomb, though!?
I’m prepared for this
I’m talkin’ George Bush in the classroom, waitin’ on the terrorists
If he come to Pontiac, you’ll be scared to piss
He actin’ cocky, so he the one I’ll air a-
I’ll come to yo’ hood wit’ it on me, my nigga
See what the braggin’ ’bout
Y’all remember Stacy, girlfriend was askin’ for the condoms?
I got one Magnum out
Dawg actin’
These K-9 tri- dog actin’
And I’ll beat yo’ ass like those Crips did when you was false-flaggin’
You remember that?
Words can turn to violence real quick
That effect’ll domino after
Think Smokey – if I’m at yo’ door wit’ the shits, I bet yo’ mama won’t answer!
Itchin’ at his head: curious
Fo’-fo’ through the door wit’ the Tre up: Furious!
See these (CD’s)? Both airs (ears) off: I ain’t hearin’ it!
This bitch cranky, but if she ready to bust, then ain’t no mo’ Red – period!
OK, the lead is blown
Yeah, Red, it’s on
I came in your house, his bitch had on a reddish thong
I walked in, tried to read the vi-
BOW! Too late, Red, it’s gone
She holdin’ Red up like, “Red, it’s wrong!”
Then she get the TECs (text) right after – BLAOW!
She must’ve read it wrong
You ’bout to wild out on me? I ain’t believin’ that
We in Vegas…I got a rule that (roulette) if you put the .357 on Red, he can’t even black!
That’s real shit!
And I know you real pissed
Asked for a DNA test and got diagnosed wit’ some Ill shit!
Demon and misfit
(*chk-chk*) Ain’t nobody speakin’ in this bitch
.40 hit his kidney – BOW! – look like he was reachin’ for his shit
Vers’ Ave, you wore a nightgown
Vers’ Bigg K, you wore a sundress
Next, it’s gon’ be a miniskirt
But when I pull up in the van, Red dead, then the Mini skrrt!
assume, Red, want his moon red
What I do wit’ the fif’? Lunar eclipse: it’ll moon Red!
The Grimmest Reaper, spillin’ liters
Netflix, Hulu: same clips, different features!
Relentless shit
I’m in this bitch, so I’ll catch him and his family in his shit
Lift the fif’, spit the shit
Hit his chick, hit any witnesses
Then left Red over all (overall): Dennis the Menace fit!
Oh, but you the GOAT, tho’! That’s OK wit’ me
Just stay away from me
I’m higher than GOAT status, I’m a Major Key
I’m Magic Johnson – the illest nigga in the game, and the GOATs play for me

Oh, I’m like that wit’ y’all!? I’m like that wit’ y’all!?

Aye, but look, perfect strap
Erase his features: that verse was wack
But this my “I don’t give a fuck” strap
This my problem toolie
Even when I’m sleep, it’s a deuce and (seducin’) me in the bed like how yo’ mama do me
One punch, you gon’ need Ice Cubes if I Deebo Red
I know what y’all thinkin’
Friday – Red gon’ cry in the car”
But naw, it’s a Saturday – Red gon’ die in the car!
Encountered, outnumbered, outmastered, dismembered, disappeared
I burst rounds
Once we- naw, I’mma wait ‘til the third round
YakTown in this bitch

[Round 1: O-Red]
Ayo, Myron!
This for my man Butter doin’ life in the box
I will snap
This Will cat gon’ get killed – facts
Basically, what I kinda meant (condiment)?
It’s lookin’ like a disaster (Dizaster) for Ill, Mackk (Illmac)
These Midwest niggas nice
These Midwest niggas nice, right? But I’ll scope ‘em down still
It’s your turn now
No need for you to mope around, Ill
David Spade, Grown Ups 2 when I throw around steel
Big round bodyin’ Will (body in wheel): “It’s goin’ downhill!”
I got options: I could turn this to an O.J. scene
Or just hang Will (wheel) from a tree like a homemade swing!
I’m really vicious
His homies gon’ fall apart any minute
Them niggas bound to be divided when Willie Lynchin’
You gassed up!
I told Smack, “Pay me the bread. I’ll leave that boy sleep”
Small Soldiers: a couple chips could make the toys speak
O block’ll leave him on O Block like the boy Keef
Find this nigga dead in Chicago if Ill annoy (Illinois) me!
Will, you gassed up like you some type of Pontiac issue
You wouldn’t air O-Red (arrow red) wit’ a Pontiac symbol
Bring Pontiac wit’ you – I’mma ride like a Grand Am
And fire birds (Firebird) on your ‘hood like a Trans-Am
This shit a Grand Slam!
Lemme see – one, two, three, four – yup, Grand Slam
I’m sendin’ four home when I use the pipe
Doug Pederson: I could make an Eagle look super nice
Cop-killers cruise through Kevlar
If I shoot it right, that vest’ll (vessel) disappear – this triangle Bermuda-like
I dump iron!
If one flyin’, a chump dyin’
Ratchet hold six like Badu when her son cryin’
Nah, nah, I said I dump iron, one flyin’, a chump dyin’
Six – that mean Seven by dude (Badu) when her son cryin’
I said, BAH!
The other six I clap kill them bitches
Indo style: whoever back Will (wheel) get lifted!
I mean business when I’m lettin’ the tool burst on this fool turf
Shootin’ the Calico(e) in an “R.I.P. Boon” shirt!
I’ll rob him for that back half Smack gave him, and it’s a go
Take his lil’ money and bet it on a ten-to-fo-
See how I went from ridin’ all on the Yak to bettin’?
That’s a bar, but he ain’t catch it
Ride on a Yak: Tibetan?
I aim at his midsection
Let it ring, Ill open (elopin’) in Vegas – I guess the ratchet ain’t want the big weddin’
Elopin’ in Vegas – I guess the ratchet ain’t want the big we-!?
I’m a heavyweight
Who you and yo’ bench pressin’?
I got a left hook strong as an instant
This big bitch get a chin dent
One (*smack*) leave Will (wheel) wobblin’ like the rim bent
Then I’m back in my killa mood
Lift the tool, put so many holes in Will (wheel), he’ll need a whole ‘nother inner tube
Talkin’ like he’ll slump Red
I dump lead
Silencer, right by Will (wheel)…look like a stunt peg!
Pew! Pew!
I said, I cause blowback when the can’ spittin’
Now Will thoughts on the machine: that’s Transcendence
I’ll body him and that fake-ass Kevin Durant wit’ ‘im
You be actin’ tougher than Ray-
You gassed up, my man?
Why you actin’ tougher than Ray-Ray when Bobby Johnson left the block?
I bear arms, Berettas, Glocks, and Wessons, akh
Fah pah the dah hah, ah lah hah pah
BAH! Wah the stah, then wah mah chah drah!
Everybody stand patient
I know the battle just started, but fuck it, here go that (Translation!)
I said, your man over there actin’ tougher than Ray-Ray when Bobby Johnson left the block
I bear arms, Berettas, Glocks, and Wessons, akh
Fuck pointin’ the deuce here, I’ll let a Heckler pop
BOW! One to the sternum, then Willie man chest’ll (Manchester) drop
No respect for opps
I said, look-
He still talkin’! That’s why it’s no respect for opps!
He get slayed out this bitch!
Yeah, talk to him
Keep him in line, Will (in-line wheel), ‘fore I roll a blade (rollerblade) down his shit!
Or I could break down your bitch wit’ your ratchet
I’ll put a part in her
I load it up and lift Will back
I hope he guardin’ her
When shit get thick, I’ll back down wit’ the grip
Leave shell cases the size of crack vials on the strip
Then mimic his slogan wit’ the last round in the clip
I line it up…BOW!
It’s goin’ through YakTown and his (in this) bitch!
Ya heard me!?
Jersey!

[Round 2: Ill Will]
Before I came to URL, I was inspired by O-Red
I watched every battle, felt like he was the best nigga doin’ it in the game
You feel what I’m sayin’? You can’t take that from me
Far as Jersey? Best nigga there
You can’t debate that wit’ me
You can’t debate that wit’ me

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