JC vs. Nu Jerzey Twork

Lyrics

[Round 1: JC] They said you can't really be effective twice in seven days Y'all saw me in New York & LA, it was cool But if we are to say that it's true I did absolutely nothing seven days ago… but waited for you Y'all take a picture of him Y'all won't even recognize him Even the photo will be for his maker Welcome to my turf, Twork See Twork turf is usually the stage But these poles won't be in his favor Bitch, I spray the snub, drop a dollar bill And a MAC'll make Twork look worse than The Players Club Not only do they believe you 'bout that life But you walk like it and talk like it Even get it off the arm like a palm psychic But now your future in my hands Shit, "I was on every card last year except Ascension… But you was on it!" See, it's all about core progression 'Cause at that moment you were a part of Cor' progression "BIGGA 9!" Nah, he get the .45: simplified Then we black in when we move out: gentrified Y'all been seein' me black on a professional level These bricks, they kinda bring out my nigga side Now we on the scene with the shotty Meaning your debt is unpaid, "Mr. Criminal Smooth" So now we gon' put a lien on the body Nigga, it's all this jumpin' around shit, you came in too loud first See, and the more you chance it gon' make this shit high school dances, and you know they don't even allow twork But you still exist thinkin' you can reach 'Cause you street more than some of time? Bitch, being in the 'hood don't cover them lines I'ma repeat that: being in the hood don't cover them lines But back to the bars 'cause I couldn't help the line Bitch, the 11 ring like Celtic Pride He be sleepin' for good Cook him first, yeah when I put in twork I also let the nose ring in the hood Bitch, believe it, I'm squeezin' A couple hit him and his bitch like they swingin' He got clapped from his mans But I was behind the shot like Smack with the cam And then I rolled up smooth You know Smack wanna be in front of the cameras like he a model now, especially when he throw up food You on the menu, Jerooz, all kinds of slaughter Kill everything that believe in Twork Even yo bitch get beat for Twork like her mama caught her I lift the MAC, split his hat And you came deep Whoopi, if they don't want none, don't assist a act I hit the hangouts first then the house second Then they get laid in groups Bitch, I wave the deuce like I'm scout pledgin' It's all about how you present yourself Remember that, the fifth'll clap Caskets: he get suited for the last time with his men in black You wild basic, star player? LeBron James--? Bitch, the only thing y'all got in common is line placement And now ain't no crowd savin' "Strapped In", bitch these small rooms are padded You see how we style tamin'? And just for the Proof, I'm on stage with the Shotgun Metal blowin', I'm the Midwest Miles Davis Bitch, we crushin' grooves You could be with 100 dudes and be the first to pop But when that ratchet spittin', Twork'll stop Yeah bitch, these is money moves It's bodybags at every battle, make sure ya homie find one But do not jump in that bitch yet 'cause you just lost round one [Round 1: Nu Jerzey Twork] Look who's back in charge From me, you've never heard one complaint if it was any cash involved Even when they had Cort' appointed I stood firm And somebody this strict'll turn these niggas down Don't even take it past the bar Now that I know you veterans better It's no more praise for my idols like Nebuchadnezzar Seekin' gold but found the pieces of scrap and settled for lesser Well then (weldin'), two black Smiths (blacksmiths) And you'll have a meltdown, I put this metal together I made this a topic Not to mention all the goals that I'll later accomplish Niggas tried to steal a page from my book But wasn't able to find it You? Not that difficult to read through Especially when this is all you bring to the table of contents I'm the game changer Even at your burial with guns you still in grave danger Switch the plot: I pull up to your crib with shots The Bulldog kickin' like it's its itchy spot My grievances And after the body, I showed you what the head procedure is To wipe the prints Even put water on the serial (cereal) like Craig eatin' it Nobody's safe, ya head discombobulate I rarely miss with a scope but if so the Glock posts beside the waist Pussy, this charge (discharge) any bitch my eye view late (ovulate) You talkin' battle tactics? I'm talkin' more men (Mormon) at ya place than a tabernacle With a mag' to lend (Magdalene) Givin' a box to JC like it's Alabaster I'm so ferocious, I drive by and overload clips Headshot ya mom' daughter I bend back and put a bullet in the skull of yo sis (scoliosis) It's my hand on the weapon Revolver, cross sections: camera projection Or let it rotate in the face like a random selection My shit'll shoot This high image you paintin' yourself, it just isn't you Just a bunch of arrogant talk we gotta listen to Well now, you gotta pay for your mouth: kissing booth I'm movin' different Way before SMACK, I been amazing, I'm truly gifted The first to enter great (integrate) in the class like Rudy Bridges Jersey, man [Round 2: JC] I re-invent myself for a few reasons, new season Got him facin' the barrel Starin' down at the TECs like he proof-reading "IT SHOOK HIS PRIDE!" What a surprise, I'm not shook! And all eyes on me And I'ma make him look worse than that movie made Pac look It's just me and you in this ring, ignore the priors Don't even corncern yourself with the Bear When only you can prevent when the .4 is fire (forest fire) Now I'm in yo neighborhood lookin' for you Yeah we gotta send a permanent mesage Door to door like Charron with the furnace inspection Of course we checkin' for you We gon' lift him off his feet like real love for the first time But it ain't the scene we let on, I'm talkin' Steve to Stephan What's in that chamber makin' nerds fly Nigga, holy smokes! This is how it's supposed to go And y'all both the faces but it ain't really a place for Twork on a Totem Pole I came out East to you Take ease to suit up or get laid in a permanent Easter suit Y'all niggas come to me and get the coffins You get the same symptoms, lay with 'em I kill like OJ with these words But most niggas'll quit and I just got a way with em Now we doin' the most We got the nigga tied, sittin', hands to both ankles Then capped the nigga: Bojangles With no remark Everybody gotta make a sacrifice, you just gotta know your part That's why you die in the ring Every time you overpay in pride you owin' heart (Owen Hart) And real niggas gon' hold you to that And you know it's a fact Now the nigga screamin' "MADNESS!" when the show finna start Leavin' with a hole in his heart, the REAL opening act And if I get the strap in, it's to clap at the opponent But now he latched in and that rope can snap at any moment Bitch, let him drop! I (eye) go missin' forever like I'm Fetty Wap Until they done tryna find me Then I come back and smoke his boy like he the Ivory It's a method to it You get this missile (dismissal) as early as a special student You wanna know an apparent fact? You gettin' outclassed but however you feel, trip (field trip) And wherever you wanna take it we bustin' there and back It's the only way to test a nigga will in this sport Is to hang these niggas' jerseys while they still on the court It's a business list Add it up, simple arithmetic I caught him on the road home He think he safer, I get the razor, then flip like the old phones His bitch saw the strap then ran in the house Like a ghost spoke to her Then I sent a shot through the house, made a hole close to her That bitch was big enough to get the shit crackin' Like the first game of the season… a real home opener My name was mentioned and the game was shifted That's 'cause this nigga is the truth I got in here and called the top nigga out Just like every nigga in this do But he responded… to the little nigga, too And y'all hyped it… but I guess you really gotta soup a man to get him in the booth But I'm a sick one Everything you brought today, we've been done I even get y'all eulogies out the same book y'all get y'all JC flips from Yes, this crafted end to you is actually biblical A real movie, the ending to a real Goonie And he might not even look the same after these bars But trust me, it's still Gucci [Round 2: Nu Jerzey Twork] In your previous battles, you glide and cruise This one… not as smooth I believe you to be an amazin' writer But the facades that come with it? I'm not in tune Your fans actually think you J.C., you got them fooled I knew you wasn't J.C. when they gave your body to the Cave And somehow you just couldn't get Roc to move I'm on to you, since you been back you been killin' bruh And yet and still they haven't given you one veteran, the shit is us You had Chef Trez, Chess, Rum Nitty They even flew you out to Cali for some bigger bucks And now you right back here in this small room, well nigga shucks Is you sick or what? You think you gon' come here and mix with us? Then get the-- give it up! You see what I'm holdin' on my waist? I'll wet up every dry spot you been controllin' with your pace Always chasin' Lux… Well now you run to somethin' loaded in ya face Too many bodies on the weaponry My honesty gon' be the death of me Glock dirty, even tell you it's unclean before you touch it: leprosy Not a arm neglected I scattered out the throwaways then got 'em all collected In a box that I keep those in (dozin'): narcoleptic Had the double-barrel shotgun, sawed the weapon Stomach shot, that's for anybody small and testin' (small intestine) With blind anger I can't seem to get my mind made up MAC-11, deuce-deuce, .45 the tie-breaker I ride ragin', I'm in Pontiac in a Pontiac Out the window clappin' with some big shit *BRRR---* I even had a automatic in the stick shift If I get to airin' it's over I kill this "new generation Lux" then who carries the culture? This shotgun it's very explosive A bullet from the 12 went missin' But found JC in the temple like Mary and Joseph I'm layin' you flat I'll even come to where you stayin' with gats Shoot up your family house 'til it's an abandoned house I even put a bullet in boards, I leave nothin' hangin' intact (tack) Imagine me distressed I'll even let y'all choose my gun like: Magnum or the TEC? See, that was a delayed reaction And whatever JC bring back get the Lazarus effect I'm blazin' on him He runnin', leg shot, the sprint gets slower: data shortage Blade is on me Tucked, keep cuttin' up my jeans: Faded Glory Nigga, use ya membrane You'll lose more than a battle if I use this big K (Bigg K) The chop one foot like Kunta Kinte And for my new niggas comin' in, I can catapult ya I'm the one cultivatin' the soil for aggriculture Ya bitch get one right in the dome, the ladder spark her Make somethin' hot go straight in her head: Madame Walker Jersey! [Round 3: JC] I'm the official threat! Y'all watch this animal grow, off the chain like a Gigapet Now murders lurkin' in the shadows They might have a warrant out on my silhouette Even though most of these bodies was force-fed Now it's new niggas No work, just a finger gettin' a melon sliced like Fruit Ninja They all knew this shit was gon' be a landslide It's not much youth comparin' Shit, I'm part of the main event like Gucci marriage If anybody say I'm anything less than, I resent the shit I don't even talk to dummies, I'm not a ventriloquist I just chill, it's a habit; it's the sauce, I pack it (packet) I'm kinda meant (condiment) for this I just show up, show out and rope 'em after You stall on 'em and go postin' after I ball on 'em like motion capture Let's be real, Twork, you might not be pussy But you definitely not the only nigga actually clappin' What, you think Ma$e the only nigga takin' it past the rappin'? Nigga, you high? You ain't the only gangsta nigga livin' in this room But you might be the only nigga to die! 'Cause it's too late to stop once I start it on him His soul catch a direct flight, dearly departed on him No piece, the muzzle on the piece got him puzzled like Jigsaw 'Cause the target's on him It's just designed in me to utilize my time swiftly But a nigga still drivin' with the hammer like John Henry "SHOOK HIS P--" bitch, look! You want some irony? Twork ain't got shit shook And he know it's lies The lion in me started in March unrattled And by December (Simba) I still control the pride It's all these lines he keep usin', he get the crowd hyp-- These niggas dyin' for a promo And they wonder why they see me flex when I see BS (CBS)? It's cuz I (eye) should be the logo I show up, show out and stop life Calculate the steps, only take a risk (wrist) when the watch nice And now ya image ruined before you started it He still had his game plan on his looseleaf But he died with little brandin' (Brandon) like Bruce Lee It's all that jumpin' around shit—it's the percs, ain't it? Oh, mixed with the white girl? If it ain't the voice, it gotta be the molly that got Twork famous 'Cause it ain't your talents I seen all this shit before you gained a habit I'd be complimentin' you to say it's average But whatever, bruh… Red dot on the can, eight shots gon' send seven up (7 Up) Nigga, here's where it ends: you got bars But all them years in the pen you should have a better one And then it's me: the crypt keeper Y'all hear Twork and think he was a quick keeper And sent him to the only nigga who wear a hood more: the Grim Reaper And it's me, the cut-off to ya ramblin' speech And you can tell how I'm cut off the arm like a amputee And like a nigga that just came late on the first day, I fire fast Get one of you new hoes dead If this was somethin' you thought I was dreadin', cut it… like the new O-Red Dog should give up Summer Madness you missed a big shot (Mr. Big Shot) like Chauncey Billups And now you just took a different nigga See, dead bodies'll never work Next time book a zombie instead of Twork… shit could be a thriller Twork, it is over with Overdose from the dopest pen And y'all know I wrote the shit 'Cause these battle turn into a eulogy: My Condolences [Round 3: Nu Jerzey Twork] I don't feel frightened Your gun talk is equivalent to the Abominable Snow Man, nigga We heard about it, we just never seen real sightings What I admire is how you lack height but still fightin' Just don't let this Napoleon complex get you killed like him I'm all in the mix, on the block every morning My coffee beans and gunpowder started to blend Fuck a glove, it's enough rubber on the handle when I'm palmin' the grip Tommy, the drum'll peel like j'aime belle ta', pardon the French I leave no room between us Just be alerted by my arrival like new releases Chest shot, leave JC dancin': I'll jubilee him This I pull (disciple) behind JC like a true believer Drop the gun, pick up the *pffttt*, I'll ruin ya features You can catch the backlash or get ya back stabbed Choose at leisure! How you want it, JC? Jesus Christ or Julius Caesar? I've did my research I've studied you from the beginning to here at your end I know each verse You try to stand your ground the Florida way then it's feet first I told you back then you was the greatest; it's me, Twork And I know you got this five-second rule-- *BAOW* NOW EAT DIRT! You'se a dancer, we should take you as a big joke for that Not 'cause you dance but because your desperate cries for attention just went from Chris Stokes to Smack Let me ask you one damn question… Over time, did the robot become gun hand gest--? You a perpetratin' fraud You told Chris Stokes you could dance, rap and act And got to battle rap and found a way to incorporate it all Aww, you'se a bad man Against Rum Nitty you had the moonwalk They was amazed with that, fam I woulda waited 'til you slid back, dome shot, blaze and blas-- Little Julian coulda made it in Julliar-- *BAOW*, he shoulda saved the last dance The baddest nigga, the 'matic gripper Show you how to really dance You seen what I did with Cor', he a graphic (coreographic) nigga It's a demon I'll visit JC late night like Nicodemus Nigga creepin' up, sideways the gun To the back of ya dome the pistol squeezin' *BAOW*! The shot perfect But how you gon' criticize the form if you didn't see it? I do em all trife Desert Eagle'll send you back to way back when with this chrome pipe If JC see a D (AD), he'll be standin' before Christ I tend to try him Way before you and Chilla, I been the nicest Not to mention I'm bad to the bone like tindinitus You think you on a road to glory Yes you're very talented but I know your story It's just your death disguised as a gift like the Trojan Army What's even more botherin' Is y'all allowed him get away with this shit As if before we wasn't all watchin' him I even had to check your past (pass): hall monitors I'm sick of you frontin' Y'all praise JC, well I'm tryna snatch his ministry from him Brand new 1949 Wesson, it got Benjamin Button With the silver Smith yellin': "The British are coming!" Jersey!