Create lyrics explanation
Select some words and click "Explain" button. Then type your
knowledge, add image or YouTube video till "Good-o-meter" shows
"Cool" or "Awesome!". Publish your explanation with "Explain"
button. Get karma points!
URLtv – Charlie Clips Vs Tay Roc (2014) lyrics
[Round 1: Tay Roc]
For six years, all I've heard is you murdered me
I ain't make a sound
Lux set it up for two minutes but knew you had six minute rounds
That there is true
I ain't here to complain because I missed the shot
Real niggas know when you miss, you spin the block
I kick in your door without a second thought, I'm like, "Who first?"
I will R.I.P. a pussy: that's a new birth
I do work, I will buck your neck, give you two smirks
I ain't see a nigga choke and die like that since Tsu Surf
Lead pop, I doubt that I miss a headshot
Like if O was down with the Mobb, that's a red dot
The MAC will leave a piece of your apple on a desktop
Bird, snake, sleep with the fishes: that's a pet shop
Charlie, the pistol is long, my temper's short enough
My bars cold, hot-headed nigga, but I'm just warmin' up
Ayy, you know how an abandoned house be boarded up?
I pay my shooter a band, then your house be boarded up
You doin' what? I look at DNA like, "Whore, what up?"
He crack a slick, I crack his shit, you help that boy get up
Toy with us, I'll pop up in Harlem, you'll take a nap, G
I'll hit Charlie in his windgate with these MAC's, b
Light bars! I've been waitin' to send your soul to Christ
Charlie gon' see clips singin' like karaoke night
You know I'm nice, say somethin' my bros don't like
My niggas start randomly spittin', but this ain't open mic
That nigga Roc don't care for niggas
Get striked for gettin' bold with the bull, I ain't sparin' niggas
This the Danger Zone, we airin' niggas
I ain't here for a tie, L, just a W — them my Maryland niggas
Peep, I'm the king of my state, and I don't share with niggas
Never been the one to duck, I'm more like a bear to niggas
Step in this ring, I've been darin' niggas
You winnin' this battle?
That's like tryna take Roc's paper with a pair of scissors
Stupid-ass! Think he a rider until he carsick
Cops gon' find the insides of Charlie on his carpet
It'll be grocery bag, that's what this market…
I said, it'll be gross, sure he bagged, that's what this mark get
Fuck you! This rematch unnecessary
Who's the legend? Beatin' me is what made you legendary
Charlie get hit with the first and then the secondary
Then DNA get the business like it's hereditary
Shout-out to the PG's, but I ain't a new guy
For example, you must be high of that snow that you buy
Mister thinkin' he wavy until I have him in a new tie
Hop out that Audi, "Boom!" — then make him woo side
This shit easy, just peep me! Our first battle?
Ike Turner in the back of the limo: I let a bitch beat me
When my pockets low I get greasy
I swear to God I'm whippin' out if anybody on the strip tease me
All bars, I'ma get mine off
Throwin' bullets like Brady, try to pick mine off
You can keep thinkin' this slim guy soft
I leave you in a state of shock when I clap nine and send five north
You know, that interstate 95 north, nigga, this battle simple
Blindside him with a Louisville: that's a shattered temple
When I hit his mouth with a hatchet, it won't be accidental
I said, I'll hit his mouth with a hatchet: I'll axe his dental
I trapped you into a box, nigga, you gone
You don't attempt to murder a killer, fuck is you doin'?
Paramedics'll get you hauled if you don't move on
I'll throw a bullet in ya window and hit your new born
Crack slick like it's somethin' you niggas want
That pump slump him by the 2's, I dump if you niggas front
Niggas talkin' about my battle with Charlie — I'm like, "So what?"
Ever since I took an L I've been fuckin' these niggas up
Light Bars
[Round 1: Charlie Clips]
My grandmoms had the nerve to call my phone
Like, "Baby, word on the streets is you straight hot
But that boy got a vendetta against you
I might gotta put my money on Tay Roc."
I'm like, "Grandma, what the hell?!"
She like, "Oh Lord, the boy cursin' now."
She said, "You got a third this time?"
I'm like, "Yes, grandma, I'm rehearsin' now
What do you want?"
She said, "Nothing, just show Tay Roc you in a different class
And don't play around this time
‘Cause that's how B Magic almost whipped yo' ass."
I said, "B Magic?" — she said, "Mhmm."
I said, "Rounds one and two, I was lookin' flamable
But the third…"
She said, "Exactly, it shouldn't have been debatable
Now when you battle Roc
I want you to throw a left, add a good-ass hook in
Oh, and by the way, I made yams, peach cobbler and some…
Now there's only one way
You could get some of grandma's good-ass cooking."
I said, "How's that?"
She said, "Give Tay Roc that good-ass whoopin'!"
I ran up on Roc like, "What's poppin', pussy? What you barkin' for?"
He ran in his pop's crib, I shot through the apartment door
Big Roc jumped in the way, I let the Larkin roar
He moved, then the bullets tore through little Roc: that's Arkansas
I'm only five bars in and y'all already want me to bring it back
Like what if I'm in Roc's pop's crib with no strap to make it clap
I woulda grabbed Roc face
In front of his familiy, started shavin' that
So R kin saw little Roc get the razor back
Nah, that's not a reach, if I reach that's ‘cause I hate dawg
Decision, should I kick or push him? That's Lupe with a skateboard
Roc, if we fight, good night, I let that 8 roar
You'll die before the hook get delivered: that's Nate Dogg
You call yourself the Rocadile, that's a BS name
I should put this beam in the back of your 3X, bang!
The red light remove your disc: that's a PS game
The chopstick spread your noodle: that's PF Changs
I wanna introduce you to my man .50 cal
But nah, I got another plan
Deuce deuce tucked in the boot, that's my other man
I call 'em Young Buck ‘cause he small, I keep that gun in hand
Let Young Buck perform with the 50: that's Summer Jam
When I heard you joined Dot Mob
I was thinkin' like, "Yo, that's so absurd."
I thought about callin' Mook
Like, "Murda, since when y'all brought in herbs?"
Roc, I could have niggas in Dot Mob jump you
Like if I throw the word
You'll see dot after dot on his face: that's Rosenberg
I'm too raw with all these lines, my nigga
Like if that Kannon fire
Yikes! More dots on his face, oh now he Danny Myers
Let me rebuttal your Proven Ground scheme, Roc
‘Cause trust me, they got a lot of room
When it steams inside the jeans I reach more than Ah Di Boom
I let it Sonic boom, bring it across your wide jaw
We could fight, but your punches too slow, you like Ty Law
You could be 8'9" or 5'4", I shoot, this TEC body ya
You'll lose DNA from every round: that's Prez Mafia
You said you peeled niggas wigs back when your Glock air, scrap?
Nigga, please! Your Young Kannon ain't make a top tier gat
‘Cause you's a Proven mid-tier Ground nigga, Roc
And honestly, that's sad to know
I keep a gun, you don't got your semi? You better tag in SCO
You confused, ‘cause how your name Roc but you be baggin' dro?
Ask Smack, I got an ill will for baggin' snow
So come to my block, Roc
Where we chop rock and move them real crills
Sellin' bags of white, look like I'm movin' bags of Real Deal
I give niggas the real feel
I could let bullets out that MAC spread
Oh, it's ironic... how squeezin' on a long nose
Could help me take out a black head
Say my name in vein, these two arms'll be shootin' up
To hit your back head
That was dope, ‘cause I left Roc with a cracked head
Listen, Roc, this the third mid-tier nigga I gave a shot to, right?
I'm tryin' to give all y'all fame
Proving Ground, I love y'all niggas
Sike! I lied, I think all y'all lame
If y'all wanna jump in this top tier water, cool, I'll bring all y'all pain
Snatch Tay out the whip
And throw Roc out the glass: that's an All Star game
Y'all niggas know my slogan…
Oh, I don't got one, that's right
I'm a hustler, ‘cause I done put this nigga Roc in a bag twice
He nervous, God callin' his name, it's mad bright
Don't be scared, God know your slogan: "That's light!"
[Round 2: Tay Roc]
You started this problem, nigga, don't hide from it
He smoked Roc once, here's where he die from it
Yeah, I took an L, most niggas don't rise from it
Last time I tried, this time I'll be triumphant
You don't know Roc, I don't play games with nobody
I be lookin' like a fool tryin' to tuck a whole shotty
You could end up gettin' knocked out your own body
Get sent to where everything all white, you won't see Yo Gotti
Ayy, I'm no copy, faggot, I am official
I dug your grave deep, your bitch could be in it with you
Once I roll up with a Hershey Kiss and a pistol
Nah, once I roll up on her she kissin' a pistol
That's light, I ain't Surf or Conceited, nigga, it's goin' down
I'ma use more than a subtitle to slow 'em down
What I tote around, I brought clips, extra bullets
I'll have Clips sweatin' bullets, it's plenty of 'em to go around
Hold it down! There's more in store from me
When I say put bitches in bags
They don't get Christian Dior from me
Know that! I come at niggas accordingly
I'll have the docs stitchin' his cap: that's fitted embroidery
Niggas annoyin' me, that's 'til I clutch the pound
Dump a round, I hit 'em, Clips slip on the fuckin' ground
And then I hit 'em until the clips slip on the fuckin' ground
I don't fuck around
I'm tryin' to put Clips in a casket or in an hover round
Fuckin' clown! It's obvious this ain't the same Roc
You body me? If that's what he thinkin', I think not
Fuck around and catch a head shot right on your main block
Tried to tell you lightning don't strike twice in the same spot
Nigga, I don't have the time
Question: What your 5 o'clock shadow gon' look like after 9?
That's how I kill him comin' after mine
Chiropractor: I'm 'bout to put this nigga back in line
The AR got a hell of a bang
Peep how this AR put me ahead of the game
He hear a "CH!", then that AR lie Clips with a shell in his brain
"CH!" AR lie Clips — I was spellin' your name
That's light, tell the pigs for somethin' I ain't never did
He shot me in the head, I survived, so I can't let him live
Besides a turtle, you ain't never seen a shell this big
I'm tryin' to leave his wife with a story to tell his kids
Tell this kid I shoulda killed him a while ago
So what, I'm skinny? You better dip from this Calico
Skinny dip, Calicoe… I be wildin', bro
On this stage you could get schooled or let your talent show
If I catch a bus out to Harlem, ready for action, look
Soon as I hop off, that's Peter Pan, you gettin' capped and hooked
I'm face to face with my killer, why you actin' shook?
I swear to God this can'll bus, tell this rapper book
Nigga, this my second, you won't get this round, Clips
I him him with a drum, leave bullets all around Clips
Naw, since this nigga Clips round, I brought a round clip
Fuck a Clips round, I'll shoot whoever around Clips
Remember you told me you be blackin' it out?
‘Cause you from 8th and Lennox where they be clappin' it out
Wel, I'ma show you what a savage about
Your grandmother called me
Like, "Kill Charlie, so he don't bring his ass back in my house!"
Picture me losin', see how good that's lookin'?
For your grandmother you'll do time in that hood as bookin'
Well, I will hock spit in her good-ass cookin'
Knock her dentures down her throat, once she choke "hhaaa"
Sound like she gettin' that good-ass whoopin'
[Round 2: Charlie Clips]
I killed you in 2008, Worldstar showed the death in 2009
Your mother had to wear an all black dress just to watch the battle
The whole state of Maryland was losin' they mind
Nigga, you even thought Lux set you up — "Ahh, Beloved…"
You was lookin' like the new dude next in line
And if you felt like a Harlem nigga set you up
Then why would you join a group with Mook, Rex and Shine?
See, it's my fault, Roc
‘Cause honestly I don't even think you know what's goin' on
You probably thinkin' we battlin' in Tobacco Lounge, right?
But you really in ICU holdin' on
Oh, y'all look a bit confused
Well, let me take it a bit further, like this lame said
What I did to you was an attempt murder
But that attempt murder left you brain dead
Right now this ain't a rematch, you not really battlin' Clips
It's 2008 and you in the hospital, the URL don't even exist
The nigga Beasley ain't never helped you in your life
There's a tube inside you helpin' you piss
The nigga Smack got a dark Caesar and his beard little as shit
Hold on y'all, ‘cause the story gets deeper
See your daughter by your bedside, she tryin' to play with you
"Mommy, he not movin' again."
She jump in the bed, decide to lay with you
You escaped death before
But this time I'ma make sure death stay with you
Next round is where I pull your plug, but for now I'ma pray for you
Dear Heavenly Father, I wanna thank you
For lettin' me become a monster
But honestly I need another hobby
‘Cause the skills you blessed me with is too deadly
Lord, for example I'm 'bout to catch another body
But see, this time it's out of self defense
Oh, you see they book him to try to and kill me
Why am I prayin' to you and he ain't dead?
That's ‘cause the next round he will be
So can you please forgive me for my sins now?
‘Cause what I'm doin' to him and his career is not fair
They say Heaven got a ghetto
Well, if y'all got a URL, can you please make him top tier?
And if you happen to wake him up out that coma
Can you please bless him with some substance?
Don't only let him rhyme about big-ass gats
Please give him swag
Take off these Jamaican clothes and no more big-ass hats
And please tell him stop wearin' green
Before he get cut, lookin' like somebody grass
And if you let him be Dot Mobb
Bless him with the strength, Lord, to grab nobody's ass
I'm beggin' you, Lord, now can the congregation say "Damn"?
And if y'all ready for Roc to die, let me get an "Amen"
Roc, I mighta just won this round with no bars
That's the actual truth
Word to my Detroit niggas I got bars, here's the actual proof
I got two snubs inside my waist, I'll let 'em clap at your roof
Mind you I said "noses," right?
So the witness thought he got shot by X-Factor and Mook
This is bars of the century mixed with flow of the year
Oh, let me guess, you got two pistols from Indiana
And you roll with a pair
You keep two 4's like Paul George and you'll go on a tear
You lance Stevenson: get to the heat and just blow in the air
I'm not feelin' that, I'm so motherfuckin' mean with it
Let me bring that picture thing back
And do a whole nother scheme with it
See, you remind me of the Pacers, got so much potential
But I got too much heat to let you win this rematch
Bitches say you like Hibbert on the block, that mean your D wack
He'll be on his back like George, I let that heat clap
It'll spin this Pacer backwards
Get him shot again, now that's a recap
That was amazin', because "Pacer" backwards is "recap"
I'm in my zone, nigga
You got gold teeth? Good, my bitch Nina, she a gold digger
Tell my shooter, "Rasheed Wallace"
That mean the bullet from this Piston will make the hole, nigga
Then I tell 'em "Ginobli"
That mean the long nose make the hole bigger
See, the problem with you is you don't have performance
Yeah, you only got just bars
You're not gon' beat me with that, Roc
You know why? I'm just hard
And honestly, your swag is kind of off
Yeah, I don't mean to hurry you
And I'm glad you wore flowers on your shirt
‘Cause you knew I would bury you
[Round 3: Tay Roc]
Tell this fat guy, he can't keep up with me at that size
If he's movin' large coke, I drive through, this big MAC fries
We call MAC's "whoppers," you eat a bullet the snack size
Hit a nigga's apple, turn over: that's a bad pie
Bad guy, fat nigga, you should get this scheme
You donut built and soft as the jelly in between
I put a hole in him, have him lookin' like a Krispy Kreme
When that tre comin' out the box it ain't a kid's cuisine
Fat nigga, I should spit in your face
You don't even drink alcohol unless it has a licorice taste
Here's where I put this nigga in shape
Closed mouths don't get fed
Open yours, it's gettin' fixed with a plate
Fat nigga, you should forfeit all of that pork shit
You pay for pussy, it ain't free to lay for this corn chip
Your bitch be on some whore shit
She love smokin' chocolates, I gave her a graham
She let me crack her and some more shit
I'm on shit, that St. Louis nigga kinda hurt him
He had a hard time with Magic: Donald Sterling
I'm tryna murk him, if this ho tell
He'll sleep in a casket that says "Do not disturb him"
I'm a different kinda person, nigga, Tay trippin'
Nigga tried me before and he caught Tay slippin'
Well, if I get to bangin' on top of this car like Blake Griffin
Malaysian Airlines: you gonna be plain missin'
Never been a follower, ‘cause I lead the way
FYI, we don't fuck with the DEA
I'll put a bullet in Clips, the same bullet'll go through DNA
I hit both of them bitches at the same time: I'm Stevie J
Nigga, bring your back up with you
I don't care if it's your grandma ma
I should kill whoever shack up with you
This MAC buck hit you, it seem like a Mack truck hit you
Docs gon' do the autopsy and find the gat stuck in you
These hands are similar: that's Siamese
The right hook will leave your chin slanted: that's Chinese
My man brought me two new Glocks
I'm like, "Where you find these?"
Verizon Fios bullets, travel at high speeds
Light bars! I'll leave you with a smoked wig
Hit him with a Marlboro: nigga, that's a old SIG
Peep, all I gotta do is find out where this ho live
Fuck which room he in, my niggas shootin' up his whole crib
Wait… I heard Hitman sayin' names, why he holla mine?
Tell him get off my dick, his whole style is mine
Enjoy your college time, nigga, I will ruin your career
Leg shot in the low shin from the cal of mine
But anyway, robbin' your connect, that's what I'm in it for
I will get your plug stretched out: that's an extension cord
Niggas don't live long here… that's what extensions for
Watch your mouth 'fore DNA askin' you
"What's your dentures for?"
Give him more? Nigga, I will disrespect your world
Catch you slippin' on a dinner date and chin-check your girl
Real shit, I will have you eyein' down a double barrel
Try to run, get a back shot: that's an epidural
Y'all gon' see clips get banged
Then y'all gon' see Clips get banged
Whatever remain in the clip goin' in Clips' remains
Some of the clips you can't see, some of the clips'll hang
Worldstar/Vine compilation: none of my clips the same
You gon' beat me? Nah, still niggas lyin'
Tell you like I told the others, I don't feel niggas rhymes
Who he foolin' with them steel grippin' lines?
Tell him, fuckin' with me, he'll get smacked: we on real nigga time
[Round 3: Charlie Clips]
My name Charlie Clips, every bar is piff
That mean it's very potent
So don't bite my lines or recite my rhymes
‘Cause it look like you don't do no heavy smokin'
I spits that good shit that get in your lungs
Have you doin' heavy chokin'
Bag your baby moms, do some heavy strokin'
Condom pop, skeet on her buns, then rub it in like Keri lotion
Now, for those who never heard me rap before
You probably thinkin', "Damn, he's wack!"
But those lines destroyed his life back in '08
And they the reason for this rematch
No other league wanna book him
It's ironic how Roc always need Smack
They put me in rehab for cuttin' up Roc, well, this the relapse
What's poppin', Tay?
Word around town is you joined Dot Mobb
A rap group that gotta ask Mook for permission
Them niggas not hard
20 percent ass grab, 30 percent left, went and got jobs
And the last 50 percent we look at Rex and think they got robbed
And that's who you wanna be the leader of?
Dot Mobb? Knowin' you not Mook, stop reachin', Roc
Before I give your hand some, that shit is not cute
With this beam I dot mobs, that K shine, I let it rock groups
You'll see a long can in this ho nigga mouth, but it ain't thot juice
Ayy, Beasley, this y'all favorite?
Well, you gon' make me Smack you, Beas'
If you tip Roc, I'm on a way to kill him, I'ma clap you, Beas'
Tip, waiter, guess which restaurant I'm in?
I let the ratchet squeeze
I'ma serve Roc with the tre, then hit your apple, Beas'
So stop promotin' Tay Tay like this nigga what the game missin'
He have a little battle, you give him $2,000
Okay, his change flippin'
He have a big battle, you give him $2,000
That's the same difference
You might as well work for Halal
You keep givin' niggas the same chicken
But me? I got my 8K and my AK
I'm in your bitch crib with my nigga Ray Ray
Both got guns at her head, but I hit it first, I guess I'm Ray J
She tried to block the shot, it left her pinkie: that's Day Day
Silencer on, kids never heard the pop: that's Bébé
I don't deal with opinions, nigga
Before Mickey I was speakin' facts
Like if your bitch wanna get saved by the bell
I advise you to stop speakin' back
Or we ring her bell, then she open, we start squeezin' MAC's
Bullets'll be in your bae side more than Screech and Zack
Remember when he told K Shine how he over win?
And how if his girl see the battle
He gon' be livin' single like Overton?
You ever went to sleep as a kid, got pussy
Your moms call you and fuck the dream up?
Well, that's how it feel when a nigga like this fuck a scheme up
I don't give a fuck if you livin' single or not
Or if your wife or your kids there
Khadija life, promote a magazine
My best friend is a MAC's, I bring my friend there
Move the kids, kill every nigga that's over 10 when the clip flare
Clear the scene, hit church, pray, then get that sin clear
Here's a few reason why a nigga like Tay Tay won't ever get Clips
For one, I cover the scene: that make me Slick Rick
You better jet or be face to face with a Smith on some Vick shit
You pull your gun out, we laugh at your arsenal: that's Trick Trick
Oh, let me guess, you gon' put my bitch in the truck
Make sure my miss fit
I'd rather put this MAC in your bitch mouth, make sure her lip stick
So the bullet could tour through her body, that's a quick trip
The cal on me, and my .40 official without the big tits
Now, that's how you scheme, lil nigga
Next time, you learn how to do it proper
Roc, we could box, but good Lord, you could use a doctor
You open hand smack me? Shit, I will use the chopper
You'll get shots all night for that smack: that's Exclusiv Vodka
Y'all niggas know my slogan…
Oh, I forgot, I don't got one, that's right
I'm a hustler, I done put Tay Roc in a bag twice
God call him, he nervous, lookin' up, it's mad bright
Don't be scared, God know your slogan: "That's light!"
For six years, all I've heard is you murdered me
I ain't make a sound
Lux set it up for two minutes but knew you had six minute rounds
That there is true
I ain't here to complain because I missed the shot
Real niggas know when you miss, you spin the block
I kick in your door without a second thought, I'm like, "Who first?"
I will R.I.P. a pussy: that's a new birth
I do work, I will buck your neck, give you two smirks
I ain't see a nigga choke and die like that since Tsu Surf
Lead pop, I doubt that I miss a headshot
Like if O was down with the Mobb, that's a red dot
The MAC will leave a piece of your apple on a desktop
Bird, snake, sleep with the fishes: that's a pet shop
Charlie, the pistol is long, my temper's short enough
My bars cold, hot-headed nigga, but I'm just warmin' up
Ayy, you know how an abandoned house be boarded up?
I pay my shooter a band, then your house be boarded up
You doin' what? I look at DNA like, "Whore, what up?"
He crack a slick, I crack his shit, you help that boy get up
Toy with us, I'll pop up in Harlem, you'll take a nap, G
I'll hit Charlie in his windgate with these MAC's, b
Light bars! I've been waitin' to send your soul to Christ
Charlie gon' see clips singin' like karaoke night
You know I'm nice, say somethin' my bros don't like
My niggas start randomly spittin', but this ain't open mic
That nigga Roc don't care for niggas
Get striked for gettin' bold with the bull, I ain't sparin' niggas
This the Danger Zone, we airin' niggas
I ain't here for a tie, L, just a W — them my Maryland niggas
Peep, I'm the king of my state, and I don't share with niggas
Never been the one to duck, I'm more like a bear to niggas
Step in this ring, I've been darin' niggas
You winnin' this battle?
That's like tryna take Roc's paper with a pair of scissors
Stupid-ass! Think he a rider until he carsick
Cops gon' find the insides of Charlie on his carpet
It'll be grocery bag, that's what this market…
I said, it'll be gross, sure he bagged, that's what this mark get
Fuck you! This rematch unnecessary
Who's the legend? Beatin' me is what made you legendary
Charlie get hit with the first and then the secondary
Then DNA get the business like it's hereditary
Shout-out to the PG's, but I ain't a new guy
For example, you must be high of that snow that you buy
Mister thinkin' he wavy until I have him in a new tie
Hop out that Audi, "Boom!" — then make him woo side
This shit easy, just peep me! Our first battle?
Ike Turner in the back of the limo: I let a bitch beat me
When my pockets low I get greasy
I swear to God I'm whippin' out if anybody on the strip tease me
All bars, I'ma get mine off
Throwin' bullets like Brady, try to pick mine off
You can keep thinkin' this slim guy soft
I leave you in a state of shock when I clap nine and send five north
You know, that interstate 95 north, nigga, this battle simple
Blindside him with a Louisville: that's a shattered temple
When I hit his mouth with a hatchet, it won't be accidental
I said, I'll hit his mouth with a hatchet: I'll axe his dental
I trapped you into a box, nigga, you gone
You don't attempt to murder a killer, fuck is you doin'?
Paramedics'll get you hauled if you don't move on
I'll throw a bullet in ya window and hit your new born
Crack slick like it's somethin' you niggas want
That pump slump him by the 2's, I dump if you niggas front
Niggas talkin' about my battle with Charlie — I'm like, "So what?"
Ever since I took an L I've been fuckin' these niggas up
Light Bars
[Round 1: Charlie Clips]
My grandmoms had the nerve to call my phone
Like, "Baby, word on the streets is you straight hot
But that boy got a vendetta against you
I might gotta put my money on Tay Roc."
I'm like, "Grandma, what the hell?!"
She like, "Oh Lord, the boy cursin' now."
She said, "You got a third this time?"
I'm like, "Yes, grandma, I'm rehearsin' now
What do you want?"
She said, "Nothing, just show Tay Roc you in a different class
And don't play around this time
‘Cause that's how B Magic almost whipped yo' ass."
I said, "B Magic?" — she said, "Mhmm."
I said, "Rounds one and two, I was lookin' flamable
But the third…"
She said, "Exactly, it shouldn't have been debatable
Now when you battle Roc
I want you to throw a left, add a good-ass hook in
Oh, and by the way, I made yams, peach cobbler and some…
Now there's only one way
You could get some of grandma's good-ass cooking."
I said, "How's that?"
She said, "Give Tay Roc that good-ass whoopin'!"
I ran up on Roc like, "What's poppin', pussy? What you barkin' for?"
He ran in his pop's crib, I shot through the apartment door
Big Roc jumped in the way, I let the Larkin roar
He moved, then the bullets tore through little Roc: that's Arkansas
I'm only five bars in and y'all already want me to bring it back
Like what if I'm in Roc's pop's crib with no strap to make it clap
I woulda grabbed Roc face
In front of his familiy, started shavin' that
So R kin saw little Roc get the razor back
Nah, that's not a reach, if I reach that's ‘cause I hate dawg
Decision, should I kick or push him? That's Lupe with a skateboard
Roc, if we fight, good night, I let that 8 roar
You'll die before the hook get delivered: that's Nate Dogg
You call yourself the Rocadile, that's a BS name
I should put this beam in the back of your 3X, bang!
The red light remove your disc: that's a PS game
The chopstick spread your noodle: that's PF Changs
I wanna introduce you to my man .50 cal
But nah, I got another plan
Deuce deuce tucked in the boot, that's my other man
I call 'em Young Buck ‘cause he small, I keep that gun in hand
Let Young Buck perform with the 50: that's Summer Jam
When I heard you joined Dot Mob
I was thinkin' like, "Yo, that's so absurd."
I thought about callin' Mook
Like, "Murda, since when y'all brought in herbs?"
Roc, I could have niggas in Dot Mob jump you
Like if I throw the word
You'll see dot after dot on his face: that's Rosenberg
I'm too raw with all these lines, my nigga
Like if that Kannon fire
Yikes! More dots on his face, oh now he Danny Myers
Let me rebuttal your Proven Ground scheme, Roc
‘Cause trust me, they got a lot of room
When it steams inside the jeans I reach more than Ah Di Boom
I let it Sonic boom, bring it across your wide jaw
We could fight, but your punches too slow, you like Ty Law
You could be 8'9" or 5'4", I shoot, this TEC body ya
You'll lose DNA from every round: that's Prez Mafia
You said you peeled niggas wigs back when your Glock air, scrap?
Nigga, please! Your Young Kannon ain't make a top tier gat
‘Cause you's a Proven mid-tier Ground nigga, Roc
And honestly, that's sad to know
I keep a gun, you don't got your semi? You better tag in SCO
You confused, ‘cause how your name Roc but you be baggin' dro?
Ask Smack, I got an ill will for baggin' snow
So come to my block, Roc
Where we chop rock and move them real crills
Sellin' bags of white, look like I'm movin' bags of Real Deal
I give niggas the real feel
I could let bullets out that MAC spread
Oh, it's ironic... how squeezin' on a long nose
Could help me take out a black head
Say my name in vein, these two arms'll be shootin' up
To hit your back head
That was dope, ‘cause I left Roc with a cracked head
Listen, Roc, this the third mid-tier nigga I gave a shot to, right?
I'm tryin' to give all y'all fame
Proving Ground, I love y'all niggas
Sike! I lied, I think all y'all lame
If y'all wanna jump in this top tier water, cool, I'll bring all y'all pain
Snatch Tay out the whip
And throw Roc out the glass: that's an All Star game
Y'all niggas know my slogan…
Oh, I don't got one, that's right
I'm a hustler, ‘cause I done put this nigga Roc in a bag twice
He nervous, God callin' his name, it's mad bright
Don't be scared, God know your slogan: "That's light!"
[Round 2: Tay Roc]
You started this problem, nigga, don't hide from it
He smoked Roc once, here's where he die from it
Yeah, I took an L, most niggas don't rise from it
Last time I tried, this time I'll be triumphant
You don't know Roc, I don't play games with nobody
I be lookin' like a fool tryin' to tuck a whole shotty
You could end up gettin' knocked out your own body
Get sent to where everything all white, you won't see Yo Gotti
Ayy, I'm no copy, faggot, I am official
I dug your grave deep, your bitch could be in it with you
Once I roll up with a Hershey Kiss and a pistol
Nah, once I roll up on her she kissin' a pistol
That's light, I ain't Surf or Conceited, nigga, it's goin' down
I'ma use more than a subtitle to slow 'em down
What I tote around, I brought clips, extra bullets
I'll have Clips sweatin' bullets, it's plenty of 'em to go around
Hold it down! There's more in store from me
When I say put bitches in bags
They don't get Christian Dior from me
Know that! I come at niggas accordingly
I'll have the docs stitchin' his cap: that's fitted embroidery
Niggas annoyin' me, that's 'til I clutch the pound
Dump a round, I hit 'em, Clips slip on the fuckin' ground
And then I hit 'em until the clips slip on the fuckin' ground
I don't fuck around
I'm tryin' to put Clips in a casket or in an hover round
Fuckin' clown! It's obvious this ain't the same Roc
You body me? If that's what he thinkin', I think not
Fuck around and catch a head shot right on your main block
Tried to tell you lightning don't strike twice in the same spot
Nigga, I don't have the time
Question: What your 5 o'clock shadow gon' look like after 9?
That's how I kill him comin' after mine
Chiropractor: I'm 'bout to put this nigga back in line
The AR got a hell of a bang
Peep how this AR put me ahead of the game
He hear a "CH!", then that AR lie Clips with a shell in his brain
"CH!" AR lie Clips — I was spellin' your name
That's light, tell the pigs for somethin' I ain't never did
He shot me in the head, I survived, so I can't let him live
Besides a turtle, you ain't never seen a shell this big
I'm tryin' to leave his wife with a story to tell his kids
Tell this kid I shoulda killed him a while ago
So what, I'm skinny? You better dip from this Calico
Skinny dip, Calicoe… I be wildin', bro
On this stage you could get schooled or let your talent show
If I catch a bus out to Harlem, ready for action, look
Soon as I hop off, that's Peter Pan, you gettin' capped and hooked
I'm face to face with my killer, why you actin' shook?
I swear to God this can'll bus, tell this rapper book
Nigga, this my second, you won't get this round, Clips
I him him with a drum, leave bullets all around Clips
Naw, since this nigga Clips round, I brought a round clip
Fuck a Clips round, I'll shoot whoever around Clips
Remember you told me you be blackin' it out?
‘Cause you from 8th and Lennox where they be clappin' it out
Wel, I'ma show you what a savage about
Your grandmother called me
Like, "Kill Charlie, so he don't bring his ass back in my house!"
Picture me losin', see how good that's lookin'?
For your grandmother you'll do time in that hood as bookin'
Well, I will hock spit in her good-ass cookin'
Knock her dentures down her throat, once she choke "hhaaa"
Sound like she gettin' that good-ass whoopin'
[Round 2: Charlie Clips]
I killed you in 2008, Worldstar showed the death in 2009
Your mother had to wear an all black dress just to watch the battle
The whole state of Maryland was losin' they mind
Nigga, you even thought Lux set you up — "Ahh, Beloved…"
You was lookin' like the new dude next in line
And if you felt like a Harlem nigga set you up
Then why would you join a group with Mook, Rex and Shine?
See, it's my fault, Roc
‘Cause honestly I don't even think you know what's goin' on
You probably thinkin' we battlin' in Tobacco Lounge, right?
But you really in ICU holdin' on
Oh, y'all look a bit confused
Well, let me take it a bit further, like this lame said
What I did to you was an attempt murder
But that attempt murder left you brain dead
Right now this ain't a rematch, you not really battlin' Clips
It's 2008 and you in the hospital, the URL don't even exist
The nigga Beasley ain't never helped you in your life
There's a tube inside you helpin' you piss
The nigga Smack got a dark Caesar and his beard little as shit
Hold on y'all, ‘cause the story gets deeper
See your daughter by your bedside, she tryin' to play with you
"Mommy, he not movin' again."
She jump in the bed, decide to lay with you
You escaped death before
But this time I'ma make sure death stay with you
Next round is where I pull your plug, but for now I'ma pray for you
Dear Heavenly Father, I wanna thank you
For lettin' me become a monster
But honestly I need another hobby
‘Cause the skills you blessed me with is too deadly
Lord, for example I'm 'bout to catch another body
But see, this time it's out of self defense
Oh, you see they book him to try to and kill me
Why am I prayin' to you and he ain't dead?
That's ‘cause the next round he will be
So can you please forgive me for my sins now?
‘Cause what I'm doin' to him and his career is not fair
They say Heaven got a ghetto
Well, if y'all got a URL, can you please make him top tier?
And if you happen to wake him up out that coma
Can you please bless him with some substance?
Don't only let him rhyme about big-ass gats
Please give him swag
Take off these Jamaican clothes and no more big-ass hats
And please tell him stop wearin' green
Before he get cut, lookin' like somebody grass
And if you let him be Dot Mobb
Bless him with the strength, Lord, to grab nobody's ass
I'm beggin' you, Lord, now can the congregation say "Damn"?
And if y'all ready for Roc to die, let me get an "Amen"
Roc, I mighta just won this round with no bars
That's the actual truth
Word to my Detroit niggas I got bars, here's the actual proof
I got two snubs inside my waist, I'll let 'em clap at your roof
Mind you I said "noses," right?
So the witness thought he got shot by X-Factor and Mook
This is bars of the century mixed with flow of the year
Oh, let me guess, you got two pistols from Indiana
And you roll with a pair
You keep two 4's like Paul George and you'll go on a tear
You lance Stevenson: get to the heat and just blow in the air
I'm not feelin' that, I'm so motherfuckin' mean with it
Let me bring that picture thing back
And do a whole nother scheme with it
See, you remind me of the Pacers, got so much potential
But I got too much heat to let you win this rematch
Bitches say you like Hibbert on the block, that mean your D wack
He'll be on his back like George, I let that heat clap
It'll spin this Pacer backwards
Get him shot again, now that's a recap
That was amazin', because "Pacer" backwards is "recap"
I'm in my zone, nigga
You got gold teeth? Good, my bitch Nina, she a gold digger
Tell my shooter, "Rasheed Wallace"
That mean the bullet from this Piston will make the hole, nigga
Then I tell 'em "Ginobli"
That mean the long nose make the hole bigger
See, the problem with you is you don't have performance
Yeah, you only got just bars
You're not gon' beat me with that, Roc
You know why? I'm just hard
And honestly, your swag is kind of off
Yeah, I don't mean to hurry you
And I'm glad you wore flowers on your shirt
‘Cause you knew I would bury you
[Round 3: Tay Roc]
Tell this fat guy, he can't keep up with me at that size
If he's movin' large coke, I drive through, this big MAC fries
We call MAC's "whoppers," you eat a bullet the snack size
Hit a nigga's apple, turn over: that's a bad pie
Bad guy, fat nigga, you should get this scheme
You donut built and soft as the jelly in between
I put a hole in him, have him lookin' like a Krispy Kreme
When that tre comin' out the box it ain't a kid's cuisine
Fat nigga, I should spit in your face
You don't even drink alcohol unless it has a licorice taste
Here's where I put this nigga in shape
Closed mouths don't get fed
Open yours, it's gettin' fixed with a plate
Fat nigga, you should forfeit all of that pork shit
You pay for pussy, it ain't free to lay for this corn chip
Your bitch be on some whore shit
She love smokin' chocolates, I gave her a graham
She let me crack her and some more shit
I'm on shit, that St. Louis nigga kinda hurt him
He had a hard time with Magic: Donald Sterling
I'm tryna murk him, if this ho tell
He'll sleep in a casket that says "Do not disturb him"
I'm a different kinda person, nigga, Tay trippin'
Nigga tried me before and he caught Tay slippin'
Well, if I get to bangin' on top of this car like Blake Griffin
Malaysian Airlines: you gonna be plain missin'
Never been a follower, ‘cause I lead the way
FYI, we don't fuck with the DEA
I'll put a bullet in Clips, the same bullet'll go through DNA
I hit both of them bitches at the same time: I'm Stevie J
Nigga, bring your back up with you
I don't care if it's your grandma ma
I should kill whoever shack up with you
This MAC buck hit you, it seem like a Mack truck hit you
Docs gon' do the autopsy and find the gat stuck in you
These hands are similar: that's Siamese
The right hook will leave your chin slanted: that's Chinese
My man brought me two new Glocks
I'm like, "Where you find these?"
Verizon Fios bullets, travel at high speeds
Light bars! I'll leave you with a smoked wig
Hit him with a Marlboro: nigga, that's a old SIG
Peep, all I gotta do is find out where this ho live
Fuck which room he in, my niggas shootin' up his whole crib
Wait… I heard Hitman sayin' names, why he holla mine?
Tell him get off my dick, his whole style is mine
Enjoy your college time, nigga, I will ruin your career
Leg shot in the low shin from the cal of mine
But anyway, robbin' your connect, that's what I'm in it for
I will get your plug stretched out: that's an extension cord
Niggas don't live long here… that's what extensions for
Watch your mouth 'fore DNA askin' you
"What's your dentures for?"
Give him more? Nigga, I will disrespect your world
Catch you slippin' on a dinner date and chin-check your girl
Real shit, I will have you eyein' down a double barrel
Try to run, get a back shot: that's an epidural
Y'all gon' see clips get banged
Then y'all gon' see Clips get banged
Whatever remain in the clip goin' in Clips' remains
Some of the clips you can't see, some of the clips'll hang
Worldstar/Vine compilation: none of my clips the same
You gon' beat me? Nah, still niggas lyin'
Tell you like I told the others, I don't feel niggas rhymes
Who he foolin' with them steel grippin' lines?
Tell him, fuckin' with me, he'll get smacked: we on real nigga time
[Round 3: Charlie Clips]
My name Charlie Clips, every bar is piff
That mean it's very potent
So don't bite my lines or recite my rhymes
‘Cause it look like you don't do no heavy smokin'
I spits that good shit that get in your lungs
Have you doin' heavy chokin'
Bag your baby moms, do some heavy strokin'
Condom pop, skeet on her buns, then rub it in like Keri lotion
Now, for those who never heard me rap before
You probably thinkin', "Damn, he's wack!"
But those lines destroyed his life back in '08
And they the reason for this rematch
No other league wanna book him
It's ironic how Roc always need Smack
They put me in rehab for cuttin' up Roc, well, this the relapse
What's poppin', Tay?
Word around town is you joined Dot Mobb
A rap group that gotta ask Mook for permission
Them niggas not hard
20 percent ass grab, 30 percent left, went and got jobs
And the last 50 percent we look at Rex and think they got robbed
And that's who you wanna be the leader of?
Dot Mobb? Knowin' you not Mook, stop reachin', Roc
Before I give your hand some, that shit is not cute
With this beam I dot mobs, that K shine, I let it rock groups
You'll see a long can in this ho nigga mouth, but it ain't thot juice
Ayy, Beasley, this y'all favorite?
Well, you gon' make me Smack you, Beas'
If you tip Roc, I'm on a way to kill him, I'ma clap you, Beas'
Tip, waiter, guess which restaurant I'm in?
I let the ratchet squeeze
I'ma serve Roc with the tre, then hit your apple, Beas'
So stop promotin' Tay Tay like this nigga what the game missin'
He have a little battle, you give him $2,000
Okay, his change flippin'
He have a big battle, you give him $2,000
That's the same difference
You might as well work for Halal
You keep givin' niggas the same chicken
But me? I got my 8K and my AK
I'm in your bitch crib with my nigga Ray Ray
Both got guns at her head, but I hit it first, I guess I'm Ray J
She tried to block the shot, it left her pinkie: that's Day Day
Silencer on, kids never heard the pop: that's Bébé
I don't deal with opinions, nigga
Before Mickey I was speakin' facts
Like if your bitch wanna get saved by the bell
I advise you to stop speakin' back
Or we ring her bell, then she open, we start squeezin' MAC's
Bullets'll be in your bae side more than Screech and Zack
Remember when he told K Shine how he over win?
And how if his girl see the battle
He gon' be livin' single like Overton?
You ever went to sleep as a kid, got pussy
Your moms call you and fuck the dream up?
Well, that's how it feel when a nigga like this fuck a scheme up
I don't give a fuck if you livin' single or not
Or if your wife or your kids there
Khadija life, promote a magazine
My best friend is a MAC's, I bring my friend there
Move the kids, kill every nigga that's over 10 when the clip flare
Clear the scene, hit church, pray, then get that sin clear
Here's a few reason why a nigga like Tay Tay won't ever get Clips
For one, I cover the scene: that make me Slick Rick
You better jet or be face to face with a Smith on some Vick shit
You pull your gun out, we laugh at your arsenal: that's Trick Trick
Oh, let me guess, you gon' put my bitch in the truck
Make sure my miss fit
I'd rather put this MAC in your bitch mouth, make sure her lip stick
So the bullet could tour through her body, that's a quick trip
The cal on me, and my .40 official without the big tits
Now, that's how you scheme, lil nigga
Next time, you learn how to do it proper
Roc, we could box, but good Lord, you could use a doctor
You open hand smack me? Shit, I will use the chopper
You'll get shots all night for that smack: that's Exclusiv Vodka
Y'all niggas know my slogan…
Oh, I forgot, I don't got one, that's right
I'm a hustler, I done put Tay Roc in a bag twice
God call him, he nervous, lookin' up, it's mad bright
Don't be scared, God know your slogan: "That's light!"
Lyrics taken from
/urltv-charlie_clips_vs_tay_roc_2014-1618853.html