URLtv – Conceited Vs B Magic lyrics

[Round 1: B Magic]
You finally stopped duckin', well let's get straight to work
I grab the tools, 'bout to act a fool like it's April 1st
Fifth'll blow, lift your soul, this is no day in church
Sex on the beach: this bitch gon' get laid in dirt
Listen up, Reggie, I hop up out the Cavalier, them shots flame
Bandana on me with the 30-30: I'm John Wayne
Conceited gon' catch every shell it contain
Then I'm runnin' back to the Cavalier: LeBron James
He thinkin' he sick, now that's a hypochondriac
Thinkin' he sick? Don't give a fuck how hyper Con react
I say I buck the machine, I bet he changed: that's a laundromat
Steel peel, somethin' ill will hit his Pontiac
Am I the meanest? Sho nough, well let's convers
I heard a Rone dissin' Con verse, he kiss a Converse
He'll be puffy tryna dance with me: Fonzworth
9 burst, P.O. nigga: I'm makin' Con work
I'm never scared, it's B Magic with this bone crusher
Fuck the ambulance, you might as well call a ghostbuster
When this 4 touch ya; I'm tellin' you good
You'll see a crazy K if you don't get your tail from the hood
It's B Magic, the 4 holder, I'm more doper
Don't make me call up the war soldiers, the war's over
Ain't nothin' good about me reachin' in that Toyota
See, Con dough will get tooken: that's a foreclosure
Your whole name say I wanna be defeated
What kind of straight nigga say, "I wanna be Conceited"?
I'm heated and strapped, slid in with the crew
I done broke more niggas down than Hidden Colors 2
How you want it? Say it and I'll kill that nigga
I'll slap the shit out of this Kevin Hart built-ass nigga
See, I don't feel that nigga, this K shine, you can zip him up
Don't smoke Reggie, but somethin' blunt will spill his guts
Turn up, from where they movin', lootin' and shootin' that boy
St. Louis truest, you seen the news and we shootin' them toys
Give me room and I'm movin' on you and your unit of yours
To keep the beef fresh I brought somethin' aluminum for you
My flow's sicker, you talkin' like you dumpin', shoot some
Walberg and Denzel, nigga: I brought two guns
So do somethin', don't say I ain't tell him
I'll stick him up with the Dillinger like Baby Face Nelson
I am here, B Magic versus Tevin Campbell—can we talk?
Catch bullets, that's what the 80 for: Randy Moss
Back in my arms again, I am the boss
I will survive 'til we meet again like Diana Ross
Google that, your snitch ass, that shit made up
Kevin Gates: your bitch ass'll get ate up
For nonbelievers who thinkin' I won't get you killed
Just take it from me, you'll get the steel
I walk up on him like, make the right move
Thirty thou in thirty minutes or I'ma take your life, fool
He said, "Haaah?", I buck the 40 on him, he like alright, cool
Now that's progressive after I pull the Name Your Price tool


[Round 1: Conceited]
Yo, it's what y'all been waitin' for
Conceited vers' B Magic, this is a homi'
I'm the one that taught this kid how to drop his shit
Made him get on the potty
Y'all done finally put the Karate Kid against Mr. Miyagi
But since y'all think Magic's worth it
I'ma be a plastic surgeon, ‘cause I'm fixin' a body
Nigga, you only rep the blue
'Til the death of you when it's beneficial
This nigga want to be very Crip 'til I leave him very crippled
Them real locs run up on him
You see a flag get dropped without a ref and whistle
So don't say that color's in your veins
And your Crippin' is dead official
‘Cause we all say you like Beyoncé
We don't believe that blue was ever in you
Nigga, you don't get the pistol or be dumpin' out the strap
You just runnin' out your trap
How is your name Magic
And you still ain't pullin' nothin' out the cap?
Nigga, I'm comin' with the gat
At the spur of the moment, that nose is longer
I'll put that Ginobili on ya
I took the heat out like Tony Parker
And a hollow killed yo' ass like Total Slaughter
It ain't no secret, faggot, you know I'm harder
My style's way better
Your style's too plain in the building like the Trade Center
Everybody can get these TEC's: it's like a chain letter
You gon' see one arm pop: Swave Sevah
For the smallest problems, let hollows from the K stretch ya
You can get hit by a tip over somethin' tiny like Mayweather
Y'all know this nigga's B Magic, Black Magic, June, that's real rap
But this nigga's real name is Jerry Douglas
That's not a punchline, that's real facts
Oh what, you thought that I didn't know?
Infrareds on top of hammers, beams with the scope
You gonna see a bunch of ratchets
And rednecks on Jerry like The Springer Show
Twin guns, I fill drums and you lift them both
I'm the type to raise up 2 black 4's to niggas like Different Strokes
Nigga, I will hit your folks when I'm sprayin'
Your whole family gettin' the clip like the Wayans
I'll even go to black church
With a pastor, ratchet, the deacon be singin'
"Let us pray! Bow your heads, and we Amen!"
Slow it down! I just dissed you!
I said pass the ratchet, the D can be singin'
Let us spray, we'll bow your heads when we aimin'
What?! What?! Nigga, I ain't playin'
What you gonna do when that gat bursts slugs?
Until you see that ratchet show like Bad Girls Club
Nigga, you gonna run to the crib, you ain't even sorta hard
Talkin' that jazz, I'll bring the shell to where you live like 40 Barrs
The reason you only makin' racket over the net like a tennis ball
Is because my style is somethin' Black jack without a deck of cards
I mean nigga, you stole my setups down to the way I say every bar
That's why nobody will ever know who the hell you are
How does it feel to steal everything like Aladdin
And it still didn't get you far?
So learn how to be your own fuckin' man, and man up, nigga!
I bet you won't swear to it and put your right hand up, nigga
That's how we know watchin' Seinfeld
The only time we'll see Jerry be a stand-up nigga, faggot!
I showed you how to do a battle with straight punches through
Pay attention, I'm just teachin' June: that's summer school
But he gon' act like he been rappin' like that
And nothin' was the same
Little shorty, stop, you like 40 Glocc
You ain't bring no punches to the game, nigga. HANH?!


[Round 2: B Magic]
You about to witness bars more than Nine-Lifers and nine cyphers
You couldn't hang with that Surf ninja: Rob Schneider
You wouldn't be fuckin' with the kid: that's the Pied Piper
See, this Mitch'll get smoked like Mekhi Phifer
My nigga, I do the do: I'm a LiveWire
You'll get confronted with the hawk: I'm Rod Piper
He'll lift in this bitch: that's not stilettos
A big shell stick to his back: Donatello
I'm beast mode, the heat holder, I C4 ya
The street poet, I speak sonnet, decode it
R.I.P., Conceited gon' be leakin' with the deceased odor
Have a nigga from New York under cover: Malik Yoba
Call a crime lab, I'm killin' me a motherfucker
Take the strap from this nigga like, "This 9 mine!"
Then kill him with his own shit: I'm John John
You'll see Magic ring on him like Don Juan
Strap under my Sean John, you gon' get it bad
‘Cause if he by these new pumps he'll be in the bag
My advice, buck a pistol and shoot
‘Cause we can fight steel with steel like Bishop in Juice
Bitch, tuck your tail, better split like the percolator move
Or your lights'll get knocked out like the circuit breaker loose
If you buggin' you'll get sprayed, I exterminated groups
Metal talkin', Con'll run like Terminator 2
My bars vicious, is y'all with it? ‘Cause the TEC'll blam
I'm from a place where they killed Mike, you should never land
I'm hot, dog, if y'all grillin', you better scram
I pop corns if anybody in Con's session stand
Get your bars up, Mick Foley with this damn 9
Why show a dude love if he ain't half of the man, Con?
A step away from blowin' up, ‘cause if I land mine
I'm tryna murk niggas, you the first dippin' like Cam'ron
Tell 'em I'm the truth, put steel into his roof
Indiana game if they sayin' Reggie mill'll shoot
Don't get it twisted, you'll get boxed: Duncan Pinderhughes
Listen, go to the whip after makin' the car crash
Screamin', "Fuck Con!", pullin' Reggie out the car dash
Gettin' y'all thrashed, whip y'all ass, I'll bust a slug
A chrome Desi'll roast Reggie like Buddy Love
R.I.P. – I'm killin' this shit
Testifyin' is the only time he liftin' the fifth
This young gun rock a fella, you ain't gettin' the drift?
That mean you hear a MAC, bitch, a milli'll spit
Who fuckin' with me? Nigga, not you, for damn sure
What, you gonna go and get the blicky? Clap and pop it?
Or maybe I should split like a banana, is that an option?
Nigga, you punchin' without landin': you shadowboxin'
I give Reggie the 7: that's a convict
Then give him the 4 plus the nickel for that nonsense
This 47 get to safety when I palm this
My patriot's buckin' near your bronco: I'm John Lynch
I'm from where the Lou is, ain't nothin' fairer, Con
You don't wanna box for real, look in the mirror, Con
Bird nigga, if the Eagle actin' foul, Con
Comin' masked up with the hammer, you will think I'm Shao Kahn


[Round 2: Conceited]
Y'all know how this shit go
I told him once, this mothafucka scared
I'm from the mothafuckin' Lou, that's how this mothafucka play it
You beat up Fox? You heard what this mothafucka said?
You got scooped up and slammed on yo' mothafuckin' head!
I thought I was gonna see
"It's B motherfuckin' Magic, the nigga that be dumpin' them."
Instead you was holdin' onto Fox, lookin' like you huggin' him
Nigga, you didn't throw one swing
When you did you started tumblin'
You do all these punches in your battles
Why you ain't throw no punches then?
I couldn't believe you got your ass whooped like that
With a bunch of guys around you
You was swingin' like this, like it was a buncha flies around you
Then this nigga was beggin' for help, but Suge's ass wouldn't
Fox had you choked out, you was like…
You know how like when you get that good-ass whoopin'?
Then you choked against Rum Nitty, choked against Big T
I thought, "When is this gonna stop and end?"
In his battles, he be chokin' so much
I thought he was fightin' Fox again
I'm droppin' him, he'll be scared of seein' that 45 like he middle age
Bring niggas to his crib like I'm in real estate
Then run in airin' like a had a busy day
I already told you like Triple Eight
I'll take the three out: that's a triple play
It's in my pedigree to put two caps by his head like Triple H
Isn't it ironic it's gonna be mournin' when he get a wake?
I'll show up and put a cap on that box like Minute Maid
I'll get the MAC's out like I'm liftin' weights
You couldn't be next to Con if you were a prison mate
Only thing you ever put the mill on was a dinner plate
And I'm just keepin' it on the real like fishing bait
But since you're actin' the way your bitch do
I'll weave with extensions, bangs are gettin' sprayed
I'll get the TEC's to rise here to make Jerry curl when a finger wave
This nigga stay livin' off me, he a parasite
How y'all comparin' us when he ain't as half as nice?
‘Cause in his battles, most of his punches don't land
It's like the Dizaster fight
That's ‘cause you throw a zillion wack-ass punchlines
You don't care if they dumb or not
So how y'all say he's so cold when his name is June
So we know only some are hot?
Nigga, I'll up your guap
I'ma take dirty money no matter where your faith at
Did he know I got one twelve and a MAC?
Thinkin' you a bad boy, it should be no biggie for you to take that
Your whole team can get a cap like a Brave's hat
After I put the mill on him like a placemat
Nigga, I'll dump and pile the cans like Ajax
This little toy that's hot will be on him: that's a race track
‘Cause I'm the type to make the steel ring like a cage match
For all that rappin' them candy bars, I'm loadin' up every shell
It'll take nothin' but a finger to put it all in this nigga: that's caramel
Your ride can keep gettin' a round: that's a carousel
For anything that Black said
Take out Black head, that's clear as hell
And I bet you that'll make B leave like a fairy tale
Mr. Black Magic, I'll send him straight to hell if I cock the thing
I pack 12 and keep a big 10 like college teams
After a round you goin' to the corner: that's a boxing ring
You got destroyed by Charron and Real Deal, this is not a dream
Them white boys beat you with bars on cam
Nigga, you Rodney King
Honestly, when them hammers are spittin'
You better run, kid, when that can get to grippin'
Because that bitch dump and bow like Angela Simmons

[Round 3: B Magic]
Line his circle up, I put this 4 up to Con neck
All his family reunion like, "Where Con at?"
Clear the building after I make a call: that's a bomb threat
Con, check, I shoot every tattoo off of Con chest
"Conceited"? You look more like a snitch, what about "Con-fess"?
You a bitch nigga that hang with bitch niggas without a doubt
My Brooklyn niggas said
The first time they seen you was on Wild 'N Out
Who wildin' out? Magic palmin' the biscuit
Every motherfucker rollin' behind Con is gon' feel it
Got a pine box in the cemetery, Con should go visit
This bitch is fucked behind these bars: conjugal visit
Yo, step it up, St. Louis, a.k.a. the new Afghan
Keep the ratchet on me in the club like a lap dance
You don't wanna see me, you a coward
It's gon' be a long ride so hold on like Mimi in the shower
False bitch, think I won't smack you, I'll hem him up
Ike Turner: St. Louis niggas been slappin' bitches up
Fuck the guns, we can box and all that
And I kill Con, feelin' like Spock from Star Trek
Give me space, is it my lyrics is just better, Con?
Got a question, what's with the spiky shoes and the leather, Con?
You wear leather pants with zippers on… never mind
This TEC a 9 and buckle your cap like a leprechaun
Ain't no love in hip hop, and that's a fact: Joseline
I'm swingin' where a flock of bitches at, want a meal?
You will eat a shell, shit'll crack
For the bread, I'll bury those niggas, it's a wrap
Can you dig it? Shit, I might as well let a Glock touch ya
Got all types of clips in store just to block busters
A west-sider with this green on me
All on the east side high with this lean on me
I say, "Fuck you!" — yeah I think Con rappin' is borin'
You'll get clapped for performin'
What you know about the smack and the dormin?
You rap, but what gat are you actually palmin'?
I'm in the dump with the metal like the statue of Jordan
But you be dumpin'? Nigga, your name light in the streets
I got a wild style, and Con don't like to get beat
You hypin' the beast, bullets comin' out the can doin' him
Just don't let it go to your head like Brand Nubian
Stake out at your car with the 40 on my waist
He walk in the parking lot, leavin', the party finna shake
Bad Boys 2, you know when Marcus daughter finna date?
I meet Reggie at the door and put a 40 in his face
But I'm supposed to believe you dumpin' that TEC
Well, you was about to sit up on another man's neck
That's gay, whoever thought of it a fag, yes
But who's gayer? The nigga who heard it and said yes
Who is it? It's B Magic, motherfucker, the show arrived
Turnin' y'all schemers into all of y'all dreamers
Pull up with heaters, all in y'all thinkers
Passin' them out on stage like August Alsina
I told him once, this mothafucka scared
I'm from the mothafuckin' Lou, this how a mothafucka play it
Beat me? Can you believe what this mothafucka said?
You musta slipped, fell and bumped yo' mothafuckin' head

[Round 3: Conceited]
Yo, when I show up at niggas' pad drawn it's not Pictionary
I got a gun that's so big…
Fuck a magazine, that shit take dictionaries
I got your bitch on my private like we in the military
And I'm dead goin' deep in that box like I'm in the cemetery
If you gettin' away, I be gettin' a gauge like I'm gettin' married
Dump and then skirt with the pump like a secretary
I will tell all of my niggas to lift the semi
As soon as I scream "Buck it!" bullets woulda been in Jerry
So why would I ever worry about his simple raps?
No URL, but you can get this MAC
That means I got the 10 for you like Reynolds Wrap
So stop the chitty chat, nigga, you don't lift the strap
And got guns slingin', you got none singin' like Sister Act
So you like a bottle of patron, ‘cause you wouldn't lick a cap
I figured that anybody who said he won or lost
I'll call them awesome liars
I mean you thought you were gonna beat me
In this battle and be brought up higher?
Nigga, you burn so much trees it'll be Smokey the Bear
He'll come out when there's a forest fire
Slow it down! I just dissed you! I said
It'll be smokey, the barrel come out and point when the 4 is fired
This nigga's always tryin', but he ain't even kinda scary
You can get ate behind bars: that's commissary
Nigga, make your own style
Stop lookin' for the shortcut, bitch: Halle Berry
Nigga, you damn right, I watch cartoons
So? I don't care what whoever think
Magic School Bus, Tom & Jerry…
Slow it down! I just dissed you!
I said whoever think Magic's cool, bust a Tom in Jerry
This is somethin' that's very crazy, it's somethin' I got to mention
I don't know if y'all know his fatass girlfriend Latasha Simpson
Don't try to tell me, "She ain't fat, she got a fat ass," nigga
No, she is a fatass, nigga, and she looks like a fatass nigga
The worst part is this nigga's married her
She got two twins that's not even his
Don't you get it, little nigga? That means some other cat did more shit to that box than kitty litter
You met them children when they turned four though
You don't get the picture? It's not smart, guy
To raise up twins that are not yours like Sister, Sister
Now, look look… Daddy Daycare, Captain Save-a-Ho
This nigga gettin' mad, he wanna grip the blicker
He wanna cock and peel
Nigga, you shootin' it like you being a stepfather
Even those kids know you don't pop for real
But if you get close, I'm like a klepto, because I got the steel
Paramedics gonna have to patch things up like Dr. Phil
Nickel-plated mag, penny-plated bullets, you'll get shot and killed
Like David Blaine, thinkin' you street
Magic, I'll show you how that copper feel
On the real, I've had enough of it
I'ma pull Magic card no matter how hard you shuffle it
Because it's nothin' but lies in your delivery you feed us
June know he on some other shit
Yo, every nigga you bring with you can get sniped off
I got the stick under arm for any man sent, that's right, God
Shout-out to you even makin' it on Summer Madness
But compared to me, you got light bars
This is Uno, why'd y'all think this would be a draw for
When I'm the reason it's a wild card?
Your whole team can hop in the bag: that's a sack race
You gonna see a lot of big shots like he's backstage
Nigga, you can't hold the SIG like an ashtray
I got two black 8's
And these'll be on the Magic like when Shaq played
The only person you ever put in work with was a classmate
When real Crips see you, they see food and take this crab cake
So I don't want to hear nothin' how your MAC spray
It's like them old-ass plays
We can see them bodies you make up just by lookin' at Black face
HANH?!