URLtv – JC Vs. Chef Trez lyrics

[Round 1: Chef Trez]
Yo, I say, you know neither one of us gon' lose right?
We both gon' win
I mean, you’ll battle anybody, I’ll battle anybody
You back on Smack, I'm back on Smack
You Writers Bloque, I'm Writers Bloque
Nigga, we twins!
But where we separate, I won't clown you for, and that's your dance issues
Nigga, the revolver got a spin with a kick: I'm tryna dance with you!
We was raised different, the shit we go through day to day different
God told you get baptised, he told me to get a gun
We was saved different
A savage, I am one, young hothead with a handgun
Send him to God
He'll be facing the light, like Mike P with a man bun
You want war, hell, I'm at his whip when he with his gang 'bout to spark shells
But y'all snitches, so y'all can get beheaded if anyone in that car tell
How he a killer? If he don't play his part well
You don't hold weight on either side: you not a barbell
You had nothing to market, no brand
As far as writing good, what have you done, J? Nothing!
But I got known off of branding like DeAndre dunking
And I see how niggas like "ehhh" I'm kinda cool with it
Like y'all ain't really see how I’m going off
Like mid-round rebuttals
I can do this shit 'cause I’m showing off
Like, ain't Saga a Christian? So hold on to that
'Cause y'all believe he beasting
But any nigga with him, they’ll get popped if they think he decent
Like I make a mess in front of JC's mans on stage
That's Tink Tha Demon!
But you say a Stephen Curry bar every battle
That shit not working
You never switch it up
THAT'S why they criticize the form when the shot perfect!
But they put a battery in your back like they tryna get the clock working
Well, I'm Glock-squirting, I got money and guns
A band and a nose ringing: it's the Pac version
You want me to put your spine in front of you
And send you back to the future when shots pouring from the ratchet?
Or you wanna get your body stretched from the arm when I clap it?
Or right before you start dancing, tilt your head with a cap and put four in your basket?
That's three options, you can get it like Michael, J
That's Fox, Jordan, or Jackson!
I proved I can hang here a few times, you didn't
And everybody saying crack the reason Yung Ill ain't been back, well, it's a few victims
'Cause I still haven't forgot how Roc had you missing
I mean we all seen it, they dropped you from the league
I know you gotta care
It was like the biblical days when Jesus got stones threw at him
‘Cause the second JC saw Roc, he was outta there!
Smack gon' get this bastard murked
See my last bout? Well, I'mma drag him worse
Clip pop, shit still leaking out after the kid drop: it's after-birth
I'll drag him to the middle of his city while he dead, that's how a savage work
All you gon' here about is JC dying, like a Baptist church!
Free the homie NHB Mills!
I'm sure that's how you feel, of course
Bro be behind you every battle, giving you real support
That's my bro too, so I scream "Free Mills!" before I spark a shot
Then release the mil' like bro got his charges dropped
Personally I don't give a fuck about Julian or any Carter
I had a truth by me
He the size of Blue Ivy: just a mini Carter
He don't bear shit or be with bears, bitch
Who you tryna convince you a grizzly, Carter?
I'll have 30 niggas pistol-whip you
Like, 30 9s press a dent in your shit: now you Jimmy Carter
You battle with random niggas and vets
I even seen you flowing in the Cage
But your career was at a standstill
You wasn't getting closer to the greats
'Til you joined the Bloque
Now you Super Mario, now notice he relates
He must have been on 'shrooms jumping to the Bloque
'Cause now we see him growing on the stage!
You went to war with a few members, but now it's my turn to get you
But you coming back, so they say it's a lesson I'mma learn against you
Well, did the sky crack? Did he come here on a white horse?
Did the trumpets go off? Did the fire burn and hit you?
No? So, how the fuck is JC's return official!?
I got gifted ways, but a lot of the shit I've seen let the kid rage
So be a killer or get killed but you still got to pick a way
So mask up, get a blade or grip the spray
Be equipped with Ks, it's just advice
Either he can purge or he lying after the fifth get raised!
I bring BL4 back to life, just to show you how you could get slaughtered
We don't see the franchise you built: you'll never make it in Brooklyn, Carter!


[Round 1: JC]
All right, y'all ready?
"Well, well, well...welcome back, JC!"
So URL need a nigga that’ll actually stack some bodies
But that's me nigga
But a team member, well I'll have to stash it probably
Which is fine but, get in line while I thrash the body
And make it the worst shit to respond to
Allen Iverson, Tyronn Lue: it's gon' be one step past a body!
Niggas couldn't hold half my spot
Ask the Bloque!
Niggas ask for shots, then they turn they back
So that gets shot!
Nigga, ask the docs about the patients I left ‘em
And I won't quit yet, I got more clips left
And the cap'll swallow his head like the old Dipset
I'm in a class by myself
Why acknowledge me?
Ain't no trying stopping me, they just dying watching me
Crew's at the top of it like Scientology!
Now y'all think I believe, in every battle I've had
My opponents is the ones that really got the heaters
Oh, but soon as I rap, that's when the room turn into non-believers
Them same niggas probably think ‘Bron really drive a Kia
Trez, you do know them slum-slums Ill Will got famous for rapping 'bout, where I was born and raised
Nothing these niggas rap about get the boy amazed
If we approach you, just stand your ground...the Florida way!
And it's too late to jump ship when the 40 rain
'Cause we lifting whole arcs up, for 40 days
And the kid own it, with different joints
And like when you hit Hogan - well, you get the point!
The clips loaded, metal swinging like hypnosis
Get focused, ain't no over heads
It's point-blank range, bitch! You know he dead
They called you the Chef, but they read you wrong
You would blow the lead before you blow the lead, and you know it, Trez!
But it's fine, you can go ‘round with Saga if you think prayer is enough to protect us
I'm from the hood! I know comedians ain't the only niggas that run into hecklers
So be smart tonight
Don't mention the Bloque, and won't none of the homies aid you
They didn't have to promise me
It's Sean Connery: the bond is just too old to save you!
And if he don't step down, we take the whole set down
Kick the door in, hit the vault, quicker than a Cortez round!
I left bodies on this road that I've travelled
I just slump another, then slump another!
No fucking wonder!
Dawg got drive like Dumb and Dumber!
If you got any threat, save it
Your next statement might not even make the arrest papers
It's nickel around that 9, the tech plated
Ain't no life flashing, it's life-snatching
That bitch beautiful...and breathtaking!
Say what you want, but ain't nobody ran in my spot ever
And they won't, I hold that strap
I'll sit a nigga in front of God in that mask...like he Kodak Black!
It's body bags at every battle
Make sure your homies found one
But do not jump in that bitch yet 'cause it's only Round 1!


[Round 2: Chef Trez]
Y'all niggas love this little short motherfucker when he spit his raps
And he Writers Bloque, he kinda cold
I ain't even gon' say the nigga wack
But, see, I did grow up in the slum-slums, and nigga you not that crazy
It is Kodak Black, too
Every round over the head coming from a project baby!
I swear to God I was only gon' have one rebuttal, but y'all wanna see a dummy get murked
I mean for that bull it's crazy how I can put money on his head and then have money on his shirt
Nigga I'm giving you that work, nigga I don't know
Last battle I had P in all red nigga that's Smack shirt
I peeped it, you try hard to make 'em believe in what you say you gon' do
Well I say what it is, point blank period bitch, you can take it how you want to
You have no stripes, no muscle on the Bloque
This fake a sucker
You a grown man in a child's body, little man
What you weighin', brother?
I'mma make a big statement, get outta place and your shit breaking
You don't gotta have a piece of facial hair to get a quick shaving
I can cut both of your sides and then fade it
Or slice your dome and have your wig hanging on the other side like the Temptations
You out of your element, this not what you was made for
Tell yourself focus, Smack finessed you, brung you closer to death too
It seems like a Shell motor
But now the shit peaches and cream: 112 wrote it!
They got Jackson playing Carter like Samuel L. coaching
But not only that was a JC flip
Jackson, Carter: see, it’s still a JC flip!
And niggas telling me I look like dude from Friday that pulled Ezel out the store
So y’all wanna play now
Well, if it's true, he'll get it like Ezel
'Cause once he slip up, I'mma make him take this 40 on the way out
Now look at me, then look at you, you just half the man
I have a plan, grab the can
If he rush ours, it'll kick in front of Carter like Jackie Chan
But not only was that a JC flip
Jackie Chan, Jackie Carter: it’s still a JC flip!
This nigga wack, you not gon' win two rounds
Yeah all them cats love you
But he tryna sham God
So even if I start losing a round I'll snatch it back from you
If you ask about the shit he rapping 'bout he change the subject
I got Writers Bloque, my gang is coming
Empire Mongols, my Genghis coming
And you'll get a limp chopped for the green: yeah, the gang’ is coming!
Then give him writer's block
Baow! He won't think of nothing
You out here judging careers, just 'cause
Tryna belittle people like your shit dope
Besides jacking crazy bars, you ain't shit though
Julian Carter jeopardizing his crew
Y'all can get split if clips blow
JC gon' be the reason shit get separated: that's Jim Crow
But not only was that a JC flip
Judging careers, just 'cause, jacking crazy, jeopardizing crew, Jim Crow...those are JC flips!
I'm not scared of J, you really not too threatening now
Me taking a L? No, I refuse
Aye, anybody thinking otherwise can dead it now
Wait, J-U-L-I-A-N...see, the Chef is wilding
Just like that setup, I can blow him to pieces and have Julian spreaded out
You dying, sucker
See how my lines structured?
My mind gutter, nines touch ya’
Since JC is God son, his background get blew like Nas cover!
And niggas telling me he too nice, like rebuttals won't work at all this time
Well, if the first gun butt don't work, I'll do it again
And the re-butt’ll do the job this time!
Time, man!


[Round 2: JC]
It's really hard for me to adjust to this new generation
No lie, it's like they move strange
They would rather wear diamonds holding loose change
As far as jewelry, my only concern is the food chain
And y'all on it, it's too easy for me to target what's necks
Nigga all of you next, and you gotta be ready to die over them words
So don't talk me to death
They might not know you scared, Trez...but I do!
Oh, and you gon' show it
'Cause that last round was not enough, my nigga...and we both know it
You wanna battle rap till you die? Fine!
Your career might benefit you in a box
But it ain't your size...so they might have to bend to fit you in a box!
You're not a killer, my nigga, neither is Denzel Washington
Y'all just act really well
We jump different hurdles
You a ninja turtle: I drop a band, and a head get wrapped with a shell!
It's way different when I rap, nigga
They don't call me "the man" for nothing
I mean, I don't joke with niggas
It's not poker, nigga, but...you could lose a hand for bluffing
‘Cause everybody knows taking me is a disaster and shit
But do the math: you should know you gon’ get punched when you ask for the shit!
And it'll be nothing else in your path this exciting, God pen
But the Devil in me grabbing the iron and
Hey, these’ll get to cracking like Clash of the Titans
I don't know about y'all niggas but me, see I love doubt
Squeeze and leave a lung out
This appear in the ring like the genie on Punch-Out!
Nigga, bring troops, the four sing n’ rain like R&B groups
I'm smoother rhyming with the punch than Dolomite
But the punch hit you, like the bowl was spiked
Let me explain to y'all why niggas is starting to think 4-bar setups not even nice at all
It's 'cause you always telegraph the punch like…"It's right here, y'all"
That shit worse than handing your playbook to the defense before you hike the ball
Piece of advice: don't let your crew amp you
I got a new handle
And y'all gon' see a nigga end 'em all with the trey like food samples
I can stand with my hands behind my back, rap, and still get a reaction
Pretending you had balls in your hand was your biggest reaction!
And you niggas reacted
But don't worry though, ‘cause I'm back
And I'mma make y'all hate it
This is not a situation y'all safe with
Hollows loaded in front of me like I'm Arsonal
But I'mma make y'all take 'em
A buck at a time like a Ray Charles payment
But if he not home, we coming for you later 
Doomsday ya’, all through the crib with the trey like the butler in Tomb Raider
Nigga you rap and I rap but we at a great length apart
Like you study, but game tapes can't prepare you for the mental part
Like how could I have left, come back years later and some of these niggas favorite still
That's 'cause I aim to kill
My advice: make a will, before Jesus take the wheel
Forewarning, don't be surprised at the sound of the fifth when it clap
Or try to whisper to Smack like "How he get in with that?"
It's nothing to tell, boy
Uncle Elroy: I slipped this in the back!

[Round 3: Chef Trez]
I was at this nigga mama house one Sunday right
I mean that old bitch a hoochie
I'm smooth, laidback, cooling on some boy shit
Aye, let's hit that damn Jacuzzi!
She said that's a bet, pop that ass real quick
His people showed up like an hour late
Now it is Uncle Elroy, 'cause that mag done popped in the pool like his nephew with the sour face
They say it's no way his crazy bars could lose to my average shit, and that's a sin
You see how my hunger and passion blends
I figured this a ATM
'Cause as long as the numbers was right for this card
I can just punch in order to get past the pen
We all name-flip, we all use angles, we all punch
It just depends who better with the shit
Like in basketball: they all shoot, all play defense all dribble
But it's levels to the shit
So try to downplay what I do, when you do the same shit it's the wrong move
I added season to the formula, so how you gon' tell the chef how to cook his own food
You can't be a master at what you do if you ain't master what you do
You gotta see the end vision
I envision that this gon' be your end, vision
Me dying? Please be quiet
I'm too cutting the Bloque: that's an incision
But what you gon' say? I rapped on John John league?
Well, that should let you know that the pen different!
OG said don't stop shooting till everything in that sub gone
And make sure you got something over your hands, that's word to this scrub's home
See you was working with the pen tryna put on for the Glove
We were staying away from the pen 'cause we put the gloves on
Smack said "Get him," but, see, all that gassing for him just gon' make his head bigger
It's also gon' be the reason the lead hit him
Shots fly and have the Yak on the ground like...rest in peace to my dead niggas!
I be in Pontiac in a Pontiac with my fam mobbing
Catch JC with his bitch and rob him
Like give up the bread, he like "Fam, stop it"
Either you can walk away free or get the whole clip when the can popping
I’mma make him choose between 0 and 30: gave him Durant options
See the youngster on his grind, I'm a monster with the nine
Gun with the beam, put it by him
If I dump it, then he dying
It flash from his chin up like, ‘Once upon a time’
I swear to God if I have to grip it, my whole crew shooting
And what's up with these niggas with struggle and gangsta bars?
These dudes clueless
Niggas got shotties in their pants legs, deuce deuce in their boots but they move stupid
I had the pack in my briefs, AR in my jeans...and I walk regular 'cause I'm used to it!
We was poppin' locks, breaking in houses, and tryna kick the door down
You was pop, lock, and breaking, tryna tear the floor down!
I'll turn savage on him, pull up in his block and I'm blasting something
Two guns, I double the treys in that Michigan state: I'm Magic Johnson
Yo Smack, next time I get on stage, could you get a sign that says "Beware" please?
I went from Ryda to Mike to JC: my progress moving at rare speed
But you stuck in the same spot, you were just with ARP over there, see
Where's the progress? You went from Rare Breed to battling a rare breed!
Now let's play "Swear to God", 'cause they say you a man of your word, and you stand by it
Well, swear to God you wasn't out there stealing 15 dollars from fans, talking 'bout they'll get a signed album
See, fam lying!
You out here stealing on fans like Ron Artest, this man trifling
You bum ass out here finessing fans for Gram prices and you do it like the shit cool
See, you a bold fellow
Well, I'll send you half the 30, and put 15 in your face: you'll meet the old Melo!
The weight I hold to you might be too much to curl
But you be switching moods, in and out of emotions like a fucking girl
This like GTA story mode, 'cause changing your character will get you sent to another world
And niggas question if I belong on this stage, this shit is over with
You caught a head shot, no open casket, they gotta close your shit
I walk up to your mother like "Sorry, my condolences
You miss your son? Yeah?”
BAOW! Y'all can be closer then
If you can't stand the heat, stay the fuck out the kitchen
I done cooked another nigga: time to clean up the dishes!
Man, it's Chef Life!

[Round 3: JC]
Now, of course Smack did throw you to a wolf, but it's a purpose for that
You heard it's a fact you can die here, so don't blame that purpose on Smack
You the chef...you were supposed to know the risk working with crack!
I attack too strong, you can lose your sanity going man to man with me
Why even try? Lose a whole league of guys
JC died for your sins, flip that, if you send for JC you die
I done had enough stunts
Let me guess...you grew up trapping
"Dawg was in the field with the birds like Duck Hunt"- nigga, shut up!
They gave you the fucked up hand and you played with the shit
Even got him on stage with the shit, tryna be the franchise
Well don't get caught in the wrong chain of events
Nigga my rage genuine
First it was, "JC you gotta slow it down they not catching it, be patient with 'em"
Then it was "Well where’s the old JC you gotta stop playing with 'em"
That's why it's not worth it
That's why niggas still criticize the form when the shot perfect
But you, you just gotta watch your next step
'Cause the way I land mine makes everybody a target when I plan mine
Your bitch catch the heat from these straps, she not walking out with tan lines
I'm worse than the Undertaker in that cell
This shit can get ugly for man kind
But this shit an arm’s length
I plead insanity, then take him from his family when the arms lift
Then reunite him with his family on some Chris Benoit shit
I take 'em all, I'm tired of you and these 4 bars setup niggas
Spitting that shit that you hope is hot
Then y'all end up every setup with “ain't it ironic”- no nigga no it's not!
For what's at stake, he get a tip then I have 'em documenting what's left
Then I give 'em more bucks like, compliments to the chef
See what you looking at? This ain't an image
Guarantee we can see the same picture and still paint it different
That's 'cause my penmanship ended shit, y'all witnessed it
Finished it in the first round, you rebuttal, if I'm generous
I could have made this a whole homi first
With me waving the strap like Bonnie third
You wanna a movie about the life that you lived?
Fine, the plot is first
Nigga headshot, noodles get boiled in the mix behind these bars
Yeah I cook up with the shotty
I catch him in traffic, make the shit jam
His parents gon' be the 6th man
'Cause they gon' all pull up to a body
Shout out to Tink tha Demon, but I might be the only one in the building that actually speak to demons
Got a glove on both hands, didn't even get 'em dirty but did him dirty
Hit the Chef, with the 30
This Chef gon' need a cater attempt to serve me
No bygones, 'cause by dawn we hit the door up Jehovah witness early
The path that a lot of these new niggas run TRITE!
Everything from how they move has been done twice
Even they speech is stolen like Trump wife
But if y'all ever hear niggas that literally write they're disgusting
They deserve to get punished
But this my man, he could have just sat observing the function
‘Cause now the naysayers gotta deal with the haymakers
And as y'all see they still land, worse than Columbus
Trez, it is over with-
...TIME, man!