URLtv – 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 Player's 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
Cuz at that moment... you were a part of Cor' progression
"BIGGER NINE!" Nah, he get the .45; simplify it
Then we black in when we move out; gentrify it
Y'all been seeing 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 jumping 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 thinking you can reach cuz 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 cuz I couldn't help the line
Bitch, the 11 ring like Celtic Pride, he be sleeping 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 squeezing
A couple hit him and his bitch like they swinging
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 pledging
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 saving
"Strapped In", bitch these small rooms are padded, you see how we style taming?
And just for the proof, I'm on stage with the shotgun
Metal blowing, I'm the Midwest Miles Davis
Bitch, we crushing grooves, you could be with 100 dudes and be the first to pop
But when that ratchet spitting, 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 cuz 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
Seeking gold but found the pieces of scrap and settled for lesser
Well then (welding), 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 kicking like it's it 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 eating 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 talking battle tactics? I'm talking more men (Mormon) at ya place than a tabernacle
With a mag' to lend (Magdalene) giving 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 painting 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 moving 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 facing the barrel, staring 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 looking for you, yeah, we gotta send a permanent mesage
Door to door like Charron with the furnace inspection
Of course we checking 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 talking Steve to Stephan:
What's in that chamber making 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 doing the most, we got the nigga tied, sitting, 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 owing heart (Owen Hart)
And real niggas gon' hold you to that and you know it's a fact
Now the nigga screaming "MADNESS" when the show finna start
Leaving 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 missing 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 getting outclassed but however you feel, trip (field trip)
And wherever you wanna take it we busting 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 cracking
Like the first game of the season... a real home opener
My name was mentioned and the game was shifted, that's cuz 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 amazing 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, it sucks
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 holding on my waist?
I'll wet up every dry spot you been controlling with your pace
Always chasing Lux, well now you run to something 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 testing (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 raging, I'm in Pontiac in a Pontiac, out the window clapping with some big shit
*BRRR---* I even had a automatic in the stick shift
If I get to airing, 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 missing but found JC in the temple like Mary and Joseph
I'm laying you flat, I'll even come to where you staying with gats
Shoot up your family house 'til it's an abandoned house
I even put a bullet in boards, I leave nothing hanging 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 blazing on him, he running; leg shot, the sprint gets slower: data shortage
Blade is on me, tucked, keep cutting 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 coming in, I can catapult ya
I'm the one cultivating the soil for aggriculture
Ya bitch get one right in the dome, the ladder spark her
Make something 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 lurking 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 getting a melon sliced like Fruit Ninja
They all knew this shit was gon' be a landslide, it's not much youth comparing
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 posting 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 taking it past the rapping?
Nigga, you high? You ain't the only gangsta nigga living in this room
But you might be the only nigga to die!
Cuz 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 cuz the target's on him
It's just designed in me to utilize my time swiftly
But a nigga still driving 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 using, he get the crowd hyp-- these niggas dying 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 branding (Brandon) like Bruce Lee
It's all that jumping 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
Cuz it ain't your talents, I seen all this shit before you gained a habit
I'd be complimenting you to say it's average
But whatever, bruh... red dot on the can, eight shots gon' send seven 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 rambling 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 something you thought I was dreading, 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
Cuz 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 fighting
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 gun powder started to blend
Fuck a glove, it's enough rubber on the handle when I'm palming 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 dancing; 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 cuz 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 perpetrating 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 standing 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 bothering is y'all allowed him get away with this shit
As if before we wasn't all watching him
I even had to check your past (pass): hall monitors
I'm sick of you fronting; 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!