URLtv – Mike P Vs. Chef Trez lyrics

[Round 1: Mike P]
So it's Mike P versus Chef Trez
I gave Smack that "Are you for real face?"
Aight bet
Since you Chef why don't tell me how this meal (mil) taste?
To create a wave to serve you that'd be cool Chef
But in the kitchen you gonna always be second to cook
You ain't sous (Tsu) Chef
For those who oppose my presence (presents),my gift from me to you
They done lied to, I'ma lie to you
You praying to the east
Leave it to me to help you to see the truth
I'll rip heads off, son for cats with drive thinking they need a roof
So treat my personal space like a secret and well keep it between me and you
It hurts, and you thought Mike P would be feasible
They gave you a plate thinking you eat
And my hand shout out the bottom like Beetlejuice!
I ain't black and white, suited for crazy shit
Slay ya bitch, it's kid games
Two hands to her face soon as I peek a boo
It's chess moves and you sound pawn
Which means you opposition to a Bishop
I feel (Philly) these cats but just don't choke until you a round off
And to it assist a row (Cyssero) of rappers it's so backwards
I mean why help em up when I can just bomb on a man that's self destructive?
Is your soul bold?
Stone Cold: ya head'll hit the can
Arms out for acting yellow here
Tell Trez to get a cab
In your mom's crib while she's showering playing Demolition Man
Wesley snipes she'll be staring at old weapons through the glass
Think White Men Can't Jump, metal in my hand
Woody Harrelson: Trez, this shit never gonna jam!
Pussy you get the same right twice, deja vu setting
Cookout, chef will get his bell rung like the food ready
Dude deadly, dig a grave and ditch a wack fuck
They knew I bombing on Chef like the kitchen backed up
I don't rap with a mind attached
Playing Atomic Attack, chef tie aprons right?
So I'll put a strap behind his back
What you present to the table ain't appealing face facts
You can't cook for shit Chef, I should've sent the plate back
Fist to guns, I'll still take life with a pound out
Any knife will put a clown down
Try to Air Mike I'll lace up on a loud mouth
Mike P turn into Mike Jai White with a roundhouse
I'll deck a goon, crescent moon
You don't even know hot to close a round out
But as soon as I found I was going at Trez
I asked the world for energy, to start throwing at Trez
You wanna go cool (Goku) if I drop the ball I'll throw it at Trez
What I got to put in super sayan or somethin'?
To leave a spirit bomb you got to make every round go over the head
And don't gas up the tank
I'll give em all the boom, he don't play right
I call an audible
I twist caps, I can't pour out but the 40 do
I'm onto you, break into your house & start sorting through
I left the crib looking Angry Fan's shorty room
And you league hop
Man, you like a relief pitcher
You fuckin' fiend, how you left the Bullpen to pitch that bullshit to another team
I should bring that shit to his house
Jurassic Park; you'll see Jackson sat down with a cig' (Sig) in his mouth
I got a plan now, there'll be a man down
I leave to South Park, I told Ike/Kyle, "Leave this bro cold wit' a can' mouth"
You fryin' Chef? Let's see how it pan out
I Jay Blac, we can get it shakin' in front of the cam', I'm tired of hand outs
MAC-10, I ain't only rappin' for the moment
Got a bad bitch? Tell her whine, I'm attracted to the motions
Had her back bent, threw a condom on, lit candles for the aroma
Kick the door like "I'm strapped in! I'll clap you in a coma!
Madness!
You gettin' shot or grazed that's goin' past your clique
You thought this would be a pro test (protest) take a knee, you gettin' Kaepernicked
And you just got engaged to yo' girl, well that's a savage trick
Cause she know when yo' pussy ass die tonight, she claimin' half ya shit
Time bwoy


[Round 1: Chef Trez]
I say this nigga Mike P was better than [?]
Nigga that's how you do shit?
True shit, nigga you a bitch and you won't move shit
Peek a boo? Nigga I'm too slick
Come to the slot, soon as he slide through, it's two fists
It was ehh? It was ehh?
Well don't none of y'all niggas pop those K's
I'm strapped in
It's like Twork, the wrong stare/stair get you dropped on stage
It's crazy tho, you thought I was really gon' play witchu
All these gimmicks after Daylyt beat yo' ass, nigga I see the gay in you
Hold on, what did he say? Uhhh, somethin' 'bout Angry Fan wife or whatever
Well these caps homeless and you nice, right? Can they stay wit' you?
I said you never really won a battle, nigga body somethin'
Mike P top five? Aight somebody frontin'
Y'all know the last league I was in, but since I came back I've been highly buzzin'
Shit changed since my return from the Pen, I'm Bobby Johnson
You only here cause Gjonaj fucked up, so I'ma need this guy to relax
Cause you can die where you at, I'll rob to attack so don't back slick
Or slick back at the door, this white bitch can get surprised with a MAC
Or if I don't feel he (Philly) real when I cross Mike the trey shootin'; Iverson back
I proved I was a Smooth Criminal since Ryda, you know what you got into
But I'm up to Speed, Demon did well but he did not get you
But it's all Bad cause now you got issues
It's in my Human Nature
Y'all gave Mike, Jack son, you should've known I can Rock With You
I'm blessed with greatness, accept the date, Chef will bake him
Big gun raisin, shit heavy, look like I'm hesitatin'
Blow your legs from under you, make 'em stand out that's decorations
Then blow his brains to God, put his mind in a peaceful place; meditation
She was cuffin' the sack, goin' side-to-side like she Egyptian
You ain't like that bar? It wasn't a crazy written?
You took a cold ass haymaker and started thinkin' gay shit
Aight you trippin', well it's different fam'
Aim two guns at his head, I click the can's
Your head will get rocked between two fifth, that's the Egyptian Dance
I'm armed, peep, sneak by him wit' the large piece
On my tip toes, gotta creep slow, so he don't hear the soft squeeze, gotta get close
Caught bro off of Broad Street, went behind Mike wit' the metal like I'm givin' an award speech
This shit like Marshall Lars
You think you could rock T in the ring and bring death after?
Well I'ma champ, this won't be a loss or a tie, I'm the best bastard
But you though? Surrounded by TEC clappers
You ready for what I'm sin say (sensei), yes and it'll bow (BAOW) in front of you
Yes master, nah, nah let me put that last line in the pot and [?] up somethin' nice
You gunnin', right?
You just a backpacker that wanna write against Smack rappers
I'm meant for the shit, you just fuckin' hype
Well I dump it twice, trap rapper
All you hear is "bow bow" in front of Mike
But they say you ill
I'm like, "Who gon' kill me?" They say you will
Dude chill, I watched your career and seen you build
But the truth still, this my home
The only time this we see police (Pulice) get a round off in my Station is Fruitville
Now somebody gon' lose, right?
It's either me or you so fallin' back what you need to do
I mean are you decent? True
But y'all gon' be shocked wit' this one
Cause done bit off more than P can chew (Pikachu)
Nigga act brave, I'll shut a pussy down quicker than Backpage
Shots hit him, now white boy movin' slow as his body in Max Payne
You can get popped while rappin', another cat slayed
This infrared, ain't on a King Of The Dot contract
So there can be dots in front of you on this Smack stage
And what's up with the Hadouken
They said are you gonna Ryu kick
Blue fist, kung fu shit
Cause when you got punched in that battle...you forgot ya whole movement
Crazy thing is he ain't fight back
He looked at him like, "Why you hittin' me? I ain't do shit."
The whole seen was Ludacris, you should've tried to Move Bitch
But you say I need work, well you need work too nigga
You know URL not fuckin' witchu the right way, did that hurt you nigga?
I'm just sayin', everybody gettin' better names than yours the same
The plans don't concern you killer
They wasn't gonna book you after daylight (Daylyt), you got a curfew nigga
Just remember, without me, you wouldn't be on Born Legacy
You'll just be another Yellow Tape nigga under Born's legacy
Time bwoy


[Round 2: Mike P]
Those rebuttals was crazy as hell boy
I'm impressed
Whatchu hit me wit' like, three of them thangs?
Good rhymin' Trez
But I'll still steal a show, get rough housed, I'll dot a Trez
I set this battle up cause I got the Juice, get the queue (Q), especially after that lil' Ryda mess (Radames)
Got a deck, if it's green you talkin' I'll let a clip fly
Roll up on some keep shit, get loud and leave the kid fried
Bong ya, rasta smoke, black Eagle to lift guy
I left 'Rez (res) on the pipe like I ain't that eager to get high
You told Ryda, "I'm like the lunch lady, wit' the trey (tray) I'll diss (dish) you kids."
Yeah I know ya bitch ass ain't say it, you prolly wish you did
He had the scorpion pound, behind the back, it took outta place
But me? I Sub Zeros, with a low pound that blew (blue) by the waist
I'm wit' the shit tonight, clip and pipe
Ya mom get it, that bitch could die
You'll pass a day after I'll lay ya hoe down, that Carrie Fisher life
Got young ones, 21 Savage, they'll get to slice
I'll carve a cross on ya forehead...it's a knife
Pick a fight, this a human vs an Annunaki
Head shot, blew his head red like Lil' Yachty
Timbs close him up now
I'll stomp ya head til' ya Peanut live on the street
"I'm ten toes the fuck down!"
Pussy! Pussy!
Ya arrogance done left the best out the bag
This is Mike P workin' versus Trez makin' trash
Knew I'd leave you laid out, dome hit, NOME 6
You'll hear Smack, then outta nowhere ya chest (Chess) facin' Ave
You had a gay Egyptian dance vs Ryda, that was some different mo'
You pretended to hold- man pause, I do it different though
Your girl was on my shit, tryin' to pop her head up to prevent the choke
So in order to hold her head down I had to hit them folks
This a bulls eye, Bullseye and I'm fit to throw a dart
Have a set execution, French Revolution, I'll rip a bone apart (Bonaparte)
Was sent here, to put the lights out, soon as he show a spark
I X-Men with a blade out the pocket that's Logan sharp
Split ya shit, ribs to chin, I know an Ark 2 animal
You wanna free ya way off this boat with a Genesis
He told me, "Look, the rhyme amazin'. Better book, alarm is blazin'
I'm Chef Trez."
Bitch you can't even cook up a conversation
But you here now, cry tears clown
You a sad joke, Mariah Carey, you done kicked off this year on a bad note
Mad quotes, knew to slit man throat
I gotta be bakin' (bacon) so the Chef cracked and white whipped
This bag dope, Neo life
The fight plugged into me, you can see The Matrix
I'm The One to drop zeros in code, you'll be a matrix
Reach and break it
You write like kids in class rushin' last night's homework in before the teacher take it
Trez be like, "I'm a real OG. And you a chump scrap
Chopper on the whip if I get mad. I'll bust caps
The price? Ya life if you bust back."
You get the deuce deuce then the nine mil', I charge the .22, plus tax
You don't know how I take on Day'
Rum Nitty the only time ya ID Mike's fake on stage
Boy I used to put drugs on the menus, hella weight copped
Tay Roc, I almost pushed Drugz in the venues
I said I brought metal for poor situations: I'm a cheap bastard
Punch after punch, Trez ain't know I was a speed-bagger
Old pistol, shoot like a new pistol, it's remastered
Blow ya brains on ya bitch, turn the girl of ya dreams into a dream catcher
Ya boo can see the top guy
Schoolin' me, do not try
Ya left ya last class, Trez: ya truancy is not wise
Move at me wit' foolery and you will see a stock rise
The red dot follow Trez: our UAV is online!
But we like those little kids arguin' on the bike, for real
This shit be a joke
I'm a grown ass man, Trez like, "Man, you don't even smoke."
Smoke?
Man every time yo' daddy whoop ya ass you cry
Stop bein' bold
Chef Trez, bitch you burnt a ham sandwich
Why the fuck you didn't just eat it cold?
Time, man


[Round 2: Chef Trez]
Outta all that bullshit you just said bro, I don't really believe nothin'
On stage doin' all this Mortal Kombat bullshit, well this geek frontin'
Nigga it is Sub Zero when that heat dumpin'
I'm crouched down, two arms together, like I'm tryin' to freeze somethin'
But it's "Mike P, god shockin' gift, I'm bringin' thunder
Marketing genius, my Facebook Live does bangin' numbers
You're one dimensional, I hate your style, you're not ready
You should've waited longer
I swear, since I got decked in my first battle, I've hated punchers"
Nigga fuck you
Since I can't hook off on you for real like I tryin' to
I'm just gonna punch this whole fuckin' round to remind you
Why try to mix wit' the Chef?
Throat shot, Mark Henry, he'll dread missin' his neck
Or different approach given him wreck
I'll let two blast off, bad cough
That's a pound in front of his mouth and a fifth to his chest
Pay respect when you face the Chef
They wasn't gon' put you on this shit sucka
You couldn't smoke and fry Day' (Friday) so they removed you; he Chris Tucker
You wasn't ready for Day' he proved you was a wack writer
Y'all remember Pokemon? Well it's crazy
You wanted URL to send a Quill (Cyndaquil) but ya plan backfired
But niggas say I'm low key petty and childish and that's annoyin' me
So I'll go to his house like a lil' kid with a new toy to see
Break in, hear Mike in the bathroom, here goes the lil' boy in me
Shots fly through the door, now it's P (pee) all over the toiletseat
I say my pen different like I was surrounded by guns and drugs, don't get shit twisted
Sub wit' the white, that's a MAC wit' the 'cane, I'm big pimpin'
The OG's forced that fat ass chopper in my hand like, "You wit' the shits? Grip it."
Now I'm Smokey in Friday, see how they set me up with these big bitches?
Who confused this guy?
Got him thinkin' he can kill me off the league, well you can try
But this shot for both of us determines what happens next, it's do or die
Aww fuck it, the deuce arrives
You got two 2s? Better shoot wit' pride
As soon as he raise both, his head get popped, he crucified
Clip sparker, Yellow Tape ya Gang, right? Well it gets darker
I'm automatic, no missed targets
This Yellow bitch will get caught wit' a MAC (Mack); Miss Parker
Abuse blocks, tool pops, smooth shot
Henny sippers get wet up, comin' after hours (ours) like skinny dippers
This risky nigga, you can get popped, my crew really killers
We hella deep, like a couple midgets, that's too (two) many (mini) niggas
This square is hatin', he think he over the head but very basic
A rim grazin' dunker, yeah we give you your props, but you barely made it
Get mad, I'll air and blaze it
Dum dums, Jim Carrey made it
A bald head, make it hard for Mike to move; Gary Payton
I fought wit' lions, tigers and bears, but you don't think that the Chef is above you?
You can't war wit' animals, he Denzel in Training Day, police (Pulice) losin' respect in the jungle
This flow bull, but I'ma continue what Mike started
They say I should try barkin' against Mike before I'm slaughtered
Look at that, now the Chef cookin' fast, it's a light order
You ordered 'Lyt but that Watts was too bright on that 'Lyt order
Take the lights off ya, I'm darker, the Night Crawler
Say "goodnight" partner
I'm cuttin' ya life shorter
Get ya brains pushed back
You can't see the gun? Try harder
Cause the fo' fo' still (steel) in reach like my father
Are you fuckin' clueless? Nigga these shits we clutchin' ruthless
And I will rob you for everything you got, don't be fuckin' stupid
Hit his block like, "Yo that's Mike P's crib" then rush into it
Spot him and snatch Mike (mic) up quick; "Yo cut the music"
Ave battled him and took off right after abusin' him
I mean Smack gave you chances, but battles you kept losin' 'em
I seen a window of opportunity, get Mike to agree so I can reach a bigger stage then ruin him
See he just like a mic, he ain't been official unless another rapper usin' him

[Round 3: Mike P]
Quick question yo
Ah, when fans think Trez, what y'all think?
Tight lines, scheming, great king, bossin', buckin' heads, eager to be the best veteran?
Yeah that's weird because when I think Trez I think:
Night time, sneezing, aching, coughing, stuffy head, fever so you can rest medicine
I went from fly Quill to Nyquil
Maybe it's me
Can y'all imagine Trez puttin' a baby to sleep?
Like, "How you wanna sleep baby? I don't stop wit' the harm
You'll get the bye bye (ba ba) in ya mouth, pass the sock to ya mom
You'll get laid down in the crib wit' metal over ya top wit' the charms
Or the bald head come over the shoulder after you get rocked wit' these arms! Awwww"
Boy I'm Leo on the balcony, I'm dishin' out these upper case L's
That dumb talk will get a tagged tongue, get this sucka fake 12's
You jaw jap and I'll shove a TEC down
Gun'll blow, Muppet Show, you won't hear a word comin' out of Chef mouth
You can't grab the moment, off of raps alone, Trez act the boldest
I grab the boulders, throw 'em, bat at ya shoulder
Bad ass who jokin' cause static Trez, 'matics Trez, I return to bad habits Trez
Soon as you stress me out, I'm goin' back to smokin'
BAM! A left cross to his head, he got his dome hooked
BAM! The impact of the four done got his ho shook
BANG! The meat slid off the ribs like it was slow cooked
BANG! He passed wit' his eyes closed that's called a no look
Not done, I took blood from his head and did his boo greasy
Slapped a hand print on that ass, too easy
She didn't recognize the bald head, I thought she knew Beasley
Chin shot, turn your whole cheek red, now she Glueazy
Aye, boy stop it you lost conscious, you should've got black balled, Norbes blocked it
Cold world Trez and you a false prophet
Now my biggest fans get to see guard dropping, career clocked in
Time runs out while Michael Koor watches
And before I'm one step closer to be on NOME poppin'
I cracked open a small door to put your poor stock in
Said you'll never lose to a white boy; stop it
Til this white boy punched you outta the ring; Bernard Hopkins
Box, nobody holdin' Michael down
I flash back like puttin' cards in a bike wheel to get the motorcycle sound
You couldn't last throwin' hands, your Chef T man is drunk
The right hand; Coneheads, you'll go to sleep standin' up
I got power now, since I was the rookie myself
You're here, literally, because of me Trez I booked it myself
This a mirror match, yeah, til I took a look at myself
And pushed Chef to the side like, "I'll cook it myself."
I had my sights on Trez, I followed him for weeks at a distance
Got a mold out of his door, made a key for the entrance
Waited for nightfall, it came so I creepily entered
Had a secret treat for dawg, you know, sneaked in a biscuit
The fo' fo', surprisingly low, caught him and his queen in the kitchen
He said, "Mike Pulice?" I said, "Police?" Put the beam to his missus
And said, "Chef Trez! Bro are you seein' the mission?!"
He said, "My bad, my bad it's P.U.L.I.C.E. and not P.-"
"Oooh you think it's a difference."
Boy I molly crooks, I carry the heat that Riley took
I'm an Annunaki, I followed the Hammurabi book
Get ya shit pushed back, one blink and his body took
Six shots, Chef on the floor like he was drinkin' while he cook
Bad wreckage, you can peep past records
Look at the vinyl Chef, you've been to all these cookin' comps', meet the final chef
This the end of my third, and the start of ya downward spiral
Chef get cracked with Cognac, Henny everywhere, wanna be viral Chef?

[Round 3: Chef Trez]
I say, how you the best wit' rhymin' when you not electrifyin'?
Need new wiring, I battled dudes, went to war wit' plenty crews
And improved tryin' shit, never lose
I got Iron skin, I've been to new environments
I walked through the doors ready for work, "Are you hiring?"
The police blast rounds at a black crowd til one of layin' flat down
But y'all accept police in this sport, so I'm mad now
I get violated in the streets for lookin' like a hoodlum, every time y'all pass round
So let me return the favor, now police (Pulice) get the pat down!
"Oh Mike P has moments", dude, that is just bogus
No matter what he brought, nothin' he do gonna help my opponent
But what he does have on this battle, Eminem, one shot, and you gonna Lose Yourself in the moment
But the same angles every battle? That's wild weak
You not real but they don't buy it, Mike's fake; Canal Street
"Kill the Chef", "body Trez", "Mike 3-0"; child please
I'm in front of Mike tryin' to make a soul lift; I'm Al Green
My type great, this guy type fake
Why fly my way to get a kill? These rounds hittin' home, the drive-by way
Vampire, we seen you die by Day'
My only question, what the fuck is a moment, to a nigga wit' a highlight tape?
Let's go then, wear a vest or protect yo' chin
You ain't a real shooter, you just rap 'bout it
Them fairy tales gon' end
You hold a gun like when you shoot? That's a "hell on" then
That's like basketball, coach said, "When you shoot, keep ya elbow in."
And you said you used to slit ya wrists, right? See you a sucka nigga
That's white boy shit to the max P and they ain't fuckin' witcha
But my question, how you on stage talkin' like a fuckin' killer?
Bitch you couldn't kill yourself, how you gon' body another nigga?
Sad part is, you'll do anything so you don't get neglected
But you say I battle too much, well I don't expect for you to respect it
I got homies locked up, some of this battle money gets sent to them corrections
Cause they wouldn't be calling collect if I wasn't makin' collections
I do this shit so they can see the exit
Know there's ways to beat oppression
Write down your thoughts and rhyme, keep a positive mind to beat depression
You was strung out at one point, so even I hope you see the message
I receive my blessings, y'all nerds might not like it, but the streets accept it
I go through shit 24/7, the struggle had me out my mind young
So I face my problems night and day, why would I run?
Sleep is the cousin of death, so I'll sleep when my time done
Cause I'd rather have bags under my eyes than be inside one
Ain't no snappin' on the beast, this ain't them niggas you battled who just be rhymin'
Now you rappin' wit' a leash
You Mike P, I'm Mike Lowry, that's a Bad Boy that Will black on the police (Pulice)
I be wild as shit, a young nigga doin' this, and my talent sick
I'm 22, a grown ass man, but don't try me like a child and shit
Y'all gave blood a chance to mix wit' P (pee) like some symptoms after dialysis
Well tryin' to nap on me? Got him wrapped up, that's sleep paralysis
Let's talk about your career, against Haixan you was an average guy
Against Tink you lost, but held ya own with some massive lines
Daylyt taught you a lesson, that's expected, ain't that surpised
But then you played Ricky, thought it was gon' be an easy walk but ain't make it out that Ave alive
And if you can't stand the heat stay the fuck outta the kitchen
I done cooked another nigga...