URLtv – Tech 9 Vs. Jerry Wess lyrics

[Round 1: Jerry Wess]
Let's get straight to the motherfuckin' body bag
This ratchet allergic to Blowpops and jokes, it don't lollygag
I roll up on him like he got the wrong prescription
Then peel (pill) back ya style like ya bitch left you with blue balls
You still wack
But I can help you wit' ya set ups
Get ya stills up baby, like puttin' an extra floor in the psych ward, now the build up crazy
My word play's sick and the schemes be very hard
Like startin' fights in clubs, I punch in every bar
He with his chick in the Nissan, I off his (Office) Max, they froze up
If she stay, pull a trigger and let the chrome bust
Put three holes in 'em, for the paper, now your soul dust
That bar may go over they heads, but you {smacks his hands} gon' catch the whole punch
If I see the bull comin', I lift it, like a matador
A gun inside of a fire truck, I put the ladder on
Arm in the blade, baracka style how I'm slicin' dawg
All he gon' see is the Tommy with the dagger, look like I'm callin' for the dragon sword
See that two, it rain man, from The Glove
It's on bitch, that mean you catch the rock off GP like Shawn Kemp
He get mixed, Jesus Christ, watch him spin and he twirl
I give him Hell on Earth if he box, have him rememberin' Earl
You gon' get one, hit God, tryin' to pretend for ya girl
Cause the only way ya arm will get in (Armageddon) if it's the end of the world
Now they said you was a threat, must've missed that
I see my niggas and tell 'em, "Clear it out", like this a mismatch
The shotty no joke, think I'm playin', sayin' get back
This shit Kid N' Play dances, it's best known for the kickback
So you got two choices, be the bitch or the shooter
Drive-by in a taxi I let it lift (Lyft) out the Uber
That ratchet hear you talkin', but it don't get to her
Silencer, talk to your soul, it's a ghost whisperer
My style cold, his timid and it isn't violent
Write the way I fight, in the pen' crazy, like prison riots
I start bookin' through ya block, dumpin' wit' the heat
Me and Gandhi tryin' to be president, I'm runnin' wit' the piece (peace)
You gon' earn (urn) this death, cremation the only thing they can do to you
The bullets is throat lozenges, it won't be no coughin' (coffin) at the funeral
Beat me? You got it all the way twisted, like a long dread
Neo and Morpheus, I had to choose to pill (peel) with a bald head
I gun butt him, and from the D, Wade, I black wit' the piece
Think URL sponsored Miami, y'all gon' see this nigga Smack wit' the Heat
What I did for battle rap- what HE did for battle rap, was monumental
Now I think you crazy, in my mind you mental
But you a vet', right?
And I seen your team work but before get to that...let me scheme first
I'm in the limelight, it'll appears your shorty, see a money move
I fig' he can't be mad at me for what his honey do
She call me papa yeah (papaya)
Tight, but you soft wit' it
Before he come to where I live (olive), I'm on his porch wit' it
On key we (kiwi) move in, slammin' on your door
I see ya mom moms - BAH! 'Nana (banana) on the floor!
My main goal to find ya boys and bury her (boysenberry), that's karma, damn it
If this fruit wishin' to get smacked, my palm'll grant it (pomegranate)
He been dead, for the headshot, stretch a zombie
My niggas like, "Nah let me kill him for you", and I catch it probably
My niggas like, "Dude, Tech bad. It's gon' be a homi."
Instead I did a trust fall, cause if I fall back he gon' catch the body
You smokin' me?
Wait, wait, wait, in his interview, he said I couldn't get the Benz
Somebody lied to you...
So I pulled up, in a Bentley, with the wider view...
"Jerry Wess, I know you the man, nigga."
I'm remindin' you!
I give you a head start before I start shootin', I'm timin' you
Who the fuck said you gon' beat me?
Who put Molly in your Sprite?
I'm showin' y'all the new Batman suit, this the body of the night (knight)
Time nigga


[Round 1: Tech 9]
Can y'all hear me?
Well aight then
You good?
Well aight then
S.P.I. two T.A.G.E
Y'all motherfuckers get it right Wayne A.V.E
Smack, I'm pissed the fuck off, I should've been on Rookies vs. Vets
I'm a vet, he ain't even a rookie
Far as I'm concerned, you ain't make it to the pros
You still tryin' to crack your way in, you like Pookie
The way I switch the Camaros up remind you of Tookie
You're all on social media sayin' anything like Kanye remindin' me of Gucci
92% of you battle rap niggas is pussy
Get on social media talkin' heavy, then at the end of the sentence it's a "lol" or a smiley face and that mean you pussy
If it's beef, we don't LOL or smiley face
The K clip curl, put it in the middle of a circle and make a smiley face
Suge askin' niggas what they life like, I need answers
I'm strong like Hitman mom when she fightin' cancer
I just in the ring like Ali and get to dancin'
All body shots, cause they hay makers is only effective if you land 'em
Y'all thought I was dead, but ya boy is back
Back in the buildin'!
I was never dead...
Y'all should've checked my coffin: it had scratches on the ceilin'!
Light bars, the fuck is light bars? That mean you write nothin' but filler
No disrespect to Tay Roc...man fuck Tay Roc, I don't give a fuck about these rap nigga's feelings
You battle rap niggas is tooo fuckin' friendly
Do the fans really believe y'all got a grudge? Hardly
You know who fucked battle rap up with all that smilin' and buddy buddy shit? Charlie
But I ain't gon' knock ya drug
What you smoke don't make me high my tolerance level is like Marley
Machine gun, it sound like playin' with the gas throttle on a Harley
I hate these personal angles, it's like y'all out here doin' detective's work
All this rattin' got it lookin' easy, y'all ain't even makin' detectives work
Well I'm on angles too, I spot a scheme and the TEC will squirt
German Shepard with the handle, I start barkin' soon as I detect the work
Why you talkin' greasy? Why you got your chest poked out?
Why you wanna be a gangsta?
All them niggas is dead or in the death row house
You should've been a gardener, your flowers would've been the best ones out
Or a male stripper, pause, you'll show daylight would've been the first one down
Roses, blossoms, fire, Dhalsim
Duct tape, gasoline, douse him
Light a match, he gon' be a burn victim if I allow him
Promethazine, I get rid of that cough like Delsym
Rain, Hell, sleet or snow, I get the doe off
You make it rain, I make it blizzard, I got the broom on ya window like I'm tryin' to take the snow off
Which one of you niggas wanna be a show out? Or be the show off?
If I show out, Smack gonna have to cut the show off


[Round 2: Jerry Wess]
This battle rap shit be funny and I'ma do what I can
The matchups be hella weird and messin' up my plans
Even niggas ask me 'bout battlin' Surf and that's my man
Even Smack wanted me to kill Tay in front of the millions...of the Roc(k) fans
Now is he Gun Titles or nah? Either way it be hella tragic
But you look disloyal behind niggas backs, hella stabbin'
If I put him on my team, one eye open I'm never slackin'
I already know he gonna try and cross him, he telegraphing
I'm here for D.W.I. and a drunk driver
Mr. Bean with gonorrhea, I'm dumb fire
His chick immature, I'll rock her
They say this nigga wild, she pregnant?
I put her head in her stomach, she can talk to her inner child
I'll put you in a hospital just to pull a cord, they all shot
Flatline, the shit sound like I'm buzzin' him out the porn shop
It's levels to this, don't stare 'case (staircase) you duckin' me hella late
I'm in the buildin', still clickin' like, "Where the fuck is the elevator?"
For SM6, I want a bigger name than you, someone vicious
But these vets be actin' like tampons, stuck up bitches
I should've iced him, before he walked in the venue, that was the code word
Or sparks in his face before he get in the ring; Goldberg
A few said this could be classic...it might be Tech
Before check, I planned on zippin' you up, work to Nike, Tech
I'm aimin' for Head & Shoulders, hopin' he wild out
I just got here (hair), I'm already scratchin' the surface; dry scalp
I'ma talk about your career goin' to waste, but I'm still braggin'
Now your strap off the waist like my belt on but I'm still saggin'
These two K's, don't look live when they glitch on you
Put a bomb in ya crib then blow ya spot up like I snitched on you
I put you in Davy Jones locker, yo' hoe can get torched better
They'll find you underwater with your chess (chest) sunk in (sunken) like lost treasure
Doin' it for your mans won't help the team
There's nothin' pickin' up this ugly ratchet, this bitch got low self-esteem
You think niggas is tryin' to come back and battle Tech 9?
As blasphemous as it seems, you number 30 in the Royal Rumble, nobody comin' after you in the ring
Yo, I said this Hulk, rock the crowd like the song stay lit
But this punch silence the crowd...like the bar ain't hit
I iced the hater sayin', "Who Wess?" They stasis? Cryos nigga
They mad I got to the URL hella fast, I got files nigga
You said you would kill me, but you would not
Burning a Klan member, I got the hood hot
Whatchu got won't work, so pardon you
Now it's steel (still) on your grill like burnt barbecue
War wounds in the field nigga, I got my scab
The .9 kickin', soon as I pick it up like-
("You're not my dad")
Listen up, I got the juice now, see your broad, the Glock will peel
Pull a Kendrick, hit ya bitch up (bishop) in an alley when I'm poppin' steel
She callin' you up then I dump it in her back
I take her out The Matrix, she already plugged for runnin' to the jack
Now he back on SMACK, you takin' who's careers?
Nigga you'se James Bond, niggas be playin' you for years
My shooter? Pop an E then (Ethan) Hunt, changin' the game prolly
So if every Mission:Impossible, I'm usin' the same Tommy
This nigga don't move nothin', I know what this lame 'bout
Comin' out the closet the only way he bring the flame out
But this battle, was kinda last minute
Let's be honest, it took about two weeks to get money on this card; direct deposit
But P told me if I raise a (razor) blade, I'd get more plates
Razor blades! More plates!
Razor blades! More plates!
I heard you work security at a mall place
You lookin' fat in your late 30's, why the long face?
Get him the fuck outta here!


[Round 2: Tech 9]
Deaf, dumb and blind, but he will not return to the right path
Deaf, dumb and blind, when you go brain dead from a right jab
You say you got the right plan
We in crisis mode and you wanna name yourself after a white man
The coonery
The foolery
They usin' me
Sharpshooters catch 19 from 60, I know that's somewhere in Wess eulogy
Fuck ya swag, that Burberry and Louie only makes you a punchin' bag
Up ya brand
Manage ya business
How many deeds you hold?
You into brand names, til a bitch bleach ya clothes
Play sharper, if you do (doo) rags you wave (way) smarter
You name chasin', it's all cotton that's owned by the slave farmer
You spend $350 on a Burberry shirt...just to look cool
I put that $350 to my daughter's tuition she gon' cook school
You put $10,000 on a Bentley car note so you fly whippin'
I put that $10,000 on a mortgage, the dinning room got sky vision
Roll the dice, gamble witcha life
Two 2's you gonna see this .4
Gamble witcha life Wess and I'll have you in a box dressed like the casino floor
My girl said I look too gangsta, want me to cut my beard off
She in the crib, rantin' and ravin'
Scratchin' the serial numbers off the .9 the only way I get a clean shavin' (shaven)
You'se a new comer, you still tryin' to catch up to my old numbers
I was in the midwest runnin' through Miles the first Summer
Madness, I'm mad piff
He's flaky; dandruff
Inspectah (Inspector), Deck he get his legs stretched before he pull a Gadget
Ratchet, this ass whoopin' y'all asked it
Tinactin, he's Actin Tough, tough actin'
I'm in Brooklyn all up in your videos, Puff dancin'
The game done changed, too many lames that's why I don't play 'round fleas
The gun come wit' a magazine cartridge, that's unlimited like the playground leagues
Ox him in his throat, oxygen tank, the doc gotta get air to his lungs
PS1 controller, cause you gon' have a cord attached just to play witcha son
Or I can put this knife down, dip, swole your shit
Oh you talkin' burners? Cool
I come through with the .4 too like it's over at six
Take ten paces and spin, I spin that six
He reachin', I shoot his hand and his gun drop through his pants
Gun in his boot, they gon' think he died in Iran
After I shot him...I ran
The fuck am I supposed to do?
Keep ya friends close and your enemies closer
All my enemies unapproachable
They ain't think I would be the one smokin' you
Instead they should've told you never try me fam'
You should be worried when you see me pull up in that sloppy van
And the windows rolled down and I extend ya hand
Ya man runnin'
BAOW! Body bag, your right hand runnin'
BAOW! Body bag, he runnin'
BAOW! Body bag, the coroner gotta put his body bag in a body bag

[Round 3: Jerry Wess] [22:15]
Let's keep it real, I was supposed to battle QP...but his phone died
At first I ain't know it was Qleen, I was writin' for Quantum the whole time
Beasley hit me like, I got a vet for you, he owe me a favor, I'm callin' him right now
I'm thinkin', "Awesome. Rex. Damn Beasley you must be ballin'
Or maybe it's X-Factor. No, Goodz. It don't matter out the four of them."
Beasley said, "Your guess was hella close. Cause this nigga lost to all of 'em."
Now honestly they tried to convince me you not a bum
You scream "body bag" when every other battle...you was comin' outta one
DNA took your slogan so his career had no importance
Then he jumped to UDubb and Bill Collector beat you with no performance
Ars' gave him another shot, I guess he thought you was worthy
He battled O-Solo and guess who lost that one....Jersey
Now you tried your luck on Don't Flop to show the culture you are not done
Got lucky and dodged an impact of a Shotgun
But your last battle here? You got booed
Nigga own up to your fault
His last match he partied with Cortez and woke up in the vault
But now you back on SMACK and it's been so long, nigga
You missed a lot of shit, since you been gone nigga
Like Shine left Dot Mobb for NWX, there's a bunch of them niggas
And Math went about 10 plus battles without snuffin' a nigga
Niggas is teamin' up, 2 on 2's is poppin' now
Both the Ill's are back and Cortez battles droppin' now
Clips is losin' battles, Arsonal retirin', he'll be done by the year
And DNA is still sayin', "Get him the fuck outta here."
But let me guess, you the man in your rap, you got those
You ever had [?] meme you? You ever had a Picasso?
But let me guess, if we went to school together you'd have DDT'd me, right?
Dumb move, I done came back with my brother and put you in a 3D in the lunchroom
Swiss Army or the Butterfly? A nigga back at it
You hear? I said Swiss Army or the Butterfly, a nigga back at it
His face look like an opportunity, I'll take a stab at it
But you here cause you broke, not cause for the culture
You only care 'bout ya pocket like he showed up for Th3 Saga birthday, he only here for the profit (prophet)
I said, I run up on a Tech 9 with a TEC 9...X I ain't gon' give Tech nine
I'll gun but him wit' it, cause wastin' ammo will be a dumb move
Your bullet don't got your name on it, but the gun do
You like to call truce, who gettin' saved witchu?
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, I'll bury the hatchet...in the grave witchu
This ink'll (Inca) be the reason to take your last breath
Cause on my end (Mayan) I always thought you was ass Tech (Aztec)
I mean, he used to run shit 'round here until he got demoted
Computer chip in Lux I'm locked and Loaded
This battle was actually a set up, you got got dummy
Your whole career, George Lopez, you are not funny
This battle does nothing for me
Like even if I murdered duke
Think Smack gon' be like, "Yeah Tech 9 son, let's see what you do with Murda Mook."
Noo!
But ain't this kinda like the body bag you had in the trailer?
This is weird
Cause as y'all can see it ain't me in this motherfucker, it's his career
Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn
Third round I ain't do it yet
Imagine how the crowd'll feel...whatcha life like?
I'll show you again how a Shotgun round will feel
Bangz rebuttled it, but he can't if I swing around the steel
I shit'll click BOOM, the kickback got me in the crowd for real
Now y'all niggas better say it with me
Your return: Body bag
Your career: Body bag
I just crowd surfed and put your body bag in a body bag!
Time nigga!

[Round 3: Tech 9]
So here you go with that dumb ass crowd surfin' shift, you havin' a blast kid
Aye JayBlac, for givin' him that body bag, you gon' get yo' ass kicked
You can't come to Philly nigga
I'ma be nice cause I don't wanna fuck the show up
I just made your wife my WCW, now you flamin'; nitro
This AR will rip through your car, the insurance adjuster will give you a nice quote
Glock 9 this my buddy, where ever he goes, I go
If I ask to see your hands, don't move, don't make me nervous
Or I kill a nigga quicker than 5-0
The gun come with a suitcase, I fold my arms up, the way I fold my arms up
Black Lives Matter well I'ma need everybody to get they arms up
Social media threat, you is the cat that warned us
"Don't get Weezy, disrespect his Baby, I shoot your tour bus."
Be quiet
Use the same words and silent to listen
Pay attention, oh you a tough guy?
Watch the aggressor become the victim
You got homicidal thoughts but your shot a lil' 'flicted
You shoot awkward, I shoot accurate it's a big difference
My girl, she ride wit' me, I got four forwards, twin daughters
Quadruplets, four quarters
These Kim Porters, I raise twin daughters
Faith Heaven, the shot will be Notorious
Even if I beef with my brothers, fuck I look like sidin' with the enemy?
I ain't got an ounce of K-Shine in me
I respect the shooter if the victim gets shot over somethin' serious
Unless you pull a K-Shine and fence jump
Well then you get the Dot nigga, PERIOD
Keep reachin', rip bullets, heat seakin'
Face shot, now he sound like Big T sleepin'
Deep breathin', you kill one of mines I kill three of yours and we even
I let you marinate in ya blood; that's deep seasonin'
I took this battle as an experiment
This shit is hide and seek cause I can't figure out what tier you in
I heard them NWX niggas is lookin' for me
Well tell them niggas, "Here I am."
Lookin' at them jewels I got from that white girl this is slavery
I kill you just for starin' then
Don't make me pull your jacket nigga
The chances of you beatin' me, one in a trillion
64, you got a better chance at a perfect bracket nigga
Put some respect on my name, I don't play with you guys
Bitch niggas turn Charlemagne, "W-w-why you wanna get tough with the radio guy."
I said it already
I did it already
Feds raid my crib lookin' for the murder weapon, I hid it already
My chick custodian, she 35 but she look like she could audition for Nickelodeon
I been ridin' with the same block for 20 years, I got that Kobe vision
Binoculars, rifles, scope extension
Go ahead Aak
Body bag