Ill Will (Battle Rapper) - Tay Roc vs Ill Will lyrics

[Round 1: Tay Roc] I'ma tell you like this, p**y You should've stayed in the Midwest The sh** you're in not a piss test Thorn chnts that I let out the stock, they go in vest Leave him leaking red, now he blue, he ain't switch sets This b**h flex, get chin-checked, or stretched by my index I pull up, then push up on your n***as You'll get your bench pressed The after-school program; I'll get these kids wrecked Like I left on the Caps Locks; that's big TEC's I been stressed, I ain't impressed With none of these new n***as Smack should've told you I don't just give the shots, I shoot through n***as I turn your yearbook pic into a news picture Leave you in a ocean of blood and let your crew ship ya Go ahead, tell me how you'll drop me if my jaw get tapped You like a motorcycle junkyard; you hardly scrap Be all you can be, that'll get your army clapped Everybody get hit with this SIG; it's a party pack I don't f** with y'all f*gs, y'all on a gay team You better slide, I'll hit you for real, I don't play swing I'll clap the 9, leave him absent minded; that's a daydream They'll find this artist underground Or floating on a main-stream Silly old you if you confess to the cops No video shoot, your whole set getting shot Your silly ho too, she get stretched when I pop I'm KFC, I wing the drumstick Leave her thighs and breasts in a box Aye, Will, check out this floor scheme I hope you understand it I'll give your b**h hard wood since you take her for granted Caught that? Your marbles on the floor when I spark that Ridin' with a all black chopper, that's my car pet Carpet, marble, hardwood… them all floors I'm strapped with a 22, one 8, them all 4's Run down on him, I'm like, "Here, they all yours!" Have him tryin' to recoupe from bullets from his car door If I don't off bull, my goons in line at his mom's door Tryin' to get him, like he Concords I'm strapped like Goro, that's what I'm armed for When they find this boy in a box it won't be cardboard Aw, Lord, I give him flashbacks of a while ago If will getting cash, eating, I'ma host him with a Calico Speaking of Calicoe, I'll f** him up after ya I will put Cal in the ER any day on the calendar That sh** I did to Qleen Paper was a ma**acre I will get X boxed; no Soul Calibur Will, I'll scrap with ya If I lose before sunrise I'll have you sleeping in a coffin; Dracula I keep two K's, you're not that live This who I gotta k** to show you n***as Roc top 5? Why not JC? He'd a end up getting popped outside That mac could rain a bullet So when you hear that cha-cha slide! Shout out to my n***a Midwest Miles I look at all y'all, like, "Y'all is Midwest childs." I'll have you wishing you was back in the Midwest now With my arsonal aimed at the only trick in this Midwest crowd Play Superman, I'ma play the Kryptonite I'm Papa Johns; you get a slice when I grip the knife Hey, Smack, get it right, ain't none of these n***as nice If you ain't from the East Coast you ain't winning sh** tonight Simple as that, I gives a f** what this n***a said I will turn a closed casket into this n***a bed Rex told me go back to Maryland with this n***a head I'ma hang it on my wall, y'all know this n***a dead! [Round 1: III Will] How many of y'all feel like I ain't supposed to be on this stage tonight by a show of hands? Well, that's cool ‘Cause I read the comments and I feel the same way Just ‘cause y'all don't want me on this stage tonight That don't mean that y'all gay But dawg… y'all don't want me on this stage tonight?! Man y'all gay! Second thing, I just wanna tell you Tell my n***a right here, this fat f** Don't say sh** while I'm rapping ‘Cause this ain't that kind of sport I'm the type of n***a that we can handle it after the battle And I'll slap him off his mama porch You ain't got no bodies; you signed this contract you dicking yourself saying you a k**er I see y'all still slowing it down, well, speed it up I said, you ain't got no bodies You's contradicting yourself saying you a k**er I told y'all I was on some other sh** Now I'ma show y'all how to smother sh** But I'm getting head in your mother whip She outer space thinking I'm her boyfriend But we only f** in the car; that's the mother ship n***as like you and Shotgun don't say sh** I got a legacy already n***as like you and Shotgun don't say sh** But if you spell it out your leg'll see why This shotgun ain't nothing to play with I'm the same n***a from BET, you see how I spit it to him? Same n***a from BET that said, "f** it!" Then won it, straight drop how I give it to him But them battle rappers, I was just sifting through 'em But now for the dead pres I'm back OD'ing on Smack, like Chris Tucker in the living room Ain't sh** f**ing change Y'all gon' make me say "f** the fame!", and have this n***a looking like Alonzo when the Russians came Nah, that was f**ing lame, and this ain't no f**ing game So if he go for the steal I'll put one round his head And tuck it back in the shirt, like Hot Sauce at a Rucker game I ain't f**ing playin', you from the slums? Nah, you right, you is from the slums slums But you acting like I don't got young guns That'll come leave you slumped some I still got young guns that'll put dum-dums in your tum tum For the bread, they'll put a knot on your head That's a lump sum, done What you gon' do if I come to Baltimore? Like, "f** what y'all say!" You ain't gon' flip no rage or lift no gauge I'ma be in that hallway all day Selling rock around Roc, like a dopeboy in the Flintstone age But if you come to the Yak, you know what they gon' say? You have just entered hell, Roc You can't tell, Roc? You can't adapt to where we dwell, Roc One night and you'll hear "dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah", n***a feeling like he shell-shocked You from the booty-gripping crew That's why I can't stand the b**h You can't even stand to piss, but pick a fight with me b**h I'll swing a cannon fist, damage sh** Big loads knocking down doors when we blammin' sh** Attach that long a** banana clip, when I swing it look like a… b**h, it look like a long a** banana clip! But when that 40 blow, that's what? A rocket when it blast off? No, too slow When that 40 blow that's what Roc get when it blast off [Round 2: Tay Roc] They ask me why I ain't been on UW or King of the Dot Doesn't even matter This is my 9th URL, all my views are in the league that matters End up like Samuel, I'll reach and stab ya Like Method Man on 187; that's how I teach a actor I'm mad I'm battling you for no extra paper You have never been on a URL card so I'm doing the effin' favor You should take caution, or I'll yellow-tape ya To my shooters I make sure Bills get pa**ed, I'll be the legislature I don't respect your gangsta; Swave, you my n***a Why you made him team Homi? You shouldn't let in strangers I'll hit this investigator with a heavy banger Put this cop in a walker if he try to text his ranger I wish you would cross God; no intersection Leave your men in black when I give Will Smith & Wesson's It's ironic how when I raise hell he get sent to Heaven I'm Funk Flex; I'll let this hot 9 give him seven Tay Roc lose to III Will; bad prediction You're from Pontiac and ran into Roc; bad collision You swing on me, get your life taken; that's a given Shots will have your sh** all outside; that's eviction I will get your b**h merked; Mike Vick sh** Chopper the size of Tori Doe, this some slick sh** I will leave his lady red when I grip this Pop the trunk, put you in it, then make your Ms. fit Tell this b**h quit, his money long I get him taped up for that Like, "Open your safe, or you won't wake up for that!" If it's empty, I'ma find where your mother at When this mask scare her I bet she'll make up for that I could get you set up; f**, is you deaf, player? You better walk, man, for the record, I could set player When I black over white blocks, that's a chess player Get him clapped, find him out in Brooklyn, like a Nets player Exchange words? I ain't got sh** to say If we argue, right in the middle of talking you get a K Now spell it out, and you'll see that that sh** was straight ‘Cause if you spell out "talking" in the middle there is a K I see you like rebu*tals, well, try that sh** with me Right in the middle of your rebu*tals you getting T:d Now spell it out, and you'll see that that sh** was mean ‘Cause if you spell out "rebu*tals", in the middle there is a T Rebu*tal that! If we wreck, then it's a wrap JC try and break it up, his little neck is gettin' snapped Cal step in, get him clapped; he'll be Isaiah Thomas Detroit n***a pissed on with 11 in his back If I said it, it's a fact, sh**-talking get you penalized I could tell you soft looking in your tender eyes I be walking with a pump, sawed-off, minimized One round knocking out every round that he memorized n***as die, I don't change sh** when I'm strapped on him Gun bar after gun bar, ‘cause I'm strapped on him When I clap on him it's a wrap for him; since he from Yak-Town I'll have his town pouring out 'Yac for him I said chill, Will, if I don't steal Will, the steel will Headshots, he won't remember a round; I'll Yung III Will I let the crowd choose how you get it, when I k** Will Should I give him a Smith, like Emmitt, or Emmitt Till Will? f** what you call him, I don't find him that iII When I fire at Will, I just fire at will They gon' find his a** k**ed, even though this ain't your hood You could end up in the trunk of a Pontiac still [Round 2: III Will] I'm the illest n***a moving, you get me? I'm rebu*taling that last thing About rebu*taling, so you can hit me I know you're not, so shut the f** up! Everybody wanna battle Lux, like he God or something I don't so, Jesus, after him, you up n***a, you cannot walk in my shoes Nor fit in my jeans; they will have to hem you up I come to the funeral and alter everything on the altar When they reading that hymn, you up n***a, I will hem you up; you ain't feeling me? I will "him" you up, that's Smack, n***a That's just the evil thoughts of a Yak n***a What you gon' do, n***a? Ice my house like an igloo, n***a? But tell the truth, n***a n***as be hating on that line like it was bad, but however That igloo line put this n***a ahead Of every battle rapper, even Lux, he better ‘Cause with that igloo line you said that was so f**ing clever That gave him the biggest Eskimo fan base ever But I'm at his b**h crib though I'm like, "You got a fat a**! Can I hit somethin'? You mind getting that thong ripped And getting some long dick?" She too reached down, palm gripped, said "Aww, sh**!" I said, "b**h, let me hit somethin'." She said, "I can't right now.", I said, "b**h, we is finna f**." She said, "Well, the kids here, and Tay Roc—" I said, "b**h, I don't care if the kids playing or he is pulling up." Five minutes later Daddy was almost Breaking a rib in them guts, he came in, I upped the tool He said "Kids, run!", I mean they did try to rush But that's why I had that Magnum on me ‘Cause it catch kids when I bust Damn, not here, n***a! Not here, n***a! I can't choke, ‘cause I'm not a top tier n***a I said, I'm that new n***a that y'all need to know Flow freezer cold You just another b**h to me; you Keisha Cole If you got that bag and don't pay that ticket You'll be in the ER if you owe 'em, b And if you don't live, then you see more ratchets Y'all think I'm choking? Y'all ain't even peep that I just said he'll be in ER if you O M B; that's Bmore backwards Let me hear you getting them dead presidents I pull up in the Lincoln, that's what the weapon in Run up, bend your men for the settlement And you gon' get your face on the 50, like Jefferson Don't say "Oooh", ‘cause that's his sh** But we gon' talk about his sh** You gon' put his face on the 50, like Jefferson? You f**ed up, ‘cause I'm either some dumb I might be some dumb, but he plum dumb Where in the f** do your money come from?! Aye, but that's cool, ‘cause if that's the case That ain't where the sh** stop ‘Cause I'm feeling like Roc, cashed out when I'm at the mall Or when I play with the b**hes, waving expenses Pockets stay full of Reagan's and Nixon's Oh, you ain't heard? I'm the man on these city streets Me and my n***as went to King Of Diamonds yesterday And made it rain all Kennedy's I'm getting money, n***a, but let me get off that ‘Cause every bag I get, that's another bad b**h to ask for dick Ask your b**h, don't be acting pissed Or you'll get smacked and sh** Or use this target practice when I'm blastin' sh** Let off two, told him to move his shoes Or get socked out his Tru's; that's a fashion tip But the third round was the one that k**ed him That's ironic, that's what we ask from clips Aye, just ‘cause I'm fried Don't mean you can't get your dame boiled ‘Cause soon as I saw Tay, I let it cook So his ho can see I barbecued when that flame broil [Round 3: Tay Roc] You was on national television You didn't get paid and you still not poppin' What has it done for you? You co*ky off them 106 wins? I'ma humble you Whatever you got paid tonight, I'm paid double you I f** up every rapper I come across, that's nothing new I don't f** with you, I make fun of you right in front of you Even though this ain't biological, I'm sonning you You wanna win a battle, well, Roc ain't who you run into Now I'ma put you back In the Proving Ground for a month or two You be talking in codes using that fake Jamaican sound We don't talk in codes on the phone ‘Cause we don't play around I tell my shooter, "Clap any f*ggot you see standing around!" Crucify him, that mean once you cross him Get him hammered down He like, "What if this fat n***a try to run?" I'm like, "Track him down." I guess y'all want me to define that That mean map his town When you see him, pat him down If he smirk, crack his smile, clap him down Leave him on his face; Pacquiao Real life, don't get yours taken, I won't play with you This ain't a movie, you can get your kids taken too One clip, but it holds 30, look like it's takin' two When I grip that lemon squeeze I ain't makin' juice Tay the truth, I came with all bars, I don't joke Besides the fact your moms smoke crack And smell like dope smoke I'm loco, I run up on your b**h while she's solo She's Evelyn; her head gets the bu*t of the ocho I'll f** his b**h and his sister in the same car f** his b**h in the backseat, then I trade off Stroking your sister, then I pull out of that lame broad Your b**h clean my dick with her mouth; I got brain washed This that old Roc, disrespect to your whole block This 4 pop, leave holes in him the size of boat locks Face shots; Botox. k**ing n***as, I won't stop Another Midwest n***a that ran into that road block I'm so hot, you heard you had me you should've called it quits You praying that I choke in my third, but I ain't Charlie Clips Aye, Charlie Clips, could I take it a bit further? How he k** me but I lived to talk about it? Ain't that attempt murder? f** that! Back to you, William must be high on crack From now on I'm disrespecting n***as, f** how you act If your b**h jump in between us while we try and scrap I'ma put baby to sleep when I give that dime a tap How is that? Holla at me, I'ma holla back One on one I'll make this n***a look like Kyla Pratt Please don't make this llama clap; when it pop off I'll put you in the same place I put Rich Dolarz at I'm nice! I'm nice! I'll be that You tryin' to tango? I'll box your head Like Oovoo for the tiny chat All I know is this grimy rap; you swing, I'll bob the cat Once I right him, I left him, like, "I'll be back." As far as my money, don't get in between I find your b**h, take that B head; that's guillotine You scheme in your raps, I really scheme, with extensions that'll take that whole party out like a limousine I keep two quarters on me without a conscience I could do four dimes for these two nickels, but if they find this Here's a penny for your thoughts, give me nonsense That chopper holds a dollar, when I shoot, that's 99 cents [Round 3: III Will] I'm mad right now, so f** it, I'm about to talk sh** What you n***as mad at? ‘Cause I'm the new n***a? Y'all have to go from A to B, B to C, D to E I went from A to E, you think I give a f** where Tay'II be? Just only wanna say one thing I don't wanna hear no "Don Demarco!" Or no "Bang... Bang... Bang...", ‘cause that sh** gay to me But look, you told Shine that he got his swag from Rex And that he was Rex foster child You right, and Murda Mook is his foster mother But if he k**ed you and joined Dot Mob What is he? His foster brother Now, Summer Madness 3 got pushed back But f** it, we made his fall bigger These Dot Mob n***as all dinner Come with the chop at his block, and make it mothaf**in' rain all over the place, like a call center I'm walking up on him, like, "Tay Roc! Why the f** is you nervous? f** is your purpose?" The only benefits you got with Dot Mob Is if I do you bodily harm you under some nurses But if my mans get that call he'll meet, greet, serve you And send you on your way; that's customer service k** you, then off your spouse next I hate you so much I hope a mosquito fly over to Magic Johnson crib, then come to your house next I'll catch Tay on the late night, hood on, brim low I gotta creep silence with that 40, you know, tip toe Soon as I see him I– man, what the f** I gotta do that sh** for? I could walk up to this n***a With no strap, like, "b**h, what they hit for?" He ain't even do nothing on the n***a that beat his moms But I bet he'll hit a b**h though Fifth blow, leave him laying there, like, "That's berserk." See your b**h, grab her purse, run in the room Stab the nurse, blasts disperse Have this b**h a** n***a chest looking like a afterbirth f** that old Roc! Them two n***as four burners, and that stove top This that one 12 blinking in your face; that's that broke clock I know these n***as looking like "Aight, III Will, you could tell he a threat, he ready for vets." Nah, I'm already ahead of the rest So f** a vest, protect your head and your neck I'm tissing on all these top tier b**hes And waiting on the outcome; that's a pregnancy test Left him a mess, Tay, we can box if you want Get socked if you jump MAC in the car, but not in the trunk co*king the pump, it's like I'm a virgin on a murder spree I could k** this b**h and not give a f** I let that snub nose touch Roc I'm the director of a rehabilitation center; f** Roc! I'm silent granite, he pomegranate, I co*k it, blam it It look like rocket damage when Roc get damaged But dawg, you from the booty-gripping crew Now look, I know it just sound Like I'm chastising and scolding and sh** But maybe these words will mold you and sh** h*mos**uality in your faculty is noticed and sh** n***as grab on your booty when you flowin' and sh** What if you spit a hot three rounds? K Shine gon' come grab your scrotum and sh** What if you in the studio and spit a hot track? They gon probably—dawg, y'all see where I'm going with this? But f** it, if y'all get money, why would I ruin that sh**? But at least we all know now what y'all do for that sh** I'm a Team Homi ‘cause every real n***a know me I'm a Team Homi n***a because I'm good when I'm OT I'm a Team Homi n***a because I'm everywhere hood be Ayo, Aye Verb, I'm a Team Homi n***a Because your mama said I could be I got that Glock in the right, push his wig left Bullets Catholic Priests; touch his kid next I'm tryin' to smoke, empty his guts, split his mid sect I remind Tay of Aye Verb mother Toughest n***a in the Midwest This n***a Math Hoffa said I stole his Jamaican sh**, y'all So out of every battle rapper That's the n***a I'ma steal from? What the f** is the reason? Besides, he stole Bonnie from me So if anything, motherf**er, we even Did Tsu Surf pull an AR off his hip? Tell me that it's not so Tell Hitman to stop shooting empty shells, pronto! And if Hollow wanna be Hollow he can get a hollow, blindfold I don't care if I get high or low Straight up I made this sh**, ain't nobody gave me sh** n***as talking about they paved the way for me n***a, pave this dick, Yak-Town in this b**h, man…