calicoe vs bigg k - rare breed entertainment lyrics
[round 1: calicoe]
he tried to blend in with the crowd when i c-cked my shit
you’se a motherf-ckin’ white boy you can not be missed
they said, “we got bigg k for a couple k’s”
how long i gotta write for this wigger? a couple days
a nigga really plugged if he- aye
that’s where you stay?
well i got k!llers that’ll get you out by yo’ way
meet you in yo’ do’ way
another white b-tch gettin’ shredded, think i’m oj
a bunch of battle rap b-tches tweetin’ these niggas so g-y
but peep the script, there’s a couple of things i’ma leave you wit’, a seasoned vet’
take notes this battle and you and you can be the best
was wonderin’ how i was gonna approach this battle cause i don’t see a threat
no limit to the bars i’ma give him, see (c) murder when i step
he lookin’ like a fiend in this ring cause see a check
didn’t even know which one we was gettin’ it was either me or (mia) x
flow like silkk, watch me shock him, i’m tryin’ to be the best
they soldier (soulja) lookin’ slim in the ring, look at him, he a mess
catastrophe, i ain’t ask for him, b-tch you asked for me
oh i get it, it’s reverse slavery, so in this battle i’ma be the master p
trigger finger itchin’, my index done had a rash for weeks
they say, “bigg k”, i say, “lil’ k?”
they said, “bigg k”, i said, “lil’ k?”
whatever they call him, just send his -ss to me
and give him that thousand dollars, that make me feel better when i’m leavin’
i love to see white slaves, it make me feel like shit is even
why y’all lookin’ at me? like i’m just k!llin’ him for no reason
slow it down, i just dissed you
so why he over there lookin’ like his people just be k!llin’ us for no reason
why y’all come f-ckin’ wit’ me
seein’ what i just did to william, now he gets some company
cause nigga i’m ’bout to k!ll you
come out this f-ckin’ disguise, we wanna know the real you
the white boy kenneth in the house on the hill you
let me catch you lurkin’ in the field, i will drill you
you look like you’ve been on the south beach diet, well let’s see what them .9 mils (meals) do
seek and destroy to fill you, with hollow tips or balled up fists
his jaw gon’ look like it ate a [?]
my shooters spray, and unapologetic for any beef that end in grief
stay with the dead niggas shareef
a 100 round chopper will get the head nigga impeached
just for runnin’ his mouth they gon’ find him dead in the street
that baby drako lay on my leg to my feet
what bigg k gon’ do when baby bro wanna compete?
i never thought you was elite
this rbe plan they tryin’ to trick me off the street
you arp mans, lost 100 pounds in a week
what? you one of r. kelly’s hoes my nigga? he won’t let you eat?
you done got off mo’ pounds than me
mo’ pounds than t and meek
mo’ pounds than g
mo’ kilo’s than luther
watch you really fade away when i shoot ya
grab the ruger and wake you out yo’ sleep the freddy krueger
what? i’m supposed to believe you ruthless and you shooter when you and your mans walked in here lookin’ like the stooges
i hit larry they call moe they curl him (curly) that’s a designed hit
lawrence hit p, p hit me cause i’m the only way they can find this
these niggas not even in my conference
their fans don’t even understand my content
i gotta dumb it down so ask bigg k fans what’s gon’ happen and front him pounds and he stop comin’ ’round
i’ma have my virginia k!llers hunt him down
y’all know commercial, it’s my money and i want it now
tell his fans to relate to that
we gon’ state the facts or take it to where ever they want to take it at
you can die tonight, take that for whatever you wanna take it as
i’m tryin’ to change the whole culture of my city nigga, you ain’t got faith in that
at the same time i’m tryin’ to raise a bad -ss two year old i can’t even take a nap
the white boy done ran into an ape attack
banana clips equipped, the chop can’t slip cause it came with straps
how did you ever even feel you can win? this a body
and when he get to heaven, boom i’ll k!ll you again, b-tch
[round 1: bigg k]
let’s make it a judged battle, get excitin’ for the fans
but skip the judges score cards, i’ll hold a .9 up in my hands
that’ll lift him off his feet, then i’m linin’ up his mans
they was yellin’ “landslide” now they slidin’ when they land
blam!
i spit a round, this can’ will split a crown
cause king think he a stand up man, i sit him down
no talkin’, i let it ring, click and blaow
workin’ out wit’ a machine, i’m not givin’ an lip to cal’ (elliptical)
how you tough and moody?
you a f-ckin’ goofy
i’m waitin’ for you to flip, that’s why i’m back tuckin’ toolies
guns from outta state, crush ya kufi
that new pa tec on my wrist? nah turn up the uzi
all these cowards talk slick, well do somethin’ to me
i’ll pull somethin’ retarded off the bench, i ain’t subbin’ rudy
y’all suckas; fruity
we thuggin’; truly
predators that prey (pray) up to five times a day and ain’t muslim; sumi
get rocked on, the gun metal, it drop bombs
i’ll funk flex you, still hold it down with these hands but i don’t thumb wrestle
my knife work, make his eye squirt, burst blood vessel
two slices, a buck 50, he caught the lunch special
come stretch you, i’m throwin’ razors to your faces
if it skin the black off him, does it label me a racist?
i’m stranded in the dope spot, where the cater’s in the basement
but i’m still tryin’ to shoot the one, like agents in the matrix
face it, you basic, fam’ nothin’ new
smack made them -ss raps pop, this man uncle luke
get hit, if ya wit’ ya clique, i’ma rush the group
when i pull this, all you gon’ dip, that’s french onion soup
shoot, revolver with a speed loader on a sports bike
you get six silver bullets, it ain’t coors light
i titty f-ck ya baby moms and put it on a porn site
that b-tch chest gave me wood like fortnite
[calicoe]
i play madden. i play madden
[bigg k]
metal gear sucks. fortnite’s way better
your life ain’t worth ten thousand
i send the word they harm you
the code word was “gopro” that means there’s 4k on you
they want me talkin’ spicy for that cheese, i’ll whip a verde fondue
just know that once i get to cookin’ all this gore may (gourmet) haunts you
let’s go
[round 2: calicoe]
let me vent to y’all
do y’all know how hard it is to prepare for a person you feel can’t do no damage to you?
like you ain’t sleepin’ on him, you know he got a couple bars but he’s still average to you
i’m p-ssin’ through him
the question is, why would i even drop my status to him?
when the leagues put bread on a corn head i bring they cabbage to ’em
i can talk about yo’ drug addiction like all night
you either sniffin’ blues, moons, or hard white
nigga hit me like, “cal’ you ready?” like this gon’ be a dog fight
this nigga got a bunch of bars about loaded lux and dog fights
all my bars about that chopper and how i’m aimin’ at y’all sight
white boy couldn’t box wit’ me if i agreed to all rights
white boy couldn’t box wit’ me if i agreed to not shoot him
white boy couldn’t box wit’ me if he was homeless and i had room
the street sweeper will clean this whole room
my youngin’ grabbed that chopper out the closet like it’s the broom
you don’t even know what you talkin’ you just -ssume
this what y’all like?
a hillbilly but tryin’ to be a goon?
that’s why your people don’t f-ck wit’ us
they can’t stomach the fact they kids wanna look up to us
look at you wigger
you think your people did all this hard work stealin’ the land from the natural builders for you to snatch our image?
this can not be y’all gimmick
i got the mind of a nazi dog trippin’ and you can fall victim
and this just all business
they got him involved in the, worst situation to all limits
cause bein’ the best white rapper is like bein’ a tall midget
this was a pat stay, iron solomon conversation and some kinda way you just crawled in it
but least them white boys is authentic
your style is scripted and all rented
they both been on summer madness, how come they never called kenneth?
b-tch i’m sav’, i’m in the field with no pads like michael bennett
i used to have that rusty .22 runnin’ through blocks like i’m emmitt
are we talkin’ football, but i don’t need a team nigga, i mean wigger
i’ll pull up on his block with nobody, just me and a mean smith &
don’t get me wrong, bro at the corner
see y’all don’t even get where i’m goin’ i scheme different
what i’m sayin’ is, it only take one arm to get him picked off shaquem griffin
and he won’t even see the hawks (seahawks)
i’ll pull up on ya block playin’ ‘jesus walks’
walk up on his mama porch like, “b-tch we need to talk!
if you don’t scream, i promise to not get the kids involved.”
the goal is for them to grow up and never forget what we did to y’all
that boss talk gon’ get a wigger offed
i send my bottom b-tch to get him she [?] lara croft
he think it’s a game, until his crib hit with a molotov, it go up in flames
the chopper hittin’ whoever runnin’ out
they find his body burned up with holes in him, don’t know what happened to him
all they know is my last tweet say, “he shouldn’t have been actin’ like he knew me.”
why the nigga act like i’m just rappin’ only?
i’ll do this cracker greasy- i mean i’ll do this wigger greasy for cheese, mama macaroni
i see these battle niggas out and remain me
i don’t give a f-ck if they actin’ phony
pop him like a pill when he lonely
how did you ever feel you can win?
this a body and when he get to heaven, mook gon’ k!ll you again
b-tch
landslide
[round 2: bigg k]
he said, he was gon’ beat me with all lefts
yo’ b-tch -ss ain’t gon’ k!ll nothin’
you gon’ get hit wit’ a 2×4 like jim duggan
i’ve been out here a long time and i’m still thuggin’
you trippin’, i got it on me like i spilled somethin’
how you broke? but ya partner is the brick man?
i got a long -ss chopper wit’ a kickstand
i’m from the project bench there they dish tan
was rockin’ in the pj’s like a gym jam
i had the city on smash, few hitman
who tryin’ to 50 yard dash through quicksand?
with nike gloves and taped up wristbands
fill it with flame and let it rain ’til the clip jam
you nothin’ to the king but a bowl of grapes
you done booked a one way to the holy gates
next time you talk to god tell him to hold a place
cause i’ma leave ya open face before an open case
and the concrete crumblin’ when i’m plowin’ through
and the experience humblin’ seein’ how i do
cause when my stomach is touchin’ i’m makin’ power moves
i grind harder than rumblin’ wearin’ shower shoes
i know you seen k, it’s footage all ’round
and you can run and tell the dj to put him on now
i’ve been the nicest in va from pusha on down
i’m ’bout two 16’s from push y’all ’round
yeah i run the gutter gutter, bang bang muhf-cka
.50 out the back of the strap crackin’ a hummer b-mper
they sent my man up north for a couple summers
he got it jumpin’ on the island, you gulla gulla
but while he in that max prison i’ma send somethin’
cause i ain’t wit’ this -ss kissin’ and the d-ck suckin’
the frontin’ like they pack pitchin’ and they been thuggin’
these clowns still sack pitchin’ out a mid onion
i get mail, off of rap for the have not and fish tail
in the ac’, through the back block
a big bail, full of [?] for a fat knot
from fish scale in the trap like a crab pot
just flew from the coast, stayin’ for weeks, writin’ all that musical dope
that pain on the beat, now i’m tyin’ off a noose at ya throat
we playin’ for keeps, doin’ the most and sayin’ the least
i let it bang, f-ck who they knew
tell my shooter to get the target and the roommate too
i’m bigg k from wednesday to tuesday through
f-ckin’ up battle rap ’til i drop doomsday 2
go ‘head bwoy
[round 3: calicoe]
y’all really don’t know how hard it is, to prepare for a person you feel can’t do no damage
i mean the first round always easy cause i’m just naturally a savage
the second round start gettin’ so frustratin’ and i almost stopped at 2:30
the third i’m battlin’ myself cause the first i already felt i did you dirty
i’ma keep it 100
you was never a person i was enthused to 30
but it’s black history month, so i gotta get him outta here quick with no worries
i’m glad this ain’t black on black
i ain’t even notice you at volume 3
i seen it was him i said, “yup he back on smack.”
look at him, he look like he been hittin’ the pack on smack
they called him for t-top he said, “red top/blue top” he thinkin’ they givin’ away crack on smack
i never felt like you was a racist so why would i act on that?
i just called a spade a spade bro
you wish you was black so i got $100 i could f-ck yo’ b-tch nigga
another $1,000 my d-ck bigger
why would i ever be afraid of this wigger?
when i know a chinese k with a knife on his end that’ll leave him dismembered
they’ll find his body parts everywhere, i’ll have to [?] him
i’ll send his fingers in the mail to his family, i money mitch niggas
you look like you got down syndrome with a sick feelin’
it’s bad enough i gotta deal with these battle niggas that go against the throne
now we gotta deal with successful black men that’s goin’ against they own?
so i challenge floyd mayweather b-tch -ss to a boxin’ match
but i came here prepared to lose that’s why i got the gat
all he gon’ hear is “p-p-pat” soon as i hit the mat
i ain’t speakin’ on his ex best friend when i say, ‘get the strap’
i feel like a f-ckin’ python in a rat race
sellin’ out all these packed shows, performin’ in front of a packed place
boy i got a free agent that’ll clear all of his cap space
ain’t shit gucci ’bout me bein’ masked up with black face
i got a free agent that’ll clear all of his cap space
ain’t shit gucci ’bout- you got the soulja boy headband on you lame -ss nigga
wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait
how did you feel comfortable wearin’ this f-ckin’ headband?
that’s how i know your mans a-
[bigg k’s entourage]
i got money! cause i got money! f-ck is you talkin’ ’bout? f-ck all that. i got money!
[calicoe]
y’all know what rhyme wit’ “lamest nigga in the room?”
(what?)
c–n!
i’ma send them they ain’t gon’ argue witchu
no b-tch niggas you roll wit’ is not official
aye, them niggas you roll wit’ is not official
soon as i see my-
the label signin’ me they want my initials
aye, put him in the grave that’s when the streets get you
how him all on the ‘gram like, “he was just witchu.”
soon as they seen my chain they just dismissed you
bigg kenneth a lame and he fictitious
most these niggas [?] it’s big business
that pack too loud, watch me dumb it down with the [?]
i’m overseas shootin’ 3’s, i feel like reggie miller
that hatin’ shit is a disease, i might as well k!ll you
aye, signin’ niggas to my label, that’s how we gon’ deal you
before i let you leech off us i might as well bill you
all this black own drip on us, i feel like we the real ones
i bought ten hoodies and done looked out for some people’s children
run up a hundred and they come take it just like we the pilgrims
b-tch i look up to rock bottom cause i ain’t never seen em’
these industry niggas strayin’ away cause they ain’t never seen this
you fear what you can’t understand, they know i really mean this
i’m by myself cause shit ain’t promised, they can sink the boat whenever
you don’t even know if he your mans if y’all still broke together
they had me sheddin’ tears for boom when i wrote this letter
if i knew i had to lose my dog i’d rather be broke forever
mook comin’ to me in my dreams sayin’, “keep yo’ head up.”
i started with nothin’ with my team, baby we can’t let up
how did you ever even feel you could win?
this a body and when you get to heaven, will gon’ k!ll you again
b-tch
landslide
after a nigga battle me, i make him feel wack
cause it’s a difference between metaphors and real raps
landslide nigga!
[round 3: bigg k]
you told ill will you was gon’ “wack his baby”
now they can’t call no truce to that
and y’all cool wit’ that
the fans boostin’ that
he’s sprayin’ out the window with no aim, that shit’s stupid jack
i walk up bare face and hit what i’m shootin’ at
this ruger clap, push ya whole medulla back
boo this cat, walk off [?] the strap
get the rifle with the red dot, i can knock a puma flat
i put the laser on his skin like he tryin’ to remove a tat’
i’m through wit’ rap, cause y’all don’t play the game by the manual
y’all respect a lame that went to jail for fightin’ animals
that’s some coward shit, part of the reason i don’t like this loser
now it’s talons flyin’ over that chicken since you fightin’ roosters
stick a knife into ya, swipe/swipe maneuver
try to run get walked down, i’m michael meyers to ya
the .40 got him outside sweatin’ like an icey cooler
i lick a shot, you melt over ya rocks, but i don’t like kahlua
you d-ck chewer, this tre pound a big ruger
photographer in toronto, the six shooter
i took penitentiary chance after chance just to get moola
you was havin’ underground chicken fights, watchin’ out for intruders
i should slide into him, push the .9 and boom him
teach you the difference between animal instinct and violent human
all i need is a deuce deuce, i’ll leave his life in ruins
i could make him eat a .357 but it’s time consumin’
we movin’, if i feel a vibe i’m sleepin’ him
toss the heckler in the crowd like a fightin’ comedian
i balance the high and low, livin’ life at the median
feds sweep, i survive more stings than coyote peterson
it’s deeper than what they on, i’m sleepin’ with the thang on
kick when it fire, up in the streets i think i’m fei long
my man just caught a dub, had to eat it but he stayed calm
the jake popped up outta nowhere and put my peoples on the state farm
i hate y’all
they don’t live like we live
before you was 21, i done did ’bout three bids
when bro died, that shit hurt, but the same night we slid
and only took an l cause the police got him before we did
but f-ck that, i ain’t lettin’ shit slide
i’ll go to jail on purpose, just to catch him on the inside
i’m royalty, big vibes, everything it implies
dessy rings the inside everything exist dies
so f-ck that, if y’all ain’t think i won 2-1 you can k!ll that thought
if you ridin’ wit’ him or co-sign him than you still at fault
f-ck you and every d-ck sucka yo’ b-tch -ss brought
y’all reppin’ shoebox money, this that big bad talk
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