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ibattletv - bangz vs chef trez lyrics
[round 1: chef trez]
they tell me chef bangz fire, so i won’t play with this b-tch
but for a few years, i’ve been getting tweets every single day for this sh-t
i reb-ttal, you reb-ttal, top five, we both making the list
but let’s add more reb-ttalists to the battle. here go the clips (clips) boaw! now dna in the mix!
let’s switch it up. this his return? give him love, i’ll give him slugs
bangz red when it blew (blue) in his face, n-gga, you crip or blood?
you set trippin’, but you bet i hope yo’ set reckless. catch weapons
sub nine, only way this techs (text) miss you is if yo’ ex stressin’
speakin’ of b-tches, yours can learn this death lesson
i’ll body him, then -ssault bae (salt bae), who think this chef flexin’?
i say change plans, or get yo’ sh-t popped when i change cans
in front of the camera, bangz all over the footage, ganglands
say fam, when it was time to work for real, you tried to change plans
in the rights you got knocked off, ’cause you couldn’t make your name brand!
he’s crazy, he ain’t been f-ckin’ wit’ the leagues lately. been talkin’ bout he gon’ leave lately
for all that retirement homes, i’mma put you next to .380s
or it’s the 9 dumpin’, when it go off, n-ggas die from it
sh-t knock him out his shirt and shoes. just bangz outside the clothes. dry humpin’!
you don’t want the trouble. i could let something rusty cut you
oh, you want the fifth, bangz, or the fist, bangz (fist bangs)? bl–dy knuckles!
see, my rap got higher. i beat grace in the field, but can bro survive?
you in my court, and since the goal is bangz, i know i’m ‘posed to rise (posterize)
literally, you from ct, my name ct, stick wit’ me
so what took so long to book this match? it should’ve been locked in initially!
watch who you play with, that reminisce back in the day sh-t was some great sh-t
but you own’t shine in this battle with those lines
’cause with this old nine, i’ll aim at his basket, hit his rim ‘n this (reminisce) gon’ be for the old times!
i bury guys is true, i air a nine at you
bullets ain’t got no names, but i hear bangs (bangz) every time it shoot!
i’ma trash this n-gga, i’m thinkin’ like “should i stab this n-gga?
or since i play basketball, just give up a shot like bad defender?”
i’m askin’ n-ggas “who booked this? you gon’ get him boxed
i’ve been on the road, lex, (rolex) and this time, ain’t nothin’ different, watch!
who can’t f-ck with ya’? i don’t mean to trouble ya’
but this ratchet’ll help you rest in peace, she a cuddler!
you freestyle? f-ck if you do, but i’ll have trust in ya’
i’ll put you next to clips (clips) with hollows (hollow) like i’m rankin’ reb-ttalists!
but nah, why come to ibattle and let a .380 clap? when a chopper bangin’ off the chain, i’m bringin’ hazey back!
[round 1: bangz]
i’m comin’ back for ibattle, so me retirin’, you probably can’t say it’s facts
but i’ll take this match because…you know what, f-ck it, right now since we supposed to be reb-ttalin’
i’mma play it back. ’cause real rap, n-gga, it’s a m-th-f-ckin’ wrap for you, so you about to get this f-ggot in a round
n-gga, i’m really bringin’ hazey back!
n-gga, this bangz vs. chef trez, which means you had to battle me in order for you to fully get respect, trez
so more or less, trez
you had to battle a n-gga like bangz in order to fully get respected, trez
n-gga at mothaf-ckin’ resolution you told the n-gga suge “f-ck a shotgun, ’cause you ridin’ around with them choppas on yo’ lap.”
respect, trez
but this shotgun got his mothaf-ckin’ name on it
ch, eff trez! (chef trez), baow!
n-gga, i really slang techs, so if bl your vision (blurry vision), you’re losing focus
ya’ll already knew i’m potent, that’s why ya’ll n-ggas can’t believe half the lines that these dudes be quotin’
let me guess, you hustler of the mothaf-ckin’ year, right? and got two bandos that you move the dope pen?
oh, you be trappin’? right (write) out both of them pads?
chk chk, duly (dually) noted!
i’m on his mothaf-ckin’ -ss, these dudes be bogus. you are from atlanta, n-gga, you are not a foe’ tucka’, you’s a toe toucha’
pure sucka’, seattle supersonics, i got that old thunder (thunder)!
and it’ll raise this b-tch up like yo’ motha’!
n-gga, the blade on me, bro, i’m really cutthroat, guess who i’m stabbin’ next?
blade on me, i’m really cu-,n-gga, guess who i’m stabbin’ necks!
n-gga, you can flow till yo’ face is blue and you can rap to death ’bout how you stackin’ checks?
sh-t, even tyler the creator got another freestyle out
but don’t n0body wanna see this f-ggot flex (funk flex)
i’m on his -ss, so, n-gga, soon as we tend to me (tender meat), it’ll be fallin’ off the bone-
i’ma talk that tender sh-t ’cause i might shoot his b-tch face
soon as you roll up, stupid, you just gon’ have to own up to it ’cause that was yo’ mistake (steak)
n-gga, you sleep on me and get waked, got somethin’ grown for his age, i got a big eight
and this nine flexible, n-gga, i been (bend) straight!
charley wingate, ’cause n-gga i’m releasin’ the macs with bars
i’ve been battle rappin’ and received way more battle scars
but i’m still lettin’ ‘matics off, so you ‘posed (post) to get work: snagajob!
-inaudable- like avatar!
as for ya’ll, f-ck who you brought to rumble
n-gga, we all could scuffle, ya’ll in trouble
n-gga, watch me make the tallest crumble
when you is who i hand dis ‘ease (hand disease) like carpal tunnel!
give this mothaf-cka’ a face shot, closed casket, only ya’ mama love you, n-gga, that’s facts!
i’m buildin’ up, and i might appear a mid (pyramid) like abstract!
but i’m really top tier, raise it to his mothaf-ckin’ head, i’ll make his top tear
then he’ll get popped up out of nowhere like how you got here!
[round 2: chef trez]
yo, you fire, my n-gga, but everything you sayin’ is dead now
i mean, ya’ sh-t cammo but with a head shot, it be red now
i catch this n-gga tryna’ flee the scene, i’m like “where the f-ck you going?” baow! fire the lead now
shots hit his knee, he be fatigued from the legs down!
i said, that tough act you put on, bangz, i can’t stand at all
you r3, what that stand for? i’m not a fan of ya’ll
but you n-ggas tough, sell work and let hammers off?
no games, but control ya’ self, ’cause i’ll press r3 like the -n-log!
this my matrix gun, this sh-t be jammin’ a little bit with me
but i do know the b-tch good for one like trinity
stick with me, ain’t no k!llin’ my energy
i’ll put yo’ body on this gun first, this sh-t be stealin’ ident-ties!
get done tragic, he front linin’ ’till i’m sprayin’ mac rounds
he squeeze, chief keef, just bangz (bangs) in the background!
clutchin’ steel, even ya’ b-tch can get f-ckin’ k!lled
hollows, i’m just tryna’ put the tip in, i ain’t tryna f-ck for real!
cl!ck, bang a tuck. since bangz ain’t duck, is he dead? yes
nah, gunb-tt till’ the man flex
pistol whip bangz head into the can, rednecks!
this weapon i’m grippin’? insane, stupid
i don’t know the n-gga like that, but when the thing shootin’
it’ll take whoever bangz off the block, gang unit!
f-ck bangz, a savage, you not one. a opp, you never shot none
you never had to pick up sh-lls after the shots done, or have bodies on the hammer that you got, bum
when this bum get bodied when bangz on the barrel, it’s not a prop gun!
don’t make no noise, f-ckin’ wait. ’cause while this brotha’ hate
i’ll catch him chillin’, trippin’
you know i said that sh-t against jc how i tuck the k?
he gon’ see that sh-t when i hit his motha’ way
baow!
next b-tch on yo’ shirt, gon’ be his motha’ face!
and on my momma, n-gga, you don’t wanna fight for nothin’
we in the streets, you got on adidas, n-gga, you don’t get stripes for runnin’!
[round 2: bangz]
ya’ll already know the second that i light i’m dumpin’
n-ggas talkin’ all crazy like they can go against bangz but can’t fight for nothin’
you right, i’m bluffin’
sike!
but this n-gga could see no (casino) wins, so guess what?
he’ll get hit with these, and little n-gga, i don’t gotta write for nothin’!
n-gga, that was crack. and honestly, i feel like this is way more than he deserves
’cause this ain’t bangz vs. chef, this is a n-gga that smack pushed like a vet, but gotta battle me to get respect, doesn’t that seem absurd?
and here we are being friendly in ibattle giving this n-gga chef a plate
but i’m here to make him eat his words!
i’mma take a sip, i’ll probably lace ya’ b-tch and ya’ sister and make ’em clap each other
then after i sauce ya’ pops, i’m going back to mother
then i’m putting hands on this n-gga little bro face, like beasely
basically smack (smack) ya’ brother!
so, this is definitely a disgrace, little n-gga get left with no trace
i’m about to clock him like big ben, n-gga, the glock in, i whip him
n-gga, the clip stuck in this kid chin (kitchen), i’m about to put chef in his place!
you see how that happened, little n-gga ain’t even know how to act now
don’t even need to rap now, i’ll clap now, you gon’ hear the shots
then this’ll reb-ttal for the background!
i’ll leave a f-ggot holey, little n-gga, i got the ratchet on me
and i know this is a old school fl!ck but i got the old school grip
and i’ll put chef in a can like ravioli!
so this sh-t is more than practice, see, that was a set up, n-gga, ’cause i’m just hectic
i’m just reckless…what, you thought i was f-ckin’ up? alright, that was contraceptive
’cause to give you real love, n-gga, you gon’ see the acdc when i put it to your shirt, n-gga, ’cause i’m connected!
n-gga, you leavin’ earth, f-ckin’ with bangz, you gon’ see the dirt
talkin’ bout freestyle, well i even flagged the n-gga behind you
a shot to his chest’ll really make him leave (leaf) his shirt!
n-gga, i’m talkin’ with bangz, so really this ain’t even at him
n-gga, the trees on his shirt was just a metaphor to let you know you can’t get a leg up on the compet-tion, so you gon’ leave out on a limb!
there’s no need to clap again, if i clap at him, then they really gon’ flag this footage
he won’t have another reason to flag again!
[round 3: chef trez]
i said, why you was at brodie like that? i’ma be g with you, he ain’t even my homie like that
but you said that was yo’ man’s, cor? but since i f-ck with that guy, and he behind you
this raccoon ain’t gon’ be the only thing with a black eye!
n-gga, you f-ckin’ weak! you can’t f-ck with me, n-gga, buck the heat
i’ll clutch and squeeze, n-gga, from the waist if you snoop (snoop), you’ll be red on top when i buck it, dog (dogg), from underneath!
and you the coolest n-gga. you wearin’ all white already, and you style, and even gotta shoot this n-gga!
you lookin’ at him like he wasn’t just ridin’ you while you was rappin, right? straight facts!
that’s ya’ mans? wit’ a back of that k off that durag and it be a wave cap!
but lex want you dead sendin’ this calibre of guys at you
don’t look like that, leavin’ this league, you might have to
unless you ready to die for this sh-t, ’cause if i’m at you
i ain’t with the muggin’ f-ck a staring contest, in real life, you could die over those eye battles!
bangz, you couldn’t f-ck with my shadow, let it be, i was in them streets
but my lack of expression got the best of me, anger was bottled up
hot on the inside, texas pete!
it made me a k!ller, put more numbers on that poll that election week!
i was lost, walkin’ through h-ll, you ever been through fire?
you ever try to figure out how they identify ya’ with a head shot, but with a head shot, they won’t identify ya’?
this n-gga lyin’, what you runnin’? get ya’ leg snapped
lead clap! like rewarding ya’ dog, you’ll see a biscuit and a head tap!
better move now, big sh-t in a room out
ya’ b-tch pregnant, baow!, peroxide, i’ll clear the wound (womb) out!
get ya’ sh-t rocked, body popped
soul food, i’ll hit the rib spot!
switch arms, send shots
clip hold 30, but 28 got him bad, he ziplocked!
first i pull, then everything fall apart: slipknot!
clip drop, fifth hot!
but i beat ’em with it, then reload
i got fifty in a box, speedin’ limit!
squeezin’ wit’ it! big gun, got ’em leanin’ wit it!
he got money? leave ’em wit it
so they’ll still see bangz with his cash, he could keep his image!
you in the trap bangz? that’s a f-ckin’ lie
all that made up sh-t make me wanna spazz on a guy
i was takin’ trips, gabbin’ p’s, time movin’ fast on the ride
i built an empire, i never sleep, that’s why so many bags under i (eye)
i’m back for real, so relax and start actin’ chill
thirty, mac 11, get the klay and steph package deal
but if shootin’ ain’t what you feel, get smacked wit’ steel
ti’ll it break, me and jc won’t be the only time i crack the ‘mil
let’s turn it up, i’m with whatever, i hope you all fighters
any of ya’ dogs by ya’ get they jaws wired
it’s like five plus you? ya’ll all dyin’!
i never sleep, i up nine to six, i’m pullin’ an all-nighter!
quit the plottin’, ’cause i’m grippin’ glocks and equipped with stock sh-t
catch ’em tryna’ enter his house, my k!llers rob him, get the profit, then split after we split his noggin’
left bangz (bangs) at the door, but they don’t know who did it:
we n-gga knockin’!
[round 3: bangz]
i left all these rounds open to freestyle so ya’ll n-ggas could really see the tightest
he a writer, but i don’t think when it come down to the nitty gritty, he a fighter
i forgot the punch i was ’bout to reb-ttal
but i already know he get x’d
so when i’m sendin’ these techs, n-gga, these caps lock
these b-tches tiger
i’m ’boutta school this n-gga chef, and that’s word to me
give bangz a lotta clips, and i’ll be the first to squeeze
so if you f-ckin’ screw ya’ face up to any degree, n-gga
somebody gon’ have to doctor it (doctorate) while the -ssociates get the first degree!
i’ll push on him, and i don’t even like the b-tton
i’ll throw the bullet back and i ain’t tryna’ hype for nothin’
so if chef come in here and try and get cooked, then he’ll get layed off, and it ain’t even in my discussion
n-gga, there’s repercussions to everything that you gotta do, little -ss n-gga, you better know that i follow dude
and i will follow you
yeah, we on, 1994? i’ll clap his neck the same year that he was born!
this n-gga’ll go back to nothin’, swear to god, you’ll have a broke head
with a little twist like yo’ dreads
but see how i set him up with the mothaf-ckin’ punchline? so let him fly
cause soon as they zone in, i’ll tie-
nah, little n-gga, you gon’ really dread this the second i let em’ drop!
when i said he gon’ dread this, he gon’ cry from it
the n-gga really tied his sh-t up to give him a tip: you gon’ die (dye) from it!
this not a act now, ya’ll know that i freestyle and i’m crack now
’cause now the n-gga took the tie out, i just set him up to let ’em back down!
i’m lettin’ it blow, ya’ll know them reality sh-ts that be on tv but i don’t even know how we got chef on the show
i’m just lettin’ it blow, and i’m still flippin’ the last punchline when he took his tie out, he gon’ dread it when i’m lettin’ it go
little -ss n-gga, i ain’t even teach you that, you gon’ get the real hammer soon as you reach for that
i can’t even get rid of the evidence, so i’m going back for the tips, there’s no bleach for that
what’s wrong with me? i’m showin’ n-ggas is frauds now, little -ss n-gga get hogged down
he flipped my boys shirt, but in reality, the second that you snoop (snoop), you gon’ be in the dog (dogg) pound
now that’s corrupt, soon as i roll by him, headshot him, have his head knotted like “that’s what’s up!”
give him seven more shots to his stomach if that’s enough
n-gga, if this f-ggot bluff at any time, you get clapped to death
remember when i said tyler the creator and don’t n0body wanna see this f-ggot flex?
that sh-t ain’t mean nothin’ than what it meant, ’cause don’t n0body wanna see this f-ggot flex!
big facts, n-gga, the sig clap and push his rig back
remember i said he gon’ be dreadin’ here? well, it’s alopecia, he won’t get his wig back!
i ain’t write nothin’ for this battle, and the sh-t that he housin’ ain’t even a throne
n-gga, you get that?
’cause the n-gga said “leave him alone”, but for one i’m just givin’ him a big mac!
last bar, and i’m f-ckin’ hard, and i only showed up because i f-ck with ya’ll
and this n-gga really is a baby to me, and i tell a doctor to abort
this n-gga ain’t makin’ it past knees like his f-ckin’ shorts!
why are your shorts so high?
your shorts so high, look like they think about everybody and don’t let a thought go by
and his kneecaps so sharp, the microphone might be givin’ em feedback
so i’m like a doc at the reflex, techs baow!, n-gga, i need that!
yo, ya’ll wanted freestyles and reb-ttals, and f-ckin’ writtens
i just showed you what i do to these little p-ssies, and i ain’t f-ckin’ kiddin (kitten)!
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