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king of the dot - illmac vs. b magic lyrics
[round 1: b magic]
i say where j diggs at?
cemeteries, get filthy where i’m from like seminary
couple chest shots, yeah that’ll get him buried
didn’t even run across his mind like he didn’t worry
oak town, my shotgun in the p-ssenger seat
lookin’ envy in the eyes like angela yee
the goat n-gg-, you gonna need percy jackson to see
duane wade in the huddle i be clappin’ wit’ heat
i happen to see, a buncha dark days and bright nights
these blazers make him jump, boy they like mike’s
it’s somethin’ new, i’ll leave mac sh-ll shocked
they open the door to get him bagged like a bell hop
i flunk cl-ss, kept puttin’ two c’s to spell “block”
kiss a bullet, i make him french tips like a nail shop
ya b-tch knockin’ i let her in like a mail box
answer wit’ the arm in her face like a cell watch
i say, illmac, meet ill mac, you get the rest he get an ill mac
and tell the laws that he k!lled himself
you ready to die my n-gg-? all we do is live for death
get an ak from the blindside like a vision test
you see it? i leave you in the trap dead n-gg-
they see the king and be like, “f-ck what ‘mac said n-gg-.”
i clap lead, k!ller, smack dead, center, to crack heads, the steel’ll leave ‘mac dead; miller
i said i’m overdosing, i hold the toast and the hammer blam
chopper type writin’, boy i let that hammer dance
somethin’ bulging off the hips, them my hammer pants
get loud and it’s goin’ down like an avalanche
for cash money, i ain’t showin’ no love
for ‘mac (mack) he’ll be weezy, throwin’ up blood, you get it?
mack had weezy throwin’ it up
it’s still poppin’ when i see him like i’m holdin’ a grudge
what is up? i get ya whole body rolled in a rug
kicked the hospital door, at his deathbed like, “show me the plug.”
i f-ck ’em up
it’s b magic posted up with these .45’s
know it’s magic when i tell you that the show has arrived
[round 1: illmac]
my name carries weight in this game
but outside of this, they’re frontin’ weight in the game
i’m solid, think my reputation’ll change
he doin’ name flips, i really made flips off the strength of my name
you’re not gonna win
watch him get winded, it’s a marathon, i jog what you sprinted
tryin’ to be (b) positive, you out for blood? i’m o-negative
that means anybody can get it
i ain’t the one to try, channel your worst nightmares and make ’em come alive
take a dozen lives just to bathe in blood, your brain’s a sponge, i came and rung it dry
my stream of consciousness, change incoming tides
i blink galaxies out of existence, afraid to shut my eyes, time and sp-ce would just unwind
but long as i’m awake the sun can rise
raiden, thunder god, uppercut will make him touch the sky
fans scared, magic in the air, i gave him b-tterflies
age like grapes taken from the vine
ace of spades in jugs of wine
he’s tasteless, unrefined
basic, won’t have my greatness undermined
with name flips, take this plate of humble pie
i’m a narcissist, only faced him to hear my name 100 times
now he gon’ say a bunch of lines, usin’ “ill” “mac” “poe” or “greg”
i mean every single battle, his approach the same
i watched his old sh-t, sh-t my favorite moments came
when beasley did his intro, and listed his only strength, his opponent’s name
see everybody flow the same
chinese water torture, with one drip only
feels like i’m bein’ drawn and quartered by one trick ponies
oh, you want attention? there’s a different way to get it
chip on my shoulder blade and my ambition is weighin’ wit’ it, show the blade
he’s so afraid, this ain’t entertaining is it?
it hurt like halloween candy
now his folks afraid i’ma stick a razor in it
back in the trenches, see as a tactic magicians distract us wit’ b-tches
the mask what the trick is
i seen through his actin’, had some predictions
choke by the second, the battle is finished
saw the body in two, couldn’t have did it without magic’s -ssistance
ya broad is corny
she tweeted me i had to block at shorty
she asked how i thought me and magic paired well
tell her (teller) my pen (penn) does all the talkin’ for me
blew ya shot, could’ve blown potentially
give him enough rope he’ll hang himself and choke eventually
he a fiend
sh-t, i know the energy
behind closed doors you’re usin’ magic…open sesame
for years, he been sad wallowing in his shame
look who came back, crawlin’ for some change
get that -ss washed like a bidet
money on his head? i put a dollar and a half on it wit’ the blade
he’s aged, havin’ come back problems and i’m straight
he’s a slouch, lookin’ bad, posturin’ on stage
has been, i can’t watch what you became
with the standard son set (sunset), fans callin’ it a day
mac this, mac that, that’s all you finna say
facts, all your sh-t is played
be like, “catch him where he live, give ‘mac 10 (mac-10) crip walkin’ in l.a
white boy dead the mil will (miller) have ‘mac tossin’ in his grave.”
well this is my opinion and all i’m gonna say is
we had a cl-ssic wit’ illmaculate, yeah call me by my name
town bidness, only right ‘mac maul (mall) him in the bay
what’s crackin’?!
[round 2: b magic]
i hit ‘mac wit’ somethin’ stupid
when magic come and clap and draw
since we in oak town it’s only right i give ‘mac ’em all (mall)
against the wall, come and play wit’ it like racquetball
clap at y’all, blew (blue) up his whole body like an avatar
[?] car, put ‘mac in the trunk like the gun hot
he need n-gg-s to help him fight like ong bak
i’m insane wit’ this crippin’ but never visited rum block
he thinkin’ that he hard ’til i leave him wit’ a dumb knot
pressure, shotgun in the jersey, have a nice night
’til ya mom’s at the doctor askin’, “whatcha life like?”
real n-gg-, try to embarr-ss me under bright lights
and i’ma let you see what i’m sayin’, boy i’m like skype
i say check me out, i pull two from the belt
hold it down, i fill up the arm and shoot you to death
you ain’t get it? n-gg-
magic ride wit’ some real mac’s, hit ‘mac (mack) truck and he’ll get jacked up like the wheel’s flat
f-ck it, give four to ya nugget, like millsap
first the calicoe, and then he met a four (metaphor), it was a real wrap (rap)
you ain’t catch it?
it do make a nice n-gg- feel wack
it ain’t nothin’ funny but these cans’ll k!ll ‘mac
catch on to it
i say, i do numbers with the lines, that’s bar code
and put you in the clouds easy (eazy) ‘crossroads’
magic, boy you f-ckin’ wit’ a lost soul
magic bringin’ poles (polls) on the stage like a talk show
it’s off loc
{stumbles}
it’s off loc, and the k up in the ride
’bout to give illmac (ill mack) before he died
i hope ya mom’s just abort the p-ssy
i send a message in the sh-ll like a fortune cookie
off this rookie
yeah my block’ll be deep
come back and bend ya corner with a flock of chief keefs
grab a clip and then another one, my block on repeat
when it draws you can tell that yo’ box’ll be brief
fourth quarter make a dollar, pressure got the pipes bustin’
it’s always goin’ down in the hood like when dyk-‘s f-ckin’
it’s b magic posted up wit’ these .45’s
just know it’s magic when they tell you
(the show has arrived!)
[round 2: illmac]
yo, he goin’ against illmac, talkin’ loud, the better style
goin’ and mention millsap, goin’ against portland and got knocked out the second round
the fans tryin’ to [?] for him like, “i dunno. you know if we get ‘old magic’…”
well it’s been years and a comeback won’t matter if we get old magic
i mean, think dead end job, mindless occupation
when i take you out back and make you the brains behind the operation
pray for him
my words are godly, i track ’em down like german n-z-‘s
burn his body like black & mild
don’t ask me how it’s gettin’ ugly
and all they see is a perfect body like shallow hal
ask around, racks on me, i get dollars from the west
i slaps homie, i rick rock ya, the flow fire
holdin’ a match closely to flint water
you trash homie, you gets nada
bend the knee, kiss the rings, my hand’s holy, it’s stigmata
nailed it
half my screws loose
[guy in the crowd]
where lux!? where the f-ck is lux?!
[illmac]
hehehe
look, rap consumes you, evil twin, h-llraiser, act confused
askin’ who’s who on pins and needles
’til i take ’em out and stab ’em through you like i practice voodoo
black magic, haus of hoodoo
black candles, witchcraft i’m cuckoo
good shepard, catholic school you
i transcend bars to father greatness, that’s mutulu
don’t let facts confuse you
top 5 convos, you can’t skip past me like ads in hulu
you respect me
imagine if that was mutual
he trash now, how you get enough gas to fuel you?
the reason for us? bias, your whole brand is fubu
trash on wax, f-ck a fans approval
his alb-m is comedy, you don’t look like adam sandler do you?
cause talkin’ to the goat will have you askin’ “what the h-ll happened to you?”
patience gone, scalpel to you
this practice to me, it’s malpractice to you
pack a tool
clap the deuce deuce out the back of a black isuzu
errr, put that in neutral
hit son roof (sunroof), now he has a moon roof
crack his noodle
fans leavin’ like, “that was brutal”
you come up missin’? i’m relaxed and cool in the back sippin’ a gl-ss of ‘gnac, ash and a [?]
tryin’ to turn up, search for the after party
they told me, “have some scruples.”
i said, “he’ll turn up…after the search party.”
there’s a search bar you don’t have to google
style mastered, fashion guru
fascistic rule, you fell from top tier and even stuck in the middle ages, hmm, that was feudal
got a once, every blue moon average, deuce deuce ratchet
{gun shots} shoot through fabric
show up in st. louis like frank lucas
now this how you use casket to move blue magic
he ain’t pushin’ smack or white sh-t
on the corner hittin’ licks just dirty
makes me wanna smack the white sh-t out the corner of ya lips
i mean yo, what is that gross -ss sh-t bro?
take a moment and go, like this {wipes mouth}
he be like, “b magic baby, dressed to k!ll
check the clothing that i got
suicide vest how i’m blowin’ up the spot
magic grind like a traffic sign, posted on the block
let a sh-ll show forgiveness, givin’ folks another shot
bakers dozen, sh-t’ll do you like donuts in a box
extra round get you carried full of holes up in the box
pickin’ up the handle, just to open up his top
y’all gon’ see a b-tch pourin’ like c-ke in the ciroc”
well, i’ll admit it magic, the flow is somethin’ hot
but it’s a lil’ less impressive, it’s the only one you got
watch, i decode his movements, that flow get muted
same rap style every match now, he overused it
i know his rubix, break this man down, yank his rag out
yeah expose his blueprint
round 1!
[round 3: b magic]
i said yo, magic back on the boulevard
sh-t i can show you how to pull his card
i’ll beat ‘mac to death with a wooden board
sh-t, i ain’t even have to get the hood involved
trippin’, i’m prime timing like deon
better duck brother like leon
i am so cold i mix my tanqueray with freon
light up a n-gg-‘s whip like neons
b-tch i’m gettin’ paper
this king ain’t a laker
and i’m blowin’ kush this green ain’t a pacer
{stumbles}
whatchu wanna learn a hat trick?
well let’s see him pull bullets out ya hat b-tch
you better take notes like a back flip
this .45 bag n-gg-s that’s a saks fifth
when i walk up, it won’t be a singe
foot so far in his -ss you won’t see the tennis
gun b-tt all in his mouth, he gon’ need a dentist
rocket in the back of the truck; don’t be a menace
“do we have a problem?”
{stumbles}
whatchu mean, n-gg-?
you better hope that the lord save you
remember the night we’re hearin’ every bar age you
i should scream “domino” when this .4 blaze you
and watch your arm break through him like a card table
i say look, i’ma keep sprayin’ n-gg-, and that toolie, moolie
it’ll leave (italy) people sayin’, “n-gg-”
you ain’t catch it?
i said, “i’ll leave people sayin’ ‘n-gg-‘ cause ‘moolie’ is italy sayin’ ‘n-gg-‘”
it’s b-magic posted up wit’ these .45’s
just know it’s magic when they tell you that the show’s arrived
i told ’em once, these motherf-ckers scared
i’m from the motherf-ckin’ lou’ that’s how a motherf-cka play it
beat me? can you believe what this motherf-ckas said?
he must’ve slipped, fell and b-mped his motherf-ckin’ head
round 5 my n-gg-!
[round 3: illmac]
okay look, ot
listen, you ’bout to get pulverized
get the worst beatin’
he said “the show arrived”
chokin’, i guess it was cancelled after the first season
i mean…
now listen you little…shut the f-ck…listen you little magical f-ck
dammit, this sh-t is strange as h-ll, i’ve had it
i mean i refuse to be called “nerd” by someone who named himself “magic”
i mean, what? was “b sorcery” taken?
no? well there’s your mistake
i’m surprised he didn’t walk in all mysterious wearing a cape
…a blue one
this square isn’t safe
but last time here he ran the block
to be fair he was chased
sh-t’s hilarious, wait
he skipped town after the fight wit’ fox and called it, “a daring escape”
you prolly hopin’ i’ll hit the bar like i did wit’ ars’
but even when i’m grown i’m still a little sharp like a ninja star
this shoulda been happen
he askin’ what conditions are
what time of year? what the limits are
what event? what the venue charge?
i finally said, “jesus magic. just pick a card.”
any card!
but you know what i see his vision
see he ties in things from crippin’ and brings a new meaning to “street magician”
like, catch him, reppin’ gang wit’ the rag
left pocket hangin’ his flag
they break out one bandanna, he breaks out the never ending handkerchief gag
it’s a cl-ssic
outside, performin’ for a crowd of folks like “poof”, a cloud of smoke
“now you see me, now you don’t”
yeah we do but that was close
now climb back out the trash can it’s gross
but see i see his vision, he ties in things from grippin’ bein’ a street magician
and even tries magic on people beefin’ wit’ him
like, he got pressed by some bloods back in the lou’
out numbered, no backup, what was magic to do?
thought fast said, “alakazam alakazoo
now grab your bandannas, abra cadabra your rag is now blue!”
and for a second they was there standin’ confused
then…yeah they still beat the sh-t outta him but man it was smooth
almost had him
this sleight of hand move packs to snorters
hustle bricks and slipped through the cracks like mortar
while magic busy tryin’ to vanish quarters
get backed in corners
like insurgents on iraqi boarders blastin’ mortars
dead zones, leave shock waves throughout apple orchards
got beat dyin’ fast as colony collapse disorder
f-ck a cl-ssic and whatever fans endorse ya
you got to let down ya last supports
your pad full of trash like a house of h–rders
left side, capo/enforcer
i’d put him on the torture rack but only gettin’ paid a rack is torture
i mean, you fell off, let us down
prove counterfeit under scrutiny, washed up
only here off of nostalgia, who he used to be
i mean, he’s dead already withered through a skeleton’s cold bones
legacy won’t hold, pathetic, it’d be better you no showed
we’d rather, remember the better you than see the sh-ll of you go home
guess he fell off of the greater good, i’m collecting the soul stones
someones in decline, i’m above him on the climb
now i gotta put an old dog down, i won’t slump him wit’ the .9
use two .357’s since he only did numbers in his prime
but tell fans of him, the support is felt
but ’til he can man up, it handicaps him more than it helps
i don’t need a punch to land, this battle isn’t for the belt
i’m up here shadowboxin’…cause he’s just a shadow of his former self
you know what? tell danny myers, call me out? better bring out the big guns
have three rounds and then some
you believe in a parallel universe?
don’t matter? keep my name out ya mouth in this one!
ill!
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