[Round 1: Calicoe]
Lux, you are a grown man. You brought a casket with you?
Either you had dyin’ in your plans
Or you have an excessive amount of time on your hands
But let me talk, on the real, Smack
The media just tried to fuck my life up, shit almost got real, Smack
But I’m a man of my word ‘cause I’m real, Smack
Ain’t no fuckin’ animals gettin’ killed, Smack
Ain’t no pitbull or roosters gettin’ killed, Smack
If I was the head of an operation, y’all think I woulda filmed that?
Now I guess they think Cal is just that ruthless
Now I’m disappointed in my fans for even thinkin’ I’m that stupid
So I’m supposed to say some shit that I don’t really do
So I ain’t hot, son?
I mean Shotgun say he a gangbanger, but he not one
Bill Collector say he got the burner, but he ain’t got one
That was just a situation from a nigga to learn a lot from
But then you got niggas like Arsonal got the nerve to tweet
“Cal must don’t give a fuck about his career.”
I guess I give a fuck about yours
At the end of our battle when you was whisperin’ in my ear
Sayin’, “Calicoe, can you please get me the fuck up outta here?”
You got the nerve to laugh and joke about some shit that can land me behind bars beggin’ for my rights
But you was in the middle of my city, beggin’ for your life
Surf got knocked, you didn’t give a fuck
You was beggin’ for your flight
But I was thinkin’ drop everything and bail him out tonight
But you know why these niggas can’t get with me?
‘Cause I went from the bottom to the top
I’m officially the smartest nigga in Smack history
If you disagree you probably a nigga that don’t mean shit to me
I went from Lux to Nuborn within a year? I make history
Remember Goodz was talkin’ about a patent leather vest
Or Calicoe versus Cortez or somethin’ I wanted y’all to get to see
It’s funny how shit change, right? ‘Cause now I’m the nigga that send them through other niggas to get to me
It ain’t a mystery, Lux, we know you been here
But you ain’t take a shot at a motherfucker in ten years
So when I expose him they all gon’ hate me
What I’m sayin’ is, it don’t matter if you loaded, Lux
When that gun on safety
They told me I had you, I said: “I’ma box that boy.”
They say he be gettin’ loud, well fuck it, I’ma stop that noise
For the last 10 years them legends been livin’ through us
‘Cause they got no voice
Only reason they back in the URL is ‘cause all their careers failed
And they ain’t got no choice
That K clap, it’ll push your shit way back
You think them jewels rocky, that’s why I’m takin’ them ASAP
I got some shit that’ll make a nigga lay flat
The silencer on it, call it Pat, ‘cause it don’t say jack
You don’t make the rules, my niggas be shakin’ tools
Make a move, BOOM!
His brains spread everywhere like breakin’ news
No disrespect to y’all city, but I’m just sayin’
In my city that type of shit right there don’t even make the news
Y’all know who I’m with
BMF, that sign stitched, read it in the fine print
I’m kidnappin’ your whole family
I’m even duct-tapin’ your mom, bitch
And we’ll never see his son again, turn that nigga to Don Trip
I see the games he play; officer Hoyt, this your training day
You thought this the method to the top, this the dangerous way
Y’all saw what I did last year, well fuck it, I’ll do the same today
It’s obvious I’ve been eatin’ niggas
‘Cause I ain’t lost since I’ve been gainin’ weight
But you say the fastest way through Harlem is the A train
That’s how I know he never had a chance
‘Cause I’m shootin’ without a cameraman
So when I pop, the fastest way through Harlem is in an ambulance
But we ain’t never see him sparkin’ up the chrome
I’ll catch him in his crib, they’ll have to chalk him in his home
Or I’ll catch him on his block while he’s walkin’ all alone
And put the pound on his chin like he talkin’ on the phone
You a great rapper, Lux, I’ll never tell you to give it up
But if you ain’t sayin’ some shit they can relate to
They don’t give a fuck — Landslide!
[Round 1: Loaded Lux]
This for the brothers up north gettin’ full on that Jack Mac
First Smack back, we got a nigga to backsmack
And you gon love it. It’s gon’ be a lot of head rolls
Breath hold ’til the death toll
You know, you Detroit niggas came to get divided
But y’all gon’ always come together at funerals
You’ve even now decided
But why is this done every time that the preacher signs in?
Well, it’s a sign in
Look at all these portraits of my corpses
I’m just waitin’ on you niggas sizes
I can have the pain in your pit paned into a tweet frame
Get Eminem to 8 mile by 10 it, or Royce to 5’9 it
Though hip hop don’t need any more
Of these niggas dyin’ behind it
You keep tryin’, but all you niggas is good for is deep fryin’
They told your daddy, in him a great gene was hidin’
Well, he shoulda kept it in his jeans
Your life woulda had a better fight on a bed sheet dryin’
Rather than tryin’ to beat the mind as deep as a minin’
African diggin’ passages halfway into China to reap a diamond
Let me be honest
When they break down every round that I’ve sketched, bouts
There’s nothin’ tougher than smooth
As the rusty tools in a shed house
You niggas came here playin’, it’s cool
But y’all gon’ leave givin’ head counts
They didn’t even book you niggas rooms
I told ’em Harlem Hospital givin’ beds out
#
[Round 2: Calicoe]
New York City, is this how y’all gonna try to play me?
Math was shakin’ his hand like, “Goddamn, somebody saved me!”
But guess what, you thought he was gonna come up here
And treat me and make me look like a joke, nigga?
Sorry… Sike! He choked, nigga!
But I’ll beat your bitch-ass
And then make my bitch beat your bitch ass
See, we ain’t got to always talk ’bout how we’ll let a clip blast
Let’s talk about some personal shit about your snitch-ass
You told Smack… what, you know what?
I don’t even like when niggas do all that personal shit
Boy, we’re face to face, how personal can personal get?
After I rob you I’m takin’ all your personal shit
Tell your bitch to get out the car and leave her purse in the whip
I’m thirsty with clips
Let me find out he workin’ with bricks
I’m squirtin’ some shit that can leave him with a reversible hip
I swear to God, every bar and every verse that he spit
It just be all wordplay, sound like some nursery shit
Y’all like wordplay? Alright, fuck it, I’ll give him wordplay
It’s Tuesday, I’ll give him a week to pay me, but by the third day
I’m showin’ up for that easy money, yeah you heard, Jay
You’re like, “It’s only Thursday.”
I don’t give a fuck what that herb say
I’m lettin’ the chopper rumble like an earthquake
‘Cause I just wanted a reason to kill him
I ain’t want the money in the first place
Do you snort coke or is you a crackhead?
Yo, he ain’t gon’ fuck with me, tell him it don’t matter
‘Cause when that MAC spread, it’s gon’ hit back heads
And if he don’t die, he better lay down and act dead
I clap lead, roll with a chopper longer than Shaq leg
I got a shooter named Smokey
I tell him: “Hit everything on the list, my nigga,” that’s Craig
And if my nigga didn’t get locked up, he woulda killed you
Free Hollow, them niggas actin’ like Hollow dead
Fuck Loaded Lux, I’ll get Lux loaded with all hollow-heads
But you’re a gangster, Lux? How?
Well, back in the day I heard you was extortin’ niggas? Nah
You was goin’ down to the police station and was reportin’ niggas
But I got Detroit shooters that’s ready to cross that border, nigga
So when they come with the extendos
Them clips hangin’ like Florida, nigga
So it ain’t no coincidence when he missin’ in action
MIA, see most of y’all niggas missin’ the action
We don’t play, it’s only one reason I’m grippin’ the ratchet
First nigga to take the stand will forever sit in that casket
If I clip it, I blast it; if I live it, I rap it
That K flyin’, no K Shine when he’s zipped in a plastic
I’m ‘bout to flip on some nasty shit mainly ‘cause I hate niggas
It’s amazin’ how I draw somethin’ just to erase niggas
He thought I was a paid dentist, the way I left him rotten
And every tooth comin’ out his mouth if I put the K in it
Nicky Barnes, Frank Lucas, Alpo—they’re all from Harlem, right?
And they all eventually turned into rats
And from the looks of things, Loaded Lux wanna turn into that
‘Cause in his song called “Love Taps”
When he was dissin’ Math Hoffa, he clearly stated that Math was a student and he was the proctor, right?
You think him being a proctor, or you being a proctor make you the professor? Nah, let me teach you a lesson
The proctor, a nigga that monitors a student
And makes sure he or she doesn’t cheat during an examination
So basically, everything he talks about is a fabrication
You bein’ a proctor only make you a bitch, and proves that you followin’ Harlem footsteps will make you a snitch
So who do you think you convinced?
Like you’re some intelligent mobster
If Smack had a top five you wouldn’t make the roster
Boy, don’t think it’s Olive Garden when I spot ya
Over cheese them shells hittin’ his noodle, no pasta
I’m somethin’ like a shotter
And nigga, you don’t wanna sit here
I’ma squeeze until it click, click, then I’ma switch here
Ever since I battled Math you’ve been actin’ like a bitch here
They told me I had Lux, I said: “Fuck it, he can pick where.”
I’m so raw and I put the smack down, let’s get shit clear
This is the big show, and y’all wonder how I get here
Heard your mans got the pounds in his crib, I’m tryna get there
For the people’s elbows I’ll rock him and let that ric flair
You’re a great rapper, Lux, I’ll never tell you to give it up
But if you ain’t sayin’ some shit they can’t relate to
They don’t give a fuck
[Round 2: Loaded Lux]
You was reachin’, baby, you was climbin’ to be implyin’
My sneakers slidin’ like I’m slippin’
Well, let me get a grip then
Round this nigga motherfuckin’ neck
I’m gon’ put that pressure on it all night and keep applyin’
You people buyin’ we equal-sided
This would seem a devised scheme disguised as a match
That’s what happen when Smack he don’t screen the clients
All this work you put in, nigga
And you get the same simple assignment
And every time you line these niggas up, I got to do realignments
And Beasley, you lyin’
These kids paid for a bout on the big stage
And you gave ’em a rib cage to feed sheep to lion
Why wake the sleepin’ giant?
With a need for diet, a mean for green divided
A rap league of tyrants, and a child bein’ defiant
Oh, I’m in battle mode
This shit preferably to show a prior professor the precise calculated correct methods of math, nigga
This is how you kill-k-k-kill-kill Calicoe
Talent show, this is God’s call
Youngin, you’ve got to learn how this works: Job Corps
It’s hardball with an oddball
When the shots you throw through do car door like it’s cardboard
I feel like I’m at your mom’s door
With a convoy full of armed boys from Darfur
My heart core colder than the shoulders on a US soldier on ‘Nam shores, but you can sense it, nigga
The tension thicker than German guard dogs
My beloved Iron Shiek say ‘Allahu Akbar’
It used to be, chopper to street
Two Tupacs for the fleet, oh I’m humbled
You know I’ve learned the science of rockets
As my thought process at meek
You’re a hobby at peak, I’m like the league doctor’s doctrine
You’re adopted, incompetent, weak
I’m about to pull every compliment out of confident weak
I can see you boppin’ the beat box on repeat
“Yo, this fuck nigga Lux nigga not in my league, he got to be seen.”
Well, what you mean, nigga, optical reach?
I’m too much of an optimum leap
Ever since Hoffa you think you can swap with elites
What you niggas got to compete, not to retreat
Get beat ’til you drop to your feet when you in the opposite seat
They don’t know who they with, y’all didn’t think it exists
I think y’all thought maybe I was a myth
That waited in the abyss and came up out of the mists
But I get to aimin’ and I don’t miss
I’m about to put it all in your Catcher’s Mitt
Dyin’ in this ring is a sure thing and you’re the death in it
Can you see the difference between metaphors and real raps? How a nigga with metaphors can really rap?!
Your slogan? That shit a propped-up scheme for the skill you lack
Now I get it, why you did it
Personal shit, why you diggin’
But if you find any skeletons in my closet, nigga
Well, that should tell you how long it had bodies in it
They wanna know what happened
I said some captain turned Judge Mathis
Cut your pops off in the middle of drug traffic
You stole the role, heart cold, blood Aspen
With the pump plastic, in front Math just
Talkin’ all crazy at events, some madness
‘Bout how you gon handle Lux tactics
Too much for your young actress
All that fake-ass gun clappin’
“Landslide”… that’s for caskets
You know I kill, you can read, everything in my bio has it
How y’all disrespect God? How did y’all disrespect God?
Ain’t it evil to live backwards?
Let me bring that back ‘cause I need y’all to grasp it
Ain’t it evil to live backwards?
I’m just askin’, what you thought?
What, ‘cause you had more battles than me?
You dropped 30 in a couple of games?
Nigga, I wasn’t even on the court
Look, it ain’t about how many fights you had, it’s who you fought
This what champions look like
And we don’t look like, you look light
I’m floored by you boys’ battle verses
You Jim Lampley, Larry Merch, nigga you just talk a good fight
I heard they rathered Verb in a clash with words
I said word, they have some nerve, he don’t have the nerve
You see, deep in they hearts, the three from the Arc
Wouldn’t risk gettin’ snapped with Larry Bird
Chill, young, this your lil’ man’s fight, you can’t cover that
Besides, Miles couldn’t even do a block with me
I’d be lyin’ about another lap
The trouble back, I’ma get you right when the traffic thick
I let a Nuclear Reactor hit
Lot of active lip while I was away
You niggas had all this tongue and can’t rap a lick
Let X Factor trip, I won’t even drag the script
We’ll just lock that nigga in a room
And keep showin’ him the match with Clips
Terraneo, you don’t know who terrain you on
The conditions we done trained along, traditions I was raised upon
This new shit here for chumps
That’s why I’m up here just doin’ what I want
I used to battle on the roof, the loser had to jump
But you know, he got dreams of that Learjet
But he gon’ lean like Aaliyah jet
We could bet I brought somethin’ out a little normal
Just in case niggas with you doubt I’d do you awful
Oh, but it’s gon’ cost you
You can tell Trick Trick the only address he’ll have left is the email
He put the house on you
But three things… You, X-Factor, Miles
Y’all better learn to like the gym
For you might could spend
The rest of your battle career tryin’ to win a fight to live
Secondly, I woulda thought Heartless
Woulda made you care who you put your life against
First of all, only thing you gon ever have over me is your height but then I’ll slash a hyphen in
When your hype begins, your night can end
I’ve been killin’ since they paid in shillings
These dealings I got a license in
To say I see the sights of men
That’s like pretendin’ the dicks of the dyke was thick
In the slit when she piped a chick
There’s about 50cc’s of Vicodin in my writin’ pen
You’ll get scraped crazy like a M80 before they light the stem
In fame vote, me in or not, I should be named dope
For the most and wrote the game quote
What you brought for me, a bunch of motherfuckin’ train jokes?
This shit no laughin’ matter
When in the end our cake mixed and you ain’t even half the batter
How you gon’ get the pitch? We don’t even have a batter
You’s a waste of my motherfuckin’ time, nigga
And you’re cuttin’ into your mother’s fuckin’ time, nigga
[Round 3: Calicoe]
Murda Mook, Iron Soloman, Serius Jones, Loaded Lux, E Ness
Smack, that’s your start five?
These niggas really got me stressed
Fuck them! We vets, them niggas ain’t got shit
Yeah, they sold a couple DVD’s, but we the reason you got rich
The same niggas that you’re claimin’ as your pioneers
Is the same niggas that showed up that was dyin’ here
What you woulda did without that Landslide? Easy before me
What you woulda did without Ball Game?
How could you work without priorities?
K Shine zipped niggas up when he got it clear
DNA told Smack to get these old niggas the fuck outta here
So I’m speakin’ the truth so I’m sayin’ somethin’ wrong today?
Yeah, y’all started this shit, y’all the reasons the labels think battle rappers can’t make songs today
But your man got the longest face
He like he wanna try somethin’
The first nigga who says he got his back gon’ die frontin’
Any problems with my niggas, them 9’s dumpin’
All my niggas quick to suit up: they’re job huntin’
You show out, get show down, don’t lie, sucka
Die like Evel Knievel if he arrives stuntin’
Since when Lux was a threat in the game?
Fuck this battle, I’m here for the check and my name
They said the feds was on me
Shit, I thought it was some stretch and some ‘caine
But nah, it was for some shit that had nothin’ to do with me
But I told you, it’s a big difference between you and me
This ain’t the funeral, I’m just plannin’ your eulogy
So when he wake up with his face on the news
It’s not for no animal cruelty
His mind flowin’, I’m stoppin’ traffic I said
Two dome shots will put a road block in his head
And I ain’t even got to shoot at your man
I could put the loot on your man
I can retire, I found youngsters that’ll shoot for a grand
So if you don’t get your mind right, they push your brains left
I get them what Smack givin’ me, I got change left
Then I hit the club with only niggas that been with me
And blow the rest of it at Jersey girls at Sin City
There’s only one time I’ma ask for respect and I’m blastin’ the TEC
And that’s word to the tat on my neck
That’s my mama by the way
If there’s drama in the way
I’ll lift that llama off my waist and start piranha:in’ his face
Yeah, you battled one nigga that come from the D
No disrespect, but at the time he wasn’t as hungry as me
That day, bar for bar, my bro Miles didn’t stand a chance
But I bet you, man to man he’ll beat you hand for hand
Twiz can leave, we don’t even need this camera man
I’ll fuck you up on stage, nigga, right now
Now the fans lookin’ like, “Damn, Cal ain’t gotta rhyme.”
But I told you, when it’s real shit it ain’t gotta rhyme
Check his pockets, Smack, I bet to you he ain’t got a dime
Over my paper, he ain’t even get his chicken scratched for gettin’ outta line — chicken scratched, paper, out of line…
That’s Big T’s shit, and he started it
But the line so smart the shit sound like some retarded shit
Let him try me tonight, he gon’ get his shit peeled back
Drag him across the stage like Stevie J and Lil Scrap
After a nigga battle me, I made him feel wack
‘Cause there’s a difference between metaphors and real rap
[Round 3: Loaded Lux]
Let’s get to choppin’ this fable
You’re a fake new 2Pac and we’re fatal
But you’re a gay who’s really a softy
Starbucks coffees, moccasins, bagels
I begged you, come get your thing popped at your cable
Man shit, but since we couldn’t get your pops at the table
If you’re able, please tell him that hand that rules the world
That’s the one that’s finna rock your cradle, nigga
If you notice, I mentioned Verb in the other round
I’m guessin’ now, subconsciously, possibly, you probably
‘Cause he favored this problem I had to step around
You remember that Holla beef, where he checked a child?
I’m bettin’ Cal and Hitman are stickmen
And you wear the weddin’ gown
All I’m sayin’ is y’all married yo, the scenario, same def and style
But why are your expressions foul?
I get this feelin’ like, you feelin’ like
What I said was down… low, like “Yo, like, that was wild!”
But that’s funny, ‘cause I’m a little skeptical
Had my peoples investigate you, pal
Instagram for you Calicoe fans that have yet to browse
July 17th, 8:40 PM, you posted up
Aw, nigga, you know what’s up, we kept the file
You’ve got some explainin’ to do, can we address the crowd?
Exhibit A
So that’s how Detroit gangstas do? Skinny dippin’ gone wild?
Well, we ain’t judgin’ though, you ain’t on trial
My beloved T-Rex says
“Grown man bars is somethin’ you got to deal with.”
So all of that collaborated, fabricated
It ain’t gon’ equal up to this real shit
Check it out, I want y’all to picture this as I paint the slide
Tombstone grain inscribed, here lies my beloved, grave this wide
I mean I had that much love for you
I know that ‘cause you got that much hate for I
Don’t want you to hang your eye
Not for a second, lil nigga, catch it, brace your vibe
Be froze, for death is cold
I wanna search your soul
And hold onto whatever holes exposin’ the pain you hide
Bring me mine, nigga!
Now I don’t wanna break this bond, I just wanna break the cycle
Thank your moms I’d like to
For the nights she didn’t write you
She stayed in line, so your days could shine
I might do one better, with a letter to tell her
How I appreciate in kind, how strong a queen she is
And any man would be lucky for her to be made his bride
You see, I take in mind your situation
And though I never met your father
I see a lot of his ways in your stride
I mean, you got that “talk it like I walk it” kind of attitude
And you know it’s real good he gave you pride
Every son should be proud of his father
And I look at my little one and I want the same for mine
That’s why when I look up at you
I see what it can go through when a father don’t take the time
You know what I think is fucked up?
I think it’s real fucked up when those people gave him all that time
You wanna know what’s even more fucked up?
It’s for all them years that he got away from you
Has only been a way for you
To be more together with him in a cage in five
That’s why I’m angry, guy
‘Cause he didn’t take the steps, now you chase his rep
But them runnin’ shoes ain’t your size
They say: “Don’t whine over spilled milk.”
But what a man ‘posed to do when his baby’s cryin’?
Oh, he say shit like, you know, “It costs to be the boss.”
What, he too good for a payin’ job?
What was wrong with bein’ a cable guy?
A real estate agent? Why
Was that nigga to cool to go to flight school
And learn how to fly planes through the friendly skies?
But nah, he told you he had to do what he had to do
To put food on y’all plate to dine
You mean you tell me all that slangin’ and bangin’
Was to give y’all greater lives?
When God gave him drive?
And that Big Meech backup singing-ass nigga left your mom out here alone for the latest ride?
That don’t plague your mind?
Them mistakes ain’t guides? And you wonder why them Shotgun Suge shells still ache your spine?
Look what Ray Ray got Lil Jimmy out here in New York doin’
Tell your OG Bobby Johnson
He tried to steal the wrong radio this time, nigga
Hey, if you see South Central
When you see this again that’s gonna be one of your favorite lines
Somethin’ to think about next time you on stage wavin’ signs
Tryin’ to be like the only daddy you got
And I understand you wanna keep his name alive
But youngin, I’m tryin’ to save you from your demise
You said it yourself, “My pops was a real nigga.”
Youngin, that ain’t no lie
He was in the business that the system perpetuates on the side
To keep us in the condition where we ain’t made to survive
But you think he a god? Well, let me ask you this
Would you kill the world to save yourself, nigga?
Yeah, I ain’t think that was wise
Somethin’ to think about the next time y’all thuggin’
Drinkin’ and druggin’, hard liquor, y’all full of killas
Remember, I tried to give him the large picture
Your pops wasn’t no gangster, he was just another lost nigga
You think it’s gangster to let a mother love that dope more than her daughter?
Shoot a father from his son, then turn around and put that boy on the corner?
Or leave your son out here alone to fend for himself knowin’ he need order?
Is your money bein’ long worth your lifespan bein’ shorter? Huh?
But I’m just tryin’ to give you the large picture
Your pops wasn’t no gangster, he was just another lost nigga
Gangsta’s brothers like Marcus Garvey
Who when he performed lectures
Raised consciousness up from doin’ wrong
To puttin’ us in uniforms, makin’ us soldiers in God’s army
All them Garveyites, Nat Turner
When the man had us on the back burner
Facts further steady he lead one of the greatest revolutions of freedom slaves you ever heard of
But then he got murdered
You know what? Harriet Tubman was more of a man than your father would ever be, nigga!
I mean, your daddy, that father title get deployed
You know, a wise man told me that a wise man understands
In this life you gon’ either build or destroy
And since it takes a father to raise a man-child
Well, it’s no wonder you talk all that young shit, you a lil boy
That don’t get the large picture
Your pops wasn’t no gangster, he was just another lost nigga
Look at me, King! Look at me! He was so lost…
You lost, nigga, look how they got you, Fox 2, CNN
You’re supposed to be one of the leadin’ faces in battle rap
Look how you represent
They told me, I said stop lyin’, y’all hype him
You in the crib with pissed alligators and shit
Not to mention everybody else
But you damn near got yourself indited
Then you showed the chickens
I thought about you and your man in that picture
“These Detroit niggas still cockfightin’.”
[UNHEARD 2ND VERSE: Loaded Lux]
Cal, you say I didn’t put you on
That was Miles and the nigga Norbes
I say how did he get it wrong? Wow, y’all been misinformed
You gotta explain then
Who put together that weigh in that you was on?
You see I was in New York but got it done in Detroit
When Miles couldn’t orchestrate it, Moe Dirty would get the calls
Real raps, let’s kick it off; you gon’ tell it then tell it all
Instead of yellin’ all I did was put my logo
My brand, on every clip that went forth
Well, hello nigga, switchboard
Then God said “Let there be light!”
So I ain’t gotta guess that you bright
But I’ll put pieces of you everywhere, nigga
If it’s gon’ help me collect your life
Now correct me if I ain’t right
But don’t the press get a price
For every time they run with the hype?
Don’t HBO 24/7 pay Floyd every time he dress up to fight?
When […] was on the hill, wasn’t he collectin’ from Sprite?
But soon as niggas start thinkin’ they Jordan
And jump, man, you put ’em in front of Nike
I get back to checkin’ you niggas mics
See, I fought to get that D verse Chicago battle goin’, Miles know it
But niggas in your own city didn’t wanna have him hold it
I threw alley oops to the “No Fly Zone”
Well, you’re the last one I’m throwin’
If I give you niggas shots, then what’s a Calico if it ain’t loaded?
You see, before the URL, me and the good folks over at Lionz Den
We took battle rap, revamped and new breeded this department
You know, I even had a couple legends
Come meet us off their starships
I showed how bad Goodz was, I let K shine
ICE would freeze a nigga before the sparks went
Remember where you seen it first
Arsonal and Clips both cleanin’ out their cartridge
Gave Rich Dollaz a lean target
Goddamn it, we got Big T started
Word, if it wasn’t for us, shit, nigga Verb’d still be in the flea market
But you—YOU! You’re my greatest creation
You would think we were two nation when it was war declared
But you can’t send boys who crawlin’ scared
To men who walk through dares
It’s an insult to compare; Detroit, we can’t even score this fair
I just came to show him, that I planted this here notion
Way before you were long or where
Oh, you be in Chicago? Well, that’s funny
‘Cause I came to break down this Hightower
That thinks he’s tall as the Sears
Now peep, we call it dressin’ rappers
You know, you like lettin’ them endorse your gear
Give ‘em shorts to wear, you know, start ‘em bein’ active
Get somebody from a whole other region
Different city, younger demographic
This helps with the different markets you’re tryin’ to tap in
Let them get about ten taped battles
I’m guess-timatin’ about seven million views
Whooo! I’m not accurate, but that’s traffic
Goddamn it, that’s classic!
‘Cause see, what happens
Is you help a man to build an empire, then you attack it
Let me ask this: you read the Bible, Mr. Hightower?
I mean Calicoe, uuh, perhaps you don’t
The reason I’m askin’ for
You see, in the book of Exodus, chapter two, verse ten
I can’t quote the passage though
There’s a part in there where God
Is speakin’ to Moses regarding Pharaoh soul
He says to Moses, about Pharaoh:
“I purposefully hardened his heart just so my wrath could show
The signs of my work
So that afterwards you would know, I am Hov.”
So tell your daddy, nigga, if I got to start gettin’ rid of first borns
Well, you gon’ let my people go
You see this plan I’ve spawned and spearheaded
With a friend of mine since I retired, it was all a dare
A lot of y’all would ask
“How did Calicoe get Lux with so many losses near?”
But I have purposefully pushed this pawn
Across the board this year, you see
It didn’t matter if his victories were HD or Walkman clear
People are biased, I’m not gon’ say they all were fair
But the fact they talked about him in gamblin’ spot and barber chairs, I know niggas saw you there
This is why a mind like mines has long been feared
This is compensation for helpin’ jump startin’ your career
This is payback for every match of yours that aired
You can’t see how in this one night, I got in front of every camera that you’ve ever been on for years
So that would mean for you, all ends here
It’s like the farmer told the potato:
“I’ma plant you now, dig you later.”
You see, we break them then deflate them
With this battle shit it’s battleships
Sometimes you gotta blow ’em up to sink ’em
It took patience, I was stakin’, scoutin’, casin’
The door racin’ between the couch potato
Window when the house was vacant
And it’s pretty clear to me now
Look how many people I brought to crowd your space with
I could have caught you out one night with the wife
When you had reservations and left y’all both late
Brings a new meaning to “outdated”
Speakin’ of your girl, I remember the Summer Madness before
When you and Math was at war
I wanted to ask her before
You brought her out from the back of your boys
You showed her to the crowd, we was like, ‘Wow!’
You know, clap and applause
Cute in the face, ass was galore
I must say she’s attractive for sure
That boy Calicoe got good taste
Baby girl, well we just wanna know what happened to yours
They told you to chill, Cal
Now you in here with a real bow
Uphill battle with a hundred pound wheel barrow
Kneel, how? Shit turn to pressure like a steel valve
You crack on me like I deal vials
This ain’t even beef, you ain’t real, Cal
See them people from PETA put this young boy in a cold storm
With no clothes on, that’s why niggas got told on
I think he tried to hold on and was like, “Hold on!”
What’s gonna happen if keepin’ it real goes wrong?
Not killa-ma-gilla-go-rilla Cal, always down for the riot
But now Big T come in the house, gotta tell him “Quiet!”
FB eyein’ till they build stacks
That’s when they come and get ya
Disfigure your member, then give you your grill back
Like, we just wanna see where your skills at
We understand your tongue is your weapon
But you ‘posed to conceal that
You know once you give ’em control it’s hard to get that will back
Money moves used to light your fuse, they killed that
Tell Ice Cube we done found his chill pack
Let’s reveal facts
They put a offer on the table, you pushed the deal back
I need to speak to my lawyer or point me to my cell
Anything else, then he’ll rat
You took 48 hours and made the 48 seconds flat
If you a Calicoe fan, you supposed to feel wack
Now we already know the answer, but we gon’ still ask
When they had you in that room
Did you give them metaphors or real raps?