Battlerap.com | Fully Transcribed – B Magic vs Conceited

B-Magic-vs-Conceited-lyrics

Round 1

B MAGIC

You finally stopped ducking, well let’s get straight to work

I grab the tools, ’bout to act a fool, like it’s April 1st

Fifth’ll blow, lift your soul, this is no, day in church

Sex on the beach; this bitch gon’ get laid in dirt

Listen up, Reggie, I hop up out the Cavalier, them shots flame

Bandana on me with the 30-30; I’m John Wayne

Con-ceited gon’ catch every shell it con-tain

Then I’m running back to the Cavalier; Lebron James

He thinking he sick, now that’s a hypochondriac

Thinking he sick? Don’t give a fuck how hyper Con react

I say, I buck the machine, I bet he changed; that’s a laundromat

Steel peel, something Ill Will hit his Pontiac

Am I the meanest? Sho nuff, well let’s “con-verse”

I heard a Rone dissing Con verse, he kiss a converse

He’ll be Puffy trying to dance with me; Fonzworth

Nine burst, P.O. nigga, I’m making Con work

I’m never scared, it’s B Magic with this bone crusher

Fuck the ambulance, you might as well call the ghostbusters

When this 4 touch ya

I’m telling ya good

You’ll see a crazy K if you don’t get your tail from the hood (Tales From The Hood)

It’s B Magic, the four holder, I’m more doper

Don’t make me call up the war soldiers, the war’s over

Ain’t nothing good ‘bout me reaching in that Toyota

See, Con dough (Condo) will get took and that’s a foreclosure

Your whole name say “I want to be defeated”

What type of straight nigga say, “I wanna be Conceited?”

I’m heated, and strapped, slid in with the crew

I done broke more niggas down than Hidden Colors 2

How you want it? Say it, and I’ll kill that nigga

I’ll slap the shit out of this Kevin Hart-built ass nigga

See, I don’t feel that nigga

This K Shine, you can zip him up

Don’t smoke Reggie, but something blunt will spill his guts

Turn up, from where they moving, looting, and shooting that boy

St. Louis truest, you seen the news and we shooting them toys

Give me room and I’m moving on you and your unit of yours

To keep the beef fresh, I brought something aluminum for you (foil)

My flow’s sicker, you talking like you dumpin’, shoot somethin’

Walhberg and Denzel, nigga, I brought 2 Gunz

So do somethin’, don’t say I ain’t tell him

I’ll stick him up with the Dillinger like Baby Face Nelson

I am here, B Magic versus Tevin Campbell, can we talk?

Catch bullets, that’s what the 80 for; Randy Moss

Back in my arms again, I am the boss

I Will Survive Until We Meet Again like Diana Ross

Google that, your snitch ass, that shit made up

Kevin Gates; your bitch ass will get ate up

For nonbelievers who thinking I won’t get you killed

Just take it from me, you’ll get the steel

I walk up on him like, make the right move

Thirty thou in thirty minutes or I’ma take your life, fool

He said, “haaah?”, I buck the 40 on him, he like, alright, cool

Now that’s progressive, after I pull the Name Your Price tool

B motherfucking Magic, round one, nigga

CONCEITED

Yo, it’s what y’all been waiting for

Conceited vers’ B Magic, this is a homi’

I’m the one that taught this kid how to drop his shit

Made him get on the potty

Y’all done finally put the Karate Kid against Mr. Miyagi

But since y’all think Magic’s worth it, I’ma be a plastic surgeon

Cuz I’m fixing a body!

Nigga, you only rep the blue till the death of you when it’s beneficial

This nigga want to be very Crip till I leave him very crippled

Them real locs run up on him

You see a flag get dropped without a ref and whistle

So don’t say that color’s in your vein and your Crippin is dead official

Cuz we all say you like Beyoncé

We don’t believe that Blue was ever in you

Nigga, you don’t get the pistol, or be dumping out the strap

You just running out your trap

How is your name Magic

And you still ain’t pulling nothing out the cap?

Nigga, I’m comin with the gat at the SPUR of the moment

That nose is longer, I’ll put that Ginobli on ya

I took the HEAT out, like Tony Parker

And a Hollow killed yo (Joe) ass like Total Slaughter

It ain’t no secret, faggot, you know I’m harder, my style’s way better

Your style’s too plain (two plane) in the building like the Trade Center

Everybody can get these techs/texts, it’s like a chain letter

You gon’ see one arm pop; Swave Sevah

For the smallest problems, let hollows from the K stretch ya

You can get hit by a TIP over somethin TINY like MAYWEATHER

Y’all know this nigga’s B Magic, Black Magic, June, that’s real rap

But this nigga’s real name is Jerry Douglas

That’s not a punchline, that’s real facts

Oh, what, you thought that I didn’t know?

Infrareds on top of hammers, beams with the scope

You gonna see a bunch of ratchets and rednecks

On Jerry like the Springer Show

Twin guns, I’ll fill drums, and you lift them both

I’m the type to raise up two black fours to niggas like Different Strokes

Nigga, I will hit your folks when I’m sprayin’

Your whole family gettin’ (get in) the clip like the Wayans

I’ll even go to black church, with a pastor, ratchet

The deacon be singing, “Let Us Pray” bow your heads, and we Amen

Slow it down! I just dissed you!

I said, pass the ratchet, the D can be singing, let us spray

We’ll bow your heads when we aimin’

Nigga, I ain’t playing, what you gonna do when that gat bursts slugs?

Until you see that ratchet show like Bad Girls Club

Nigga, you gonna run to the crib, you ain’t even sort of hard

Talking that Jaz I’ll bring the shell to (shelter) where you live like 40 BARRS

The reason you only making racket over the net like a tennis ball

Is because my style is something that black jack without a deck of cards

I mean, nigga, you stole my setups down to the way I say every bar

That’s why nobody will ever know who the hell you are

How does it feel to steal everything like Aladdin

And it still didn’t get you far? (Jaffar)

So learn how to be your own fucking man, and man up, nigga

I bet you won’t swear to it and put your right hand up, nigga

That’s how we know watching Seinfeld the only time

We’ll see Jerry be a stand-up nigga

Faggot, I showed you how to do a battle with straight punches through

Pay attention, I’m just teaching June; that’s summer school

But he gon’ act like he been rapping like that and nothing was the same

Little shorty, stop, you like 40 Glocc

You ain’t bring no punches to The Game, nigga

Hah?!

Round 2

B MAGIC

You about to witness bars, more than Nine-Lifers and nine cyphers

You couldn’t hang with that Surf, ninja, Rob Schneider

You wouldn’t be fucking with the kid; that’s the Pied Piper

See, this Mitch’ll get smoked like Mekhi Phifer

My nigga, I do the do, I’m a LiveWire

You’ll get confronted with the hawk; I’m Rod Piper

He’ll (heel) lift in this bitch, that’s not stilettos

A big shell stick to his back; Donatello

I’m beast mode, the heat holder, I C4 ya

The street poet, I speaks on it, decode it

R.I.P. Conceited gon’ be leaking with the deceased odor

Have a nigga from New York undercover; Malik Yoba

Call the crime lab, I’m killing me a motherfucker

Take the strap from this nigga like, “this nine mine”

Then kill him with his own shit; I’m John John

You’ll see Magic ring on him like Don Juan

Strap under my Sean John, you gon’ get it bad

Cuz if he buy these new pumps, he’ll be in the bag

My advice, buck a pistol and shoot

Cuz we can fight steel with Steel like Bishop in Juice

Bitch, tuck your tail, better split like the percolator move

Or your lights’ll get knocked out like the circuit breaker loose

If you bugging, you’ll get sprayed, I exterminated groups

Metal talking, Con’ll (Conner) run like Terminator 2

My bars vicious, is y’all with it? Cuz the tech’ll blam

I’m from a place where they killed Mike, you should never land

I’m hot, dog, if y’all grilling, you better scram

I pop-corns if anybody in Con’ session (concession) stand

Get your bars up, MICK FOLEY with this damn nine

Why show a DUDE LOVE if he ain’t half of the man, Con? (MANKIND)

A step away from blowing up, cuz if I land mine

I’m trying to murk niggas, you the first dipping like Cam’ron

Tell ‘em I’m the truth, put steel into his roof

Indiana game, if they saying Reggie, mill will (Miller) shoot

Don’t get it twisted, you’ll get boxed, Duncan Pinderhughes

Listen, go to the whip after making the car crash

Screaming “fuck Con!” pulling Reggie out the car dash

Getting y’all thrashed, whip y’all ass, I’ll bust a slug

A chrome Desi’ll roast Reggie like Buddy Love

R.I.P. I’m killing this shit

Testifying is the only time he lifting the fifth

This Young Gun roc a fella, you ain’t getting the drift?

That mean you hear a MAC, bitch, a milli’ll spit

Who fucking with me? Nigga, not you, for damn sure

What, you gonna go and get the blicky? Clap and pop it?

Or maybe I should split like a banana, is that an option?

Nigga, you punching without landing; you shadow boxin’

I give Reggie the seven; that’s a convict

Then give him the 4 plus the nickel for that nonsense (9 cents)

This 47 get to safety when I palm this

My patriot’s buckin’ near (Buccaneer) your bronco; I’m John Lynch

I’m from where the Lou is, ain’t nothing fairer, Con (Louis Farrakhan)

You don’t want to box for real, look in the mirror, Con

Bird nigga, if the Eagle acting foul, Con

Coming masked up with the hammer, you’ll think I’m Shao Kahn

B motherfucking Magic, nigga

CONCEITED

Y’all know how this shit go

I told him once, this motherfucker scared

I’m from the motherfucking Lou

That’s how this motherfucker play it

You beat up Fox? You heard what this motherfucker said?

You got scooped up and slammed on yo motherfucking head!

I thought I was going to see,

“It’s B motherfucking Magic, the nigga that be dumping ‘em”

Instead, you was holding onto Fox looking like you hugging him

Nigga, you didn’t throw one swing, when you did you started tumblin’

You do all these punches in your battles

Why you ain’t throw no punches then?

I couldn’t believe you got your ass whooped

Like that with a bunch of guys around you

You was swinging like “this,” like it was a bunch of flies around you

Then this nigga was begging for help, but Suge’s ass wouldn’t

Fox had you choked out, you was like…

You know how like when you get that good-ass whoopin’?

Then you choked against Rum Nitty, choked against Big T

I thought, “when is this gonna stop and end?”

In his battles, he be choking so much, I thought he was fighting Fox again

I’m dropping him, he’ll be scared of seeing that 45 like he middle age

Bring niggas to his crib like I’m in real estate

Then run and air in (run an errand) like a had a busy day

I already told you, like Triple Eight

I’ll take the three out; that’s a triple play

It’s in my pedigree to put two caps by his head like Triple H

Isn’t it ironic it’s gonna be morning when he get awake?

I’ll show up and put a cap on that box like Minute Maid

I’ll get the macs out like I’m lifting weights

You couldn’t be next to Con if you were a prison mate

Only thing you ever put the mill (meal) on was a dinner plate

And I’m just keeping it on the real (reel) like fishing bait

But since you acting the way your bitch do, I’ll WEAVE with EXTENSIONS

BANGS are getting sprayed, I’ll get the tech to rise here (TEXTURIZE HAIR)

To make JERRY CURL when a FINGER WAVE

This nigga stay living off me, he a parasite

How y’all comparing us when he ain’t as half as nice?

Cuz in his battles most of his punches don’t land it’s like the Dizaster fight

That’s cuz you throw a zillion wack-ass punchlines

You don’t care if they dumb or not

So how y’all say he’s so cold when his name is June

So we know only some are (summer) hot?

Nigga, I’ll up your guap

I’ma take DIRTY MONEY no matter where your FAITH at

Did he (DIDDY) know I got one twelve (112) and a MAC?

Thinking you a BAD BOY, it should be no BIGGIE for you to TAKE THAT

Your whole team can get “A” cap like a Brave’s hat

After I put the mill (meal) on him like a placemat

Nigga, I’ll dump and pile the cans like Ajax

This little toy that’s hot will be on him; that’s a race track

Cuz I’m the type to make the steel ring like a cage match

For all that rapping (wrapping) them CANDY BARS

I’m loading up every shell

It’ll take nothing but a finger (BUTTERFINGER) to put it all in this nigga (SNICKER); That’s caramel

Your ride can keep getting a round; that’s a carousel

For anything that black said, take out black head; that’s Clearasil

And I bet you that’ll make B leave (believe), like a fairy tale

Mr. Black Magic, I’ll send him straight to hell if I cock the thing

I pack twelve and keep a big ten like college teams

After a round, you going to the corner; that’s a boxing ring

You got destroyed by Charron and Real Deal, this is not a dream

Them white boys beat you with bars on cam nigga, you Rodney King

Honestly, when them hammers are spittin’

You better run, kid, when that can get to grippin’

Because that bitch dump and bow (dumpin Bow) like Angela Simmons

Hah?!

Round 3

B MAGIC

Line his circle up, I put this four up to Con neck

All his family reunion like, “where Con at?”

Clear the building after I make a call; that’s a bomb threat

Con, check, I shoot every tattoo off of Con chest

“Conceited?” You look more like a snitch, what about “Con-fess?”

You’s a bitch nigga that hang with bitch niggas, without a doubt

My Brooklyn niggas said the first time they seen you was on Wild ‘N Out

Who wildin’ out? Magic palming the biscuit

Every motherfucker rolling behind Con is gon’ feel it

Got a pine box in the cemetery, Con should go visit

This bitch is fucked behind these bars; conjugal visit

Yo, step it up, St. Louis a.k.a. the new Afghan

Keep the ratchet on me in the club like a lap dance

You don’t want to see me, you a coward

It’s gon’ be a long ride, so hold on, like Mimi in the shower

False bitch, think I won’t smack you, I’ll hem’ him up

Ike Turner, St. Louis niggas been slapping bitches up

Fuck the guns, we can box and all that

And I kill Con (Khan), feeling like Spock from Star Trek

Give me space, is it my lyrics is just better, Con?

Got a question, what’s with the spiky shoes and the leather, Con?

You wear leather pants with zippers on … never mind

This tech a nine and buckle your cap like a leprechaun

Ain’t no love in hip hop and that’s a fact; Joseline

I’m swinging where a flock of (Flocka) bitches at, want a meal?

You will eat a shell, shit’ll crack

For the bread, I’ll bury those (Burrito) niggas, it’s a wrap

Can you dig it? Shit, I might as well let a Glock touch ya

Got all types of clips in store just to block busters

A west-sider with this green on me

All on the east side high with this lean on me

I say, fuck you, yeah I think Con rapping is borin’

You’ll get clapped for performin’

What you know about the smack and the dormin

You rap, but what gat are you actually palmin’?

I’m in the dump with the metal like the statue of Jordan

But you be dumping? Nigga, your name light in the streets

I got a wild style, and Con don’t like to get beat

You hyping the beast, bullets coming out the can doing him

Just don’t let it go to your head like Brand Nubian

Stake out at your call with the 40 on my waist

He walk in the parking lot, leaving the party finna shake

Bad Boys 2, you know when Marcus daughter finna date?

I meet Reggie at the door and put a 40 in his face

But I’m supposed to believe you dumping that tech

Well, you was about to sit up on another man’s neck

That’s gay, whoever thought of it a fag, yes

But who’s gayer, the nigga who heard it and said yes

Who is it? It’s B Magic, motherfucker the show arrived

Turning y’all schemers into all of y’all dreamers

Pull up with heaters, all in y’all thinkers

Passing them out on stage like August Alsina

I told him once, this motherfucker scared

I’m from the motherfucking Lou this how a motherfucker play it

Beat me? Can you believe what this motherfucker said?

You must’ve slipped, fell, and bumped your motherfucking head

B motherfucking Magic, nigga

CONCEITED

Yo, when I show up at niggas’ pad drawn, it’s not Pictionary

I got a gun that’s so big, fuck a magazine, that shit take dictionaries

I got your bitch on my private like we in the military

And I’m dead going deep in that box like I’m in the cemetery

If you getting away, I be gettin a gauge (engaged) like I’m getting married

Dump and then skirt with the pump like a secretary

I will tell all of my niggas to lift the semi

As soon as I scream “buck it,” (Ice Cream bucket)

Bullets have been in Jerry (Ben & Jerry)

So why would I ever worry about his simple raps?

No URL, but you can get this MAC (the Smack)

That means I got the ten for you (tinfoil) like Reynolds Wrap

So stop the chitty chat, nigga, you don’t lift the strap

And got guns slinging, you got none (Nun) singing like Sister Act

So you like a bottle of patron cuz you wouldn’t lick a cap

I figured that anybody who said he won

Or lost I’ll call them awesome liars

I mean, you thought you were gonna beat me

In this battle and be brought up higher?

Nigga, you burn so much trees, it’ll be Smokey the Bear

He’ll come out when there’s a forest fire

Slow it down! I just dissed you!

I said, it’ll be smokey, the barrel come out & point when the four is fired

This nigga’s always trying, but he ain’t even kind of scary

You can get ate behind bars, that’s commissary

Make your own style, stop looking for the shortcut, bitch, Halle Berry

Nigga, you damn right, I watch cartoons, so?

I don’t care what whoever think, Magic School Bus, Tom and Jerry

Slow it down! I just dissed you!

I said, whoever think Magic’s cool, bust a tom in Jerry

This is something that’s very crazy, it’s something I got to mention

I don’t know if y’all know his fat ass girlfriend Latasha Simpson

Don’t try to tell me, “she ain’t fat, she got a phat ass, nigga”

No, she is a fat ass, nigga, and she looks like a fat ass nigga

The worst part is this nigga’s marrying her

She got two twins that’s not even his, don’t you get it, little nigga?

That means some other cat did more shit to that box than kitty litter

You met them children when they turned 4 though (photo)

You don’t get the picture?

It’s not SMART GUY to raise up twins that are not yours like SISTER, SISTER

Daddy Daycare, Captain Save-a-Ho

This nigga getting mad, he want to grip the blicker

He want to cock and peel

Nigga, you shooting it like you being a stepfather

Even those kids know you don’t pop for real

But if you get close, I’m like a klepto, because I got the steel

Paramedics gonna have to patch things up like Dr. Phil

Nickel-plated mag, penny-plated bullets, you’ll get shot and killed

Like David Blaine, thinkin you street, Magic

I’ll show you how that copper feel (David Copperfield)

On the real, I’ve had enough of it

I’ma pull Magic card no matter how hard you shuffle it

Because there’s nothing but lies in your delivery you feed us

June know he on some other shit

Delivery, Fetus, Juno on some Mother shit

Yo, every nigga you bring with you can get sniped off

I got the stick under arm for any man sent (scent), that’s Right Guard

Shout-out to you even making it on Summer Madness

But compared to me, you got light bars

This is Uno, why’d y’all think this would be a draw for (4)

When I’m the reason it’s a wild card?

Your whole team can hop in the bag, that’s a sack race

You gonna see a lot of big shots, like he’s backstage

Nigga, you can hold the cig like an ashtray

I got two black eights and these’ll (Diesel) be on the Magic

Like when Shaq played

Nigga, the only person you ever put in work with was a classmate

When real Crips see you, they see food and take this crab cake

So I don’t want to hear nothing how your mac spray

It’s like them old-ass plays, we can see them bodies you make up, nigga

Just by looking at Black face

Hah?!

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comments

  • Fender

    Damn this shit sound like its fire!! Where the hell are the labels these days? This shit is crazy!!!

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