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lirik lagu b magic vs. syah – rare breed entertainment

[round 1: b magic]
i said, yo
this how it’s gon’ go, n*gga
you gon’ lose, and i’mma win
i ain’t got time to keep going back and forth with n0body’s kids
syah, look, you’ve been a rookie for ten years
man, what the f*ck?
you lost 80 times on 106: you f*ckin’ suck!
check me out
‘cause i rap greater, fresh as a bernie mac taper
when i grip the k, i flip ‘em, hey
catch ‘em? triple h back*breaker
calico (calicoe) all in your chest
b*tch, i’ll pat stay ya
magic got ya bae (bay) goin’ dumb, like i’ll mac dre her
mac*sprayer
keep a bottle wit’ me, like i had a genie
saw your b*tch earlier, n*gga, and she was glad to see me
it’s the same magic
the one n*gga that used to have a beanie
and the hood got my back like a lamborghini
first round, these bars gon’ f*ck wit’ ya head a little
second round, you will die
i’ll give your head a missile
third round will be your funeral, n*gga
i’m fed up wit’ ya
and that’s a 3*0 like kerry kittles
you f*ckin’ punk! i should smack you from afar
while you talking, and then you see the collapsing of ya jaw
i ain’t got nothing but a .45 and a new mac, but it’s a start
play from house party: i keep a couple ratchets in the car
it’s b magic, i’m the king, versus…john john homie
this n*gga literally get battles sayin’, “john john know me”
see, you a temp, i’m with the union like bron*bron homie
you want yo’ k, i got yo’ k (ok) like a pom*pom on me
don’t act hard
n*gga, you wear contacts, that’s g*y, cuz
no real n*ggas around you to tell you that was what g*y was
spray slugs
it’s b magic, you b*tch, i’m showin’ no love
talkin’ how you got your bankroll fresh with no plug
look, you get a four to your lady’s sh*t
tape handy
think of the banks family: i’ll raise a smith
i ain’t gon’ give you my life, n*gga * come take the sh*t
run across your mouth with the chucks, n*gga: my taylors swift
time
[round 1: syah]
aight, bet
my prediction: magic takin’ this sh*t three*zip
every round is a given
this n*gga style is forbidden
fo’*pound, and it hit him
baow! baow! baow!
push his crown through the ceiling
and do my recap:
woo! that n*gga magic took all three rounds in the building!
chicken scratch: i be wild with the writtens
steel hit your grill, whole smile will be missin’
if arp said you look fine, that n*gga shallow hal with the vision
take it or leave it
being quiet is better than speakin’
catch one from the .357, your head’ll never be even
i’m on one, shotgun to his back will push his spinal
pull ya chest out, like j.r. when he won the finals
it’s war time, all my n*ggas ready for combat
you ever see john hand c*ck (hanc*ck), it ain’t a contract
new strap, and this go silly
extended clip, hang low like o’fficial titties! bruh!
long*ass chopper leave your hood rattled
bullets hit your chest, have you losin’ your breath like brizz in the suge battle
i aim for the back of your head, and let the .40 buck
so if you live, the rest of ya life you’ll have the gin0bli cut!
for snitchin’, now you in the hospital, snitchin’ for months
bad, word*for*word like melanie trump
man, f*ck st. louis!
i got mac*11s, ars, shottys, .8s and .9s
b*tch, i’ll put your whole town to sleep like wayward pines!
i’m back wildin’
catch a headshot from the mac*90s
these tecs will sit magic down: n*gga, i’m pat riley!
magic, i know you used to provin’ you iller
black subaru from the villa, i cruise through with the k!llas
these rounds put you to sleep like you 2*on*2*ing with chilla!
let’s talk about it
how you get beat up by fox?
[b magic]
i didn’t

[syah]
you didn’t?
you ‘sposed to get that n*gga frame peeled
i heard he had you in a melvin headlock like, “li’l jody, li’l jody, stay still!”
but you be beatin’ up your girlfriend, though
see, that’s the sh*t i can’t feel
but it makes sense: magic f*ck up tricks because he ain’t real
how you get beat up by fox!?
i heard that n*gga lit you up like a lightbulb
you went to work the next day, your co*workers thought you was on fight klub
how you get beat up*
nah, i’m bullsh*tting
syah, round 1!

[round 2: b magic]
syah, listen…
the iron spittin’ if syah b*tches
n*gga, yo’ big homie is one of my prior victims
what i hold? .223s: i’m scottie pippen
what’s in the holster? i go minnesota, i got the wiggins
who baby cannons? this n*gga get left, mariah trippin’
bring syah horror, i mean it’s sayonara when i slide the clip in
your left side’ll end up on the curb, hear tires squealin’
then your right (write) end up on the wall like hieroglyphics
people’s champ, the greatest of all times
i got a chrome nina, it’s the greatest of all .9s
i’m a king, and i did it from a lot of this hard grind
and i started (start it) to blow up quick as a car bomb
get off mine
man, i bet these two hands jam
got a .40 and a snub*nose * what it do, fam*fam’?
and the .40 follow the nose like toucan sam
when it kick, box a (kickboxer) n*gga thinkin’ you van damme
that’s double impact on impact * that’s sleep*sleep, y’all
i hope he know this cinemax’ll make him gon’ see stars (starz)
who charged your battery? boy, i hope you gon’ see bars
‘cause when you see this dot (dot), i hope you know you gon’ reach god
what, you don’t like that?
i don’t care, n*gga, i’m battlin’ syahboy
give him nine
pull up wit’ the subs quicker than jimmy john’s
n*ggas tryna block my shine, see it’s mini*blinds
pull up to your door wit’ a couple: you’d think it’s senior prom
scratch that
find out where they be matched at, and clap that
ja rule: you ain’t even effective when you clap back
i’ll make sure you sleep in a bag, that’s a (k)napsack
i’ll bag a rapper for them chips: that’s a rap snack
look, who taught you n*ggas how to battle rap?
i don’t just act out bars, i really battle cats
and you get the message off top like snapple facts
and i’m back in the trap like* jersey
[round 2: syah]
i said, “it’s b mothaf*ckin’ magic, the show arrived
but i been chokin’ every battle, i apologize
see, i wanna rob a bank and just monetize
but last time i was fronted some money bagz (bags), it was a homicide”
i accept it * i can k!ll the best n*gga in battle rap, y’all will tell me i ain’t hot still
my stock never gon’ rise, but this glock will!
and if your b*tch walk in front of you, move her, when that shotty blastin’
hit you, and reshape her stomach, when i body magic!
hospital bed, your mind’ll look like you polygraphin’
the tommy start goin’ crazy * you’d think holly naggin’!
if you happen to live, my n*gga, and you partly dead
this ring’ll have you break up wit’ life (lyfe) like karlie redd!
you dirty m*th*f*cka!
i can look at your clothes and just see why
you dress like…denzel in the book of eli!
no b*tches! quasi*no*hoes!
but you pop the steel
ironic, a n*gga named magic can’t even cop a feel (copperfield)!
syah! i’m not the n*gga you wanna war wrong wit’
choppers out, lookin’ for him all day like a p*rnhub clip
bars! we ain’t the same!
i’ll lift the chopper and make it rain!
magic body floatin’ through like criss angel and david blaine!
headshot, knock his memory out * it ain’t a game
without a icloud backup, he ain’t gettin’ his data saved
wait, reverse that
save the data, aim the banger, i get him wrapped up
headshot cloud his memory, paramedics’ll get his back up
y’all got him set to get devoured, i’ll wet him by the hour
.50 jerkin’, like the last episode of power!
man, f*ck magic!
gimme a chopper, and i’ll hop in a hockey mask
show up at the funeral like “abracadabra” and split the box in half!
you got bars though, magic

[b magic]
‘preciate it

[syah]
you just be chokin’ too much
we can’t feel it, fam’
we be like…(*syah gets a look of excitement and antic*p*tion on his face*)…and then you choke
it be f*ckin’ up the snap more than instagram
i’ll run up on you and your kids and let the .50 blam
bow! kids’ll see magic everywhere like it’s disneyland, m*th*f*cka!
syah!

[round 3: b magic]
syah…look…i done had enough of this bullsh*t
weak n*ggas thinkin’ they bars hot
a n*gga that live for a “don demarco” h*rn drop
have you ever been on smack, my n*gga? besides proving grounds?
well, whatever you tried to prove to them then, try to prove it now
i got a long fif’, n*gga
the homeboy had to cop the b*tch while i hold it still
i had to put my back against the wall just to blow the steel
you know the deal * ain’t no play wit’ you, d*mnit
so if you wish a n*gga would (wood), i’mma take it for granted (granite)
i say, you do the math
n*gga, you better read between the lines
it’s in the car * you see how i put the reed between the lines?
heard seven or eight shots
you don’t wanna see me wit’ the .9
nothin’ but punchlines: you don’t wanna see me in my prime (prom)
bars, n*gga, i go for heat
you as p*ssy as ovaries
cross me, i’ll leave you neckless (necklace)
it’ll go from beef to rosary
you f*ck around and get your head iced (head i.c.e), ain’t no controllin’ me
when the .4 sing from the desert like jodeci
n*ggas gonna know it’s me
the homie got the heavy stock in
lots of guns, but the only one i (eye) took, i get the fetti whoppin’ (fetty wap)
your b*tch’ll fly through the air like mary poppins
and i’m gucci on a feature like ‘steady mobbin”
syah gangsta? save that for them other suckas
yo’ hometown got waterfalls like a m*th*f*cka
you’ll get a buck*fifty, i’ll uppercut ya
two arms swingin’ on each side, i’ll double*dutch ya
never trust ya
i brought a couple of minimum*wage n*ggas
hungry for money, so buckin’ the fn to gettin’ ’em paid n*ggas
you thinkin’ i’m comin’ to play wit’ ya?
i hope that you brought you a ‘k wit’ ya
the room shake, give everybody in the room eight (roommate)
this gon’ stay wit’ ya!
i told ’em once, these m*th*f*ckas scared
i’m from the m*th*f*ckin’ lou, that’s how a m*th*f*cka pled
beat me? can you believe what this m*th*f*cka said?
you must’ve slipped, fell, and bumped your m*th*f*ckin’ head

[round 3: syah]
so i read a top 10 battle rap list, right?
and my name was nowhere in it
big sean voice: “whoa there, n*gga.”
’cause we’s about to go there, n*gga
i seen your video, magic
said you gon’ retire from battle rap
i clapped like, “that sh*t’s commendable.”
then you said you gon’ retire to make music
that was the dumbest sh*t in the interview
but no hate * go hard, magic
i think it’s gon’ rain success
nah, i’m bullsh*ttin’ * i think you gon’ have rain success
you took this battle short*notice
i hope you ain’t waive your prep
i wave the tec, cl!ck, bow! send you up to wav’ and prep!
you lookin’ at me like, “he no like”
lead clap, his head crack like cee*lo dice
they said you was gon’ choke, magic
a lot of n*ggas is hatin’ ’cause they mad
two battles this week? you gotta be straight up in your bag
but you remind me of money mitch when his son got kidnapped, it was sad
’cause he died right before he made it to the ave!
beef? i’m all for one!
ready when the war come!
i walk around wit’ two .40s like i’m a doja on a store run
headshot * you better duck from this one real gun
pops a crackhead: that’s yung ill son
y’all rely on magic
now i gotta ride on magic
wit’ three shooters on the roof, i got the chopper
we gon’ slide on magic!
horace grant style: that’s least ’bout four eyes on magic
i ain’t f*ckin’ wit’ you cats!
i’m bustin’ out the strap!
make magic do magic and pull somethin’ out his hat!
magic, hang on the every word
got choppers in everywhurr
tre in his face: spit chris mullin to larry bird!
and you just lost to brixx and bagz: are you heated?
then you came up short wit’ iron: are you anemic?
then you say, “f*ck syahboy. i don’t believe it.”
over your flag, catch five across the chest: pledge of allegiance!
syah…put that f*ckin’ money up!
what’s that? that’s that old syah, that flow fire
that dig deep: that coal miner
that inf’ beam, i’ll strobe*light ya
be frank, i’m gore, i’ll cap a n*gga (kaepernick): the old 9ers!
as usual, you new york n*ggas don’t give me my f*ckin’ props
but in atlanta, i’m the flintstones’ car: i run the block!
syah!

- rare breed entertainment

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