[Round 2: Charlie Clips] What's up with all this celebrity nut-huggin' you be doin'? Here's a few things somebody told your boy You used to be on Twitter everyday tryna get a DM from Souljaboy Then you took a picture with Drake All of a sudden he's your favorite Ain't that ironic: Souljaboy and Drake You just did a freestyle to the song "My Nigga We Made It" Stop followin' after celebrities, Con I really hope it's worth the cheddar You got mad and dissed Joe Budden and Kevin Durant ‘Cause they both thought Surf was better Damn! You really my man, so it hurts when I start blastin' him But if you try to get with one more male celebrity Your new name gon' be 'Kim Condashian' You see how I cause disasters, people, when he talkin' that drama? No, I said I'm Dizaster's people: I walk with a llama Let his bitch look like Michelle, let her talk to Obama This dick the bomb, she Spanish I bend Latins over, let her talk to Osama Shout outs to my nigga Swave We both from Harlem. Is this a homi? Yes If I don't get my money, I'm in your crib I be all up in your mommy neck For that green I got every gun from a shotgun to an army TEC For that money, you get stretched for the green like Bonnie's dress I'm freestylin' off the top again, but nigga, they know I could let off 100 bullets, but the cops won't know ‘Cause I get rid of 100 bullets like J-Pro Tell your bitch to lay low, how her neck go? She know how the cum feel, but I had to stop ‘Cause she kept throwin' up like Fresco against Yung Ill I do this shit from the heart no matter the cheddar It was snowin' and I still flew out here I love y'all no matter the weather These bars gon' make this nigga die, he gon' panic forever You know you that nigga When your bars can bring Smack and Organik together!
[Round 3: Conceited] Yo, Clips! Your wife is a whore! That's why she dig how I'm dressin' I mean she's feelin' the fit And feelin' the kid kicks like she's pregnant Nigga, you can get it anywhere: that's Craiglist As soon as I see him I make the TEC spit And I'll let it off on Clips on sight like Netflix Get this, you see, I could be like Gepetto And get this fake boy the long nose But I could also be a carsalesman and give him that 4 though But instead, since you actin', Clips You gettin' this semi like an award show Lord knows I light off steel, period Tell your men stroll, if somethin' hot flashes we might all peel Nigga, I had your wife for real I'm the reason why your broad missin' When I fuck, I make all of her twist That's why she won't let Charles' dick in Nigga, your squad trippin', then I pop chrome You will go straight in a nap like a hot comb Nigga, you know damn well you ain't got the Glock on So what you gonna do then, mark? You won't cap at all, you sweet and you left the stock home In battle rap I'm on the top though Nigga, this is not an even score Your punchline rank is five, mine is one Is that why you think we equal for? Nigga, you have never looked clean before You could tell it's some notes that I spent As far as money, this male good, I could loan you some cents I said I cologne you some scents Nigga, I'll go where he rest, everybody in that place get stretched If they ain't at the house chillin', I'm wherever they at, aimin' TEC's With these three K's he'll be crossfired wherever they hangin' next Nigga, I spray the TEC It's not a flag when I raise up that pole with the red dot like Japan Nigga, you will get more than nicked When these toys start talkin' like "Kablam!" Since you the one I should kill, these'll go into Clips like Kazaam He be the man I click on without havin' to call The shotgun give him a bullet without catchin' a ball Your whole squad could get hit when I'm clappin' it off I'll do it like the store Lids ‘cause I'ma give caps at a mall I said I'ma give caps at 'em all! Hanh?!
[Round 3: Charlie Clips] What's poppin', Con? Oh, let me guess: 'When you got a Glock in palm I'ma get hot rounds for the cheese like Papa John' Nigga, please! If your mother snitched I'm at her door, but not to pop her, Con I'ma electrocute that bitch: I'm tryin' to shock her, Con You got booed somethin' crazy against Hitman The fans was tryna dismiss you And you said: "The next nigga that boo me I'ma slow it down and diss you!" I love battle rap, but this shit's depressin' Half of us ain't grippin' Wesson's, but you know it's bad when we start thinkin' our slogans is a weapon I could see Fox callin' your phone Like, "Nigga, Heartless swung on me in the Jungle! Where you at? I need to hold the pound What kinda gun you got for me?" And you like, "Nigga, I got the slow-it-down!" Is it a MAC? Is it a pump? Is it a Uzi? Is it a pistol? Do niggas die when you slow it down? Like does it hurt when they actually diss you? I'm just askin' you, Con ‘Cause you gotta grow up, I'm not playin' you, Con You bust your hammer? "You ain't got the answers!" Pardon me for per-swayin' you, Con Nick Cannon treatin' you like an outcast How much he payin' you, Con? You not a Big Boi, you got 3,000 for the season I see the André in you, Con But let's get back to the bars though I had to school him, I just wanted to make sure this nigga learnin' See, this my motherfuckin' man But when you step in this ring I become a different person Word to the homie Tyshane I grab the knife, poke 'em, twist and turnin' Y'all ain't seen hawks wildin' like this since Richard Sherman Listen, this is my ring, don't step in here Listen, this is my ring… aw fuck… Sike! I lied, nigga! "Slow it down!" Sike! I… Con, that's the worst slogan that I ever heard Worst thing I did was when you first made that battle And I memorized every word But this what I'ma do, right? ‘Cause this my ring, this is how you gettin' it, Con I said you wanna fight then get invited, the knife goin' into this con No, I said I kick his door down, I enter calm Soon as them shots enter Con, that's the end of Con Talk, I listen, then buzz his top like an intercom Whoever talked threw me off You know that was some bullshit, but I'ma finish, Con You a cheating-ass nigga Every round was supposed to be a minute, Con Go ahead and finish, Con!
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Conceited brings his intricate arsenal of homophonic (words and phrases that sound the same) wordplay and gun-related assaults to bear against Charlie Clips and his impressive freestyle skills, wordplay ability and incisive personal attacks.
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