URLtv, Charlie Clips, B Magic - Charlie Clips vs. B Magic lyrics

So they call you B Muthafuckin' Magic
But, your real name is June I
Just wanted to get it clear
So y'all got me battling a nigga named June
While we end June on so many levels
This battle isn't fair
‘Cause if I squeeze ratchets
It'll be magic the way June disappear
I'll slap the shit out of
You every day in July
I'm trying to knock June
Into a different year
I dare you to walk through my hood
Let's say, around June, tryin' to say "Hi!"
Them goons on the corner
Cold as December, you better say bye
I brought a four, named her April
I hold that bitch yay high
Squeeze April, a bullet march in June
And then he may die
I said, June, May, March… whatever
I know it's extra scary

How I come up with these schemes
But, I need another month
To make it legendary
I should walk you to the
Roof and make you leap
Yeah, but that ain't necessary
I'll do anything to make
Black history that's February
Wait, did y'all get that? Did y'all get that?
Black History, leap year
Like when you extend February
Show y'all what a queer he is
Like he was born in February
The deuce'll give him one
Like it was trying to begin February
But the two-two'll give him eight
Like it was trying to end February
I said, nigga, your name June
That gotta make you mad, magic
You named after a month you
Wasn't even born in that's so sad, Magic
I'll run in your house while
You fucking your bitch
Load up that mag, Magic
You'll die while doing that trick now
That's bad magic
Your style ain't been hot since
Shaq was in Orlando
That's why you ass, Magic
They know you gon' die, your whole career
You've been known to pass, Magic
These labels giving you no
Looks, ‘cause you trash, magic
Oh, you sick? Well, nigga, it's hard to tell
You're like the last Magic
Your career is ass backwards

You started out spitting that heat, dog
You was the man in the Proving Grounds
Now your career is on a see-saw
The only nigga he bodied was Rosenberg
After that, he took a detour
So I got a question
Why y'all on Magic johnson
If all he could do is beat Raw?
But now y'all wanna give him Charlie Clips
Well, this a bodybag y'all can blame on me
See, he was riding, y'all had him gassed
But now his tank on E
I got a new TEC, no duet, but it sing on key
I'll rock him, like Sean Carter
And put a ring on B
Magic, I like you, but you should recycle
‘Cause every battle is the same trash
You got these fans under your wing
But this the plane crash
You put in all that work against Tay Tay
With your lame ass
And then let the Roc get rid
Of you you Dame Dash
With this 40, I aim, blast that's a caliber
These bullets large
You should dodge that's a Challenger
I give 'em 30

You ain't even know it that's a silencer
It'll put June in a box that's a calendar
I said, these bullets'll go through everybody
In your house when that tool flare
They'll start off in your bitch
But they'll end in June, like a school year
If they happen to survive
Then I'm picking up another tool
Shoot him first, now they start in June
Like summer school
Whoa, look, that was ahh, but peep this one
I got a shooter named Twiz
Right? He nice with that canon
Peep the way my G roll
I tell him edit your life
Then he giving you tubes no VEVO
I tell him cameo, he give a face shot
You get a peephole so if Magic acting tough
These clips'll make B roll
Aye, look, I'm not an oldhead
I just like to make the young feel wack
I'm on my shit, this the
Flow that made Verb chill, smack
They saying Ill on drugs
If that's a one real fact
Then these cocaine lines should
Bring Yung Ill back

I said yo
I will pop on a mark ‘cause my set go
Jump around and get beat fast like techno
When I re-release these two threes
It ain't retro
Walk in the place with the blazer on me
Like it's dress code
TEC's blow, jump and cap a nigga: step show
Get blunt objects across your
Mouth: let's smoke
I got something in store for you, dog: Petco
A liter of blood will run out him
Like Death Row
I said yo, Magic hands on, like a palm reader
No stunting, I'm upfront with it
Like the line leader
Grab the 40, smacking a magazine with it
Like Don Diva
Hop out the crowd with the steel
Like John Cena
Clips, these rounds don't come
With a timekeeper
What I carry'll leave him red
I'm in my prime yes, Carey, leave him red
Prom – my rhymes deeper
Chilla Jones strapped in C4
I'm a bomb schemer
Look, I'm at your crib strapped
Chillin' with your boo, we in
Ash Kash lovin' it, she damn near moved me in
Heard the front door open
Charlie and his hooligans dump at 'em
He ain't get a chance to
Guess what room we in
My bad, I ain't tryin' to force it
I spit sick, something magic
Think I had a fuel card how I
Grab a pump and flash it
And it stretch marks
Like card girls at Summer Madness
And I ain't tryin' to settle
Down when I'm dumpin' ratchets
What, this ain't going how you planned
Nigga?
Let's say you argue with a Calico, like Hanz
Nigga you can get your whole team homi'ed
Like Amzilla

Wouldn't make it to the AM with a transmitter
See, with them Disney-ass bars good luck
Charlie! Factz said, "I heard you had
Boosie, " I said, "Fuck Charlie!"
I'll put some shells into Clips
If he need the slugs
We'll come with open arms, like he need a hug
See a thug, understand, my peeps, we deep
Clip'll take the steel and pass, like CP3
If the first strap don't make
This nigga see we G
I'll bring out another bad creation, like BBD
Catch up, homie, I'm leaving you
You gon' need this work
It's a wrap in front of these caps
Like T and Surf i mean
This iron'll do more than crease your shirt
These clips just right for you
Like DNA when he need a verse i say
So Beas' told me that
Charlie Clips wanna fight
The nigga you said who smoked feet?
You know who you calling, right?
Yeah, Magic, but chill
This always been a part of Harlem life
Remember? Quick even did it in Harlem Nights
Set it up, hung up, thought of some mean shit
Like Clips gon' come before the Smack
Like DreamWish
You better take cover with the sweeper
Like Teen Witch
Or you'll be done 'fore the third
Round on some Qleen shit
Okay, so you Charlie Clips who bars
Is piff and very potent
Well, now you looking at a
Nigga who do heavy smokin'
Steady loc'n, run shit Jesse Owens
He got wheezy after a hook
Like Kelly Rowland