URLtv, Charlie Clips, Brizz Rawsteen - Charlie Clips vs. Brizz Rawsteen lyrics

Brizz versus Charlie! It's gon’
Be a crazy one!
It's a lot of battles on this card
And it's gon’ be ya favorite one
And I ain't gon' play wit' him
I'm gon' leave a hole in somethin'
BAOW! It's gon’ be the cranium
I’ll cave it in you gon' need head wraps
You gon’ look Arabian! Crazy shit
Told his mama I'm gonna put his
Baby in a sleeper hold
You gon' see me breakin' shit
Who callin’ Clips they favorite?
Well, you gon' get ya faces split!

I go against the grain wit' it and
Keep goin' around: I'm 360 wavin' shit!
Smack called, said he ready to book it
Told him I'm ready to cook him
I'ma kill you for every one of
Y'all that said that I wouldn't



That mean I'm cuttin' Clips
Like I'm editin' footage speakin' of footage
Bitch, I have Clips bleedin'
Everywhere before he drop
Now we leakin' the footage
What scrap forgot?
You must ain't seen my scrap wit' Roc
Cause now we in Houston and my Geto Boys
Will give him a Scarface if he Rap-A-Lot
I had to switch it out
Nigga this time the fif' is out
Choppin' on ya shit, chop-choppin' on ya shit
Slow it down like it's chopped and screwed
Chop-choppin' on ya shit, chop-
We roll up with the
SIG up: I'mma Swishahouse!
Houston, I'm flamin' dude
My Slim Thug leave him Sittin' Sideways
Cause the bullets in this tre
(Trae) The Truth i'm talkin' all y'all
My white boy leave ya brains on Paul Wall
He run down on and have him runnin'
From the pound like a lost dog
Texas, I roll with some Outlawz
Like the Boss Hogg
Texas, it's the devil with the Longhorns
Do I ball? Nah no shot clocks or scoreboards
But, I get us in the shot with
A gun long as small forward
I have ya mother suckin' cock on
The hard floor on all fours
Like, "Oh, Lawd!" i came smokin'
I don't want that Clips that came jokin'
I want that Clips that came focused
Two rounds? I can't do shit
Wit' Clips that ain't loaded
My raps is legit
They know my raps is the shit
But, I feel like Drake 'cause
I'm up against a
Nigga only known for half of the clips
(Clipse) y'all better let Clips know
One call to my Texas folk, the TECs get blown
The Fire Stick fuckin' Clips up
Like the Netflix broke! Look around
I got 'em sittin' 'round by the exit rows
The gun ain't petty: it know
How to let shit go!
I brought the Arm and the Hammer
I ain't stretchin' coke!
I put 30 in him: that's how
Ya turn Clips into an extendo
I'm tryin' to get my money right
You know, extend dough
I give this new bitch five shots
But give his ex ten tho'
Smack, you said this was a Texas show
So I came for the big bread like Texas Toast
You pull up
All you see is the pumps like Texaco
Smack, we got no space for this, predictable
Basic shit he fake as shit
Like how he vegan, but Born Legacy weekend
He was orderin' a steak and shrimp?
That's right, that's right, it was me
T Top, Tay Roc, Rain, and Clips
He had a major dish, plate this big i said
"Goddamn! Who the fuck gon' pay for this?"
It don't matter the SIG Sauer get a pig
Slaughtered into bacon bit's
You a gamblin' man, play ya cards right
Save ya chips
'Cause, I'ma light this bitch up
Like a Vegas strip
I piss in ya girl cup and make her take a sip
Right hooks will have more Chins on
The block than an Asian pimp
Ya not gettin' rich!
If Clips get into a bag
It's on chips at the top of the fridge
Y'all know how clips be on the bag of
Chips at the top of the fridge?
Okay, stop with the shit!
You said your whole life
Your moms had you locked in the crib
Playin' the game, sloppy as shit
Never able to speak when the topic is chicks
That's why you 37 years old
And you ain't got you no kids
You a fake fraud fat nigga that hate hard
And yo' fat ass look like you 'bout
Two days from a rape charge
He got daddy issues! But from the world
That's somethin' he wanna safeguard
But, it's the Godfather
And even Al Paci' know you
Will get your face scarred!
I'mma black on all these niggas: I
Hate to pull the race card
Your mans have been demoted
And you can't even control it
The pistol twerk (Twork) in ya mouth
That mean when it's strapped in
It could snap at any moment!
You don't do drugs!?
Your brains will be on Smack at any moment!
Yeah? Brains? Drugs? Smack at any moment!?
I'm so motherfuckin' mean wit' it
I'll bring that shit and do a
Whole 'nother scheme wit' it!
Nigga, ya brains will be on Smack at any-
Fuck it, I'm so motherfuckin' mean wit' it
For a whole seventeen minutes
I'll open your mother mouth and put
The whole fuckin' thing in it!

I said yo
My grandmoms called me the other night
And she said, "Baby
Let me give you some advice
You only as good as your last battle"
I said, "But, Grandma, I won 13 in a row"
She said, "Oh, baby, I know
But the fans are only gon'
Talk about that Ave battle"
She said, "What happened anyway?"
I said, "It was 200 degrees
The AC broke, he choked, i was on-
Long story short: it was a bad battle"
She said, "Well, baby, do everybody a favor
If you not gon' go hard no more
It don't even make sense to have battles"
I said, "So what you want me to do, Grandma?"
She said, "I want you to walk on stage
And look in that snake eyes
(Snake Eyez) like a Math battle
And show 'em I'm O'fficial wit' a big
Head like one of Jaz battles
Hit his whip, make the car flip
It's gon' be his last battle!
'Cause they gon' find him on the Freeway with
No beat like one of Cass' battles!"
Houston, I'm on my shit!
Oh, I'm smellin' it, inhalin' it
MAC, Ruger, 9, pumps, All That
Kenan & Kel'in' it t Top, mind ya business
Or ya head gon' get a shell in it
And you gotta live the rest of
Ya life without Top: nigga, ya celibate
Ask Houston if Brizz better than
Me and watch they say, "Never"
Aye, Loso! You did a Rocket scheme earlier
Cool but, I got one I think is way better
Aye, Houston
Y'all know Charles been playin' wit'
The Rockets in '9-8 my whole team great
Eddie Johnson: it don't get a lot of burn
But, it's a mean eight the deuce-deuce
Make ya soul glide like Clyde
Into a dream state
Then Olajuwon hit 'em while he sleep
And make his dream shake
Nigga talkin' 'bout he got Berettas and
Shoot better than Eric Gordon
You need to stop it, fella
If the Clip fall, Chris Paul
'cause the handle is gon' drop whoever
Nana and Clint: that's two big Rockets
That control the block together
But, if I put Clint in
(N) the center then everything
Goin' acapella (Capela) with these MACs
I'm the one that you call
On whenever you need answers
He had a Rocket, but it fell off
Harder than Steve Francis
I put niggas in comas for
Years when that thing sparkin'
You gon' go to sleep lookin' like Ariza
But, you gon' wake up
Lookin' like James Harden
Aye, Smack, you put me against a crackhead
You don't get a face like that from sippin'
Bacardi and rollin' up spliffs of the Marley
You know my name in London mean "cocaine"
So you was out there sniffin' the Charlie?
And you ain't do it by yourself
I heard you had your
Wife sniffin' it probably
So we can find yay'
('Ye) in ya queen's bridge (Queensbridge)
Like Nas's listenin' party
But, you know what!? I'm over that!
I'm back with that AK and that shoulder strap
Y'all know the one
That's like a ratchet parent at
They kid graduation because it (over-clap)
Nah, nigga, I'm about that life
And I got a new AK, and it's about to strike
And it clap more than a little
Black girl that's about to FIGHT!
Oh, but you want me to rap about a knife
Okay Brizz, don't let Clips get you
Let's not forget
Your machete disloyal and I think
That was a big issue
See, this was a little knife this my wife
But, you can take the bitch wit'chu
See, she not disloyal 'cause when
You give her back
She still tryin' to stick wit'chu
Aye, but fuck a machete and a lil' knife
Let's talk about guns, I like to grip mine
I'm infatuated with hammers
I'm talkin' big time
Like if I call my gun connect phone
And he don't wanna answer the shit? Fine
J Prince Jr, i'm walkin' all through Houston
Lookin' for 6-9! (6ix9ine) round 1, nigga

Brizz clapping the nigga ain't never got no-
Give it up for Charlie Clips, man!
That was good, man that was good, man!
That was GOOD, man! That was mean
Man! That was mean my, my, my, my, my
How heavy is the head that wore the crown
I mean you once was a king
Then you came with these awful rounds
I guess since the game done got watered down
They figured me and the bum Clips
Can go to war for now
You used to rhyme iller
But nigga, now you Godzilla
I say that 'cause you was a monster but
It's been awhile since you tore shit down
After ya loss to Lux
You was in a loss to luck
You lost ya way, you lost ya babe
You even lost a little weight
I figured he had lost enough
The fans said, "Charlie
He don't give us that same feel"
I said, "That's 'cause he lost his touch"
Well, now you on Wild N Out
Well, my nigga, is you bossin' up?
Or are you just another battle
Rapper that's on Nick's nuts? Keep it real
Yo' fat ass still in
That Harlem apartment stuck ya walkin' bruh
Smack send one car to get all y'all picked up
Called his slut she said, "yeah
He fat charlie gut make it hard to fuck
He trash and his bars just suck
He garbage, plus he was doin' so bad
Him and Goodz had to partner up"
Nigga, talk ya stuff
I'm here to spar wit' Chuck
He gotta sharpen up
My aim right on the money
Like "In God We Trust"
I dump the can' in his
Back: he a garbage truck
I don't care what Clips act like 'Cause see
Clips that type that jump the ship
That's right: he left URL to
Go suck Nick At Night!
This is a bitch bull versus a pit bull

When he catch one in the head
You know the Clips full
I show ya how to handle Clips
First you gotta duct tape the handle grip
The machete slip ya top
Then peel him: now he Banana Clips
Yo, I was a fan of Clips!
Goddamn it, we all was fans of Clips!
What I don't understand is this
Every time yo' ass showed up shitty
The fans pull up to Pamper Clips
I want that pullin' them dirty
Clothes out the hamper Clips
I want that fat ass
"Give me everything upon my sandwich Clips"
All that and a bag of chips, and the dip
Quiet Charlie
You fake, don't even try it Charlie
How the fuck is you this fat, and
You been on a vegan diet, charlie?
(You just sucked ya stomach in, too, nigga)
I ain't surprised with Charlie
Char-L-IE: I can see the "lie" in "Charlie"
I'm violent Charlie
I put a knife through the right it'll
Come out the other side of Charlie
He'll survive it hardly
Before it jam, rock, it locks
On all they fam', they not the Marleys
But they still get the smoke from the SIG
(cig) like Rastafaris
My Philly niggas will hop out and
Chase you: you're not Safaree!
My white boys raise arms and got
Some baldies: it's a Nazi party
We ain't playin' wit' him
In Texas you gon' see a mean blade in him
And that shit'll open ya
Dome like AT&T Stadium i told you
I'm givin' Clips the magazine just
For kicks like the Eastbay
It's like the knife keep singin' the
Same song in that weak fade
Cause, I keep bringin' that shit
Back like a DJ it's the stingray
With the sling blade i kill 'em
They can't bring Clips back:
It ain't no replays
Motherfucker, you got jokes and Raw flips
He don't know I'm bipolar
You'll die if Raw flip
I'm on some wire jaw shit
I let this iron off, bruh
The side come off ya, it's sayonara
I'm sendin' big rounds through the
Air like flyin' saucers the animal is back
All they seen is the dawg on
Clips like When Animals Attack
Rogue warrior with the Hawk: Animal is back!
Nigga, I came for the fight
In the damn street
This Zangief, the fang teeth
The knife toss and turn in a
Nigga like it can't sleep
Rappin'? I'm just better at it
I got a resume of better matches
All kings die and tonight
Nigga yo' head detaches
Not only is you losin'
I'm takin' away ya legend status
But to be all the way honest, nigga
You never had it darkside, nigga

I said yo, Brizz Brandon Rawsteen
You is one confused silly nigga
Born in Delaware, raised in North Carolina
But all yo' life
You wanted to be a Philly nigga
You thought you was gonna grow
Up and really get a
Track on Dreams & Nightmares
Wit' Meek Milly nigga? You silly nigga!
Two guns, one in the left, but the bald
Head comin' from the right like Gillie
Nigga! You so fuckin' sad ayo, Houston
You wanna know what got me so fuckin' mad?
(What?)
This nigga beard can't even fully grow but he
Wanna be from Philly so fuckin' bad
My nigga, look at ya sideburns
That ain't even hair, that's a fuckin' scab
If you do go to Philly
I bet you won't step foot
Outta the fuckin' cab
Make me put this knife to ya cheek, Raw
Bring it down, then let the shit poke him
Then I had the TEC
(Tech) 9 black (Blac) in ya face Champion
I'm just jokin'
But, I will throw a smoke bomb in ya
Mother house and have the shit smokin'
Then it's gon' be like a Cortez battle cause
All you gon' see is ya sis' (Cyss') chokin'
Talkin' 'bout how you be in Philly
And you play wit' strippers
And you touch money and you
One of they favorite tippers
You get a little money
Buy some Dutch and a Spade
Now you think you gettin' major figures
Oh, this is why I don't play with niggas
Western Conference, Rockets, Blazers
Clippers if we was in Philly
I'd shoot so good I could've saved the Sixers
But this nigga need to save his sister
Cause Smack hit it twice before
Beasley introduced her to URL
I had her bent over like she
Was tryin' to wipe the floor
My nigga Surf just came home to buy a condom
And he was gettin' ready to pipe the whore
But, I told Surf, "You don't even
Need a condom, because Tsu, she
(sushi) like it raw"
Speakin' of Raw, when you added that to
Your name, did you tell yourself, "Dang
It's awesome"
Was writin' in ya book, graffiti artwork
You used to tag it often?
Okay, Raw, well my pistol whip
Game sick wit' the Mag', it's awesome
I would beat Raw 'til he's sick
Wit' a Cookie like Magic Johnson
Aye, talkin' 'bout you gon' rob me
But wear some hardware if you
Try to take my key
I will give this little nigga 21
And over like a fake ID
Guy in the crowd starts to
Boo clips ain't havin'
It and starts talking back to the crowd

You ain't boo Brizz ONCE when he was shitty!
You ain't gon' boo me, nigga

That REALLY gets the crowd going
Now they're all booing

Got 'em got 'em got 'em got 'em
Houston, listen
I understand it's not everybody
I know half of the crowd
Still fuck wit' Clips
But we gon' play a game
Next time you boo me, you suckin' dick!

Crowd starts cheering

Don't be scared to boo now!
This round 'bout to be crazy from now on

Like I said
Nigga talkin' 'bout he gon' rob me of my work
Tell him to wear some hardware if
He try to take my ki'
I give this little nigga 21 and
Over like a fake ID
My gon' say "Yo, Rawsteen fire
You gotta keep it safe, my G"
I told that nigga I'm two
Levels above Raw: I'm HIV!
Goddamn, I'm barkin'
And the can' is sparkin'
Shootin' everybody in the precinct
From you to Lieutenant and the sergeant
This nigga called my phone
Last week like, "Yo, can I borrow ya gun?"
Talkin' 'bout, "I gotta jam a target"
I told that nigga, "I don't share magazines
I'm Angry Man from Martin"
But, I'm from Crime Square
Where the little niggas on the block
Play on all kind of stoops
These niggas hustle hard in the summer
Sweatin', while losin' weight like
A sauna suit they serve fiends by the tens
They be servin' all kind of groups
Fuck a measurin' cup
We got pictures of the white
Girl like a Madonna shoot
100 shots, Phil callin' up
Who let the mamba loose
Aye, this ya kin, Tay? (Kinte)
Well, you gon' lose all kinda Roots
Fuck Timbs! These bullets is freaks:
They knockin' all kinda boots head shot
The nigga head leakin' all kinda fruit
His melon was everywhere
The crime scene look like Jamba Juice
Y'all can try to hate on the God
As long as them checks come
And don't worry Houston, I'ma rock it
(Rocket) on the next one i got you

It ain't complicated Clips, by now
You ain't figured it out?
You had your own room in the crib
Smack talkin' 'bout kickin' you out
Sittin' you down
Nigga, all you had to do was finish ya rounds
Long road, but you at the end of it now
No matter how much gas he
Might get from the crowd
Is this how you want them
To remember you clown? It ain't all rap
Sometimes you gotta talk to a lame
It ain't all about a loss or gain
It's about every time we cross this stage
It's like we walk through flames
Yep, we still do it, that's called "insane"
First you winnin', it's the fancy
Flossin' chains
Then the losses came and ya head down
Then ya headed down the walk of shame
Nigga, one bad shot can cost the game
Hollow killed you
I watched Lux cause you pain
Never thought he'd let the world
Know ya mom's real name
Never thought he'd show the world
Paperwork with ya father's name
But, I'm guessin'
These things just the cost of fame
Cause you had love and lost it, mayne
Now Nick Cannon ya boss, that's strange
'Cause he could've told you Love
Don't Cost A Thing!
Nigga, cut the lies and shit
You can't lie to Brizz
You let the world think DNA was ridin' ya
Coattail and really you was ridin' his!
DNA, these niggas not ya friends
He couldn't wait to let us know it was
Him who gave you a spot to live
Remember when they used to let you sleep
On the couch and beg ya
Bitch to let you sleep in the
House like 'Pac and BIG?
Nigga, this that arm long as Olajuwon
Houston Rocket shit
But the arm spin wit' the shot like Dominique
They used to watchin' Clips
Even a couple bootleg niggas who copied Clips
I'm cut, pastin' and croppin' Clips
You know, takin' him out the pic
Now who will vouch for this?
I wanna know how come this coward
Just stood and watched the
White boy give ya man the
Beats like The Alchemist
Shout-out Hoffa, bitch!
I should take Math 'matic and subtract
Yo' ass: it ain't calculus
But, if it was I'd probably
Know where yo' houses is
'Cause calculus, well
That's the study of findin' property
See, I got that from math
Not Hoffa, the class
You the type of rapper to get shot in the ass
You a Wal-Mart, Paul Blart cop and a half
And you don't know nothin'
'bout coppin' a half
You 'bout a 49 waist tryin'
To squeeze into 39-and-a halfs
You a fat nigga
Usin' the soap that never wash wit' a rag
I got a problem wit' that
It's the black God
Chief of the Tribe of Shabazz
You better make good use of the
Little time that you have
Or I'ma make you the next famous
Bitch found drowned in a bath
RIP whitney, Houston
You done came down a country bro
Long shottys, rusty 4's
American Dream, drop him: Dusty Rhodes!
This baby will sniff him out
Dawg: it got a puppy nose
Tell ya man Goodz he better cool it dude
I put the 9 to ya baby face
(Babyface) like this is for the Cool In You
This is a crock of shit
And y'all watchin' this
He think I came to talk about
How his pop a snitch
And how he told more about
The game then Gregg Popovich
Nah, it's more about you
Fuckin' up your accomplishments
How you was in my top 10
Then you dropped a bit
Then just dropped from it
Nigel shot you some good advice
You should've followed it but, you died
It's ironic: they were Hollow tips
Can you see it?
After tonight they won't care about you
You had heart, I'm here to tear it out you
I pistol-whipped yo' ass
Yeah, I bring the strap 'round his
Head like a pair of goggles
They gon' try to defend dude
Before I go, third round vs
Lux, when you said, "Y'all wanna talk
About my pops bein' a snitch? Well
His pops is a snitch, too"
Right then I said, "This
Nigga prolly a snitch, too!"
Why you mention dude? Darkside, nigga

Y'all liked the way he talked to me?
Aight, now it's time to talk to him
NOME 8, this my closin' verse
Like fuck a casket
Throw this bastard in the back
And just close the hearse
Every time Brizz mother open
And close her shirt
It make a nigga wanna go berserk
And just put it in if you wasn't stuck in T
Top's shadow for so long
Just imagine what ya coulda been my nigga
You have been on more teams than Robert Horry
Brizz, becomin' ya own man is not hard
It's like you was leading
Darkside to the light
Then you reversed the whip
And joined Dot Mobb
Then when Dot Mobb was losin'
Control, it's like you
Jumped out the whip to join another group
You was tryin' so hard to
Swerve outta that Rex lane
That you crashing and still ended
Up under Murda Mook
Then you figured, "Nah, let me change lanes
'Cause the insurance is looking better
Over there with Cave Gang"
I don't know if leavin' Dot
Mobb is that Progressive
But joinin' Tay Roc squad is the same thing
My nigga, stop talkin'
Before I paralyze you and you stop walkin'
Let me ask you this: what is your profession?
You a team-hoppin' nigga that don't bust guns
But claim he hold the weapon
Now I know why you put Raw in ya name
'Cause you ridin' these niggas
Dick with no protection
Oh, it's time to go night-night

I could bar ya life away
But me and Suge wanna know what ya life like
'Cause nigga
Your soul more fucked up than Lil'
Bow Wow's in Like Mike
Oh this is the part where we bow our heads as
Brother Brandon Brizz Rawsteen soul is
Prepared to leave us
And I heard you don't believe in God
Cool, 'cause we can still
Play "Swear to Jesus"
My nigga, swear to Jesus, you love Dot Mobb
And you respect that group whether
They dead or not
Nigga, swear to Jesus you love Tay
Roc more than T Top
Cause Cave Gang put ya career
In a better spot my nigga, swear to Jesus-
Look at T Top like, "Okay, king
Ya better stop"
My nigga, swear to Jesus if they was
Fallin' off the roof right now
You would hold Tay Roc hand instead of Top
Look at him, he tryin' to think about it
"I ain't gon' lie y'all
That was a close call but, you know me
I'm Brizz Rawsteen: I'll let 'em both fall"
See, the problem is
Ya Lifestyle revolves around
Grabbin' a Magnum
And that's why I be sayin' you
Be doin' the most Raw
See you can have the Power but by the time he
(Tommy) realize it the stupid nigga
Done let Ghost fall
And that's why this nigga here is Tariq
Oh here is some information I
Wanna provide for you
Y'all remember when Hitman and Verb
Was gon' fuck him up?
T Top was ready to slide for you
But what you didn't notice was
Rain jumpin' in the middle
My nigga Rain was ready to ride for you
And that's why I call you Tariq 'cause
Ya stupid ass ain't even know Rain'll
(Raina) die for you!
Ayo, Houston! We got a problem!
I should let the chrome rise
Head shot, if he survive
He gon' wake up thinkin' we at NOME 5
Talkin' 'bout you puttin' bodies in
The bag like hash browns and you startin' to
Believe ya own lies
Head shot, I give your dome five
And nobody in the crowd heard it
'cause I'm seasoned wit' the
Potato like home fries
Now it's a wrap, if Nina kiss you
You won't get a chance to kiss her back
All these Gs in ya Unit
And I still bet 50 that
You won't Get The Strap!
Listen SMACK, is this nigga from Delaware
He can lose his Apple if I grip the MAC
Survive? How can he
(Kenny) when this Smith ain't
Never sit with Shaq
Stop talkin' through my rounds
About this and that you battled O
But couldn't put ya hands on
Red like a Twister mat they said I fell off
Always wanna question my legacy
I figured that
When I beat legends like Serius
Jones and Iron Solomon
I don't know which one was the bigger match
But, I gave Jones and that Jew L's
(Juelz) on Cam' like a Diplomat
Aye, Calicoe!
Don't worry, I'mma get you soon
But before I end this verse
RIP to my nigga Boon
You thought it was over!? This nigga
Gotta be the biggest fool!
'Cause, I brought the biggest tool
Revolver: six spin through eight
Like it's middle school
Go 'head and brush ya waves
I let the cannon ball in them
Shit's like a swimmin' pool
They said I fell off
Well, I guess NOME 8 got
Me in a different mood for real now

It's my turn! Yo!

Oh, alright now that's a 2-1!