URLtv, Danny Myers, Chef Trez - Danny Myers vs. Chef Trez lyrics

Yo, how the fuck is this a look for me?
My stock higher, what's in store?
A youngin' givin' an old head a shot
This The Wire you are not ready, we
Ain't teammates no more, do not test me
But, if we was
You would've got this beatin' down the
Block like a boxed Chevy
All them children you got
And you think you can son
Me to add a blessing?
Well let me add a lesson, ain't an adolescent
Nigga got ten kids, you want
Another boy? Well here, mAC-11
Buckle down, the deuce? Compact
But this photo, fuckin' wild
You'll get your vehicle flipped
Now you gotta get it fixed
Peep the double clown?
Two, photo, vehicle, fix, let me dumb it down
That's you in a hospital


Having to recoup so Dan
(Sedan) gotta recover now
When shit went left, right
I stayed down 'til I came up
I am a cheat code, jackpot
He seen more rounds than a damn casino
Reload the clip
But this batch legendary Dan DeVito
Try to run in Florida, but I caught a bat
(quarterback) Dan Marino
Fuck Danny, catch him in South Central
Squeeze and shoot
You point the deuce then I point the deuce
Let's make a sequel too (two)
Keep it cool, send him to Heaven's gates
Make sure he reach it too
I mean I used to look up to Danny
And now I've got more reason to
When you mention me
Don't say "rookie" cause my warning shot
Meaning your top gettin' grazed bully
Right down the middle, split a bald head
It look like shaved pussy
You rap random shit, and the fans and shit
Love what you do i'm direct and real
I could get sent to rehab for substance abuse
Watch how I do you worse
Mom and daughter box right
Next to each other
You gotta talk to them through the dirt
Side by side
Now try to escape that parallel universe
I say this nigga done, as far as love
He ain't gettin' none we both brothers
But I'm my mother different son
Quick to get a gun they say he the target
Be with the shit or run
Code word: Clifford, leave dawg
(dog) covered in red
Copy, BLAOW! Mission done
Y'all say Loso is my best showing
Am I gonna snap against the Bar God
Well if you seen my Loso work
You would know I had to literally out bar God
Get ya body broke
Think it's gon' be a classic match
I wish you would spaz for any fightin' words
If you Loaded with Verbs you need a good cast
Where your hood pass? Nigga been
Bitchin' tryin' to find home ya stock low so
(Loso) , i see why you in all
These different type of Rhymezones
You tryin' to get ya groove back
Old school cat
Well I seen it all from drugs to tools clack
Even positive shit was hard to do
Playin' ball had nowhere to shoot at
No full courts, just one hoop
Nino in New Jack
And that parallel universe shit?
I been through that
My mans was on the outside puttin'
The tre to nigga's noodles
I was on the inside raisin' the
Tray for a soup pack
Question: if I shoot is you gonna shoot back?
You send TECs
(texts) , we all send TECs (texts)
This shit is a group chat
First two, boom bap third round, move back
Extended, take it from a snippet
To a loop track i'm where you can't kill
Ain't nothin' you say real
Try to get in my way, chill
Talkin' Super Fly I'll push your
(pusher) man to the side Curtis Mayfield
Break in his house, in and out
He thought he seen a demon
Put the 40 to his bitch but the thirty eight
(ate) his kids like the queen of England
You'll get the head shot, red dot, Red Fox
This, comin' with a clear case Redbox
This bitch lit
The clip twist like a dreadlock
The clip and grip
Together they stick together wedlock

I'm cold now, and I was cold back then
You said MAC-11? I'll have some
Inglewood Bloods pull up
On you and hit you wit' the MAC-10 (Mack 10)
And fuck yo' people too
I'll knock you on the ground
You used to look up to me
Now you got a reason to! Bar God!
First of all young nigga, I'ma
Bar you to death, but peep this other shit
I got 10 kids and don't see none of ‘em
And every night I cry because of it
My wife is strugglin' with addiction
That's my karma from all the hustle shit
Plus I'm 39 and still battle rappin'
I ain't the one you wanna talk struggle with
But here's what you'll
Struggle with, Shotgun
Then it's the small mag turn
This shit'll have you swirl on ya
Heels like the Jamal Mashburn's
You just now puttin' highlights in ya dreads
We don't do that shit where I'm from
This new generation, always wanna die
(dye) young look here lil' nephew
Ain't no punk in this one
See how got that ahnk on ya eye?baOW
Now you got unk on this one
You got the height, and the reach on me
Of course we can dance
I'll just have to spear you
Then I'll have Ryda stand behind
You in the Scorpion stance
I stopped in Compton
I saw my gun plug for the hammer
Now I'm here to address
(a dress) a Young Thug from Atlanta
When you was with Writers Bloque
Yo' pen was seemin' legit
Ever since you got in the
Cave I seen The Descent
The Mossberg'll ventilate this cat
That's not a hole in ya chest bitch
That's our generation gap
Four bar set ups, versus line for line
Nigga you can't match this rate
I'm known to historical black
Fuck anything Jackson State
Clap the 8, I gotta spaz on fam'
The way he was shot
Them Hoop Dreams gone look bad on cam'
Keep losin' watch ya crew depart ya
They got a west coast nigga with this
Chef bitch like Snoop and Martha
Remember we was in Memphis, and you
Had yo' gun on the dresser
Talkin' 'bout yo' lost ones and
How you mourn em?
I was thinkin' 'bout grabbin' it
Being a good friend and helping you join ‘em
But this still a shot
This battle is uppin' ya stock
It hurt me when you joined the
Cave and jumped from the Bloque
Now I feel like Nino on the roof
Cause, I'm sick that I gotta kill my
Own lil' bro for fuckin' with Roc
(k) , BLAOW!
Tay Roc, you put your favorite in yo' shadows
But, you out heresee see
(CC) I'll just save it for the battle
That's light my nigga Big Money used to
Steal from his own family
I told buddy he should stop
One day his dad's rent came up missing
And he went running for the Glock
Do you believe in a Parallel Universe? I do!
I cried on his casket and it
Comes to me as shock
Cause right after his dad killed Money he
Found the Money in a box
That sickness you livin' with no joke
That's just the realest shit to cure it
You'll need a stomach shot and
I'm here to deliver it
Let's get deliberate, you rep yo' hood
You and yo' thugs mobbin'
But, it's funny how none of them Bloods
Can help you with yo' Blood problem
You been sick ya whole life
And y'all said this boy can hang?
He was throwin' up Blood way
Before you joined a gang
I point and bang, you can die from the Glock
Or from this poignant slang
Cryin' about Summer Madness
You went from gangsta to annoyin' lame
This ain't about comp', this about jealousy
And I been seen it
So I gotta black on Jackson like
Mike before the skin treatment
You pen weak shit
And you on the ground with this shit
This wack MC got another 2
Rounds of this this shit yikes!

Yo, you said a whole bunch of nothin'
Same shit as every battle
That's why you the Bar God in this
Sport but honestly you don't even matter
See that gangsta shit you talkin', you could
Really see the TEC fly from Chef
Split him in half this MAC-10
(Mack 10)
No pieces from the Westside'll Connect'
Fans tellin' me he ain't ready
He says nothin' wild
A buncha nerd shit, dumb ass word flips
His stupid fuckin' style
All that duckin' clown
Felt like you was givin' me the runaround
Said no to the big stage
But accepted the small room
Like the youngest child
You really want me to target you off the
Rest? Single you out when squeezin' a round?
Well it's you that I'll test
I'll put a gun from the right side
But then it'll shoot out his left
That' 2Pac
Came from the east but blew out the west
This man frail shots turn him into a bitch
You know how I can tell?
Cause hollows had him hollerin'
Soon as they hit him we heard Dan yell
(Danielle)
The gun got a body and it got a body
So don't be the one that I gotta body
Ask Loso, I already sent God a body
When I lift up, gotcha name on it
This shit a fan sign
The gun pointed right ya way
Blew out his damn mind
I can't step in ya court
Think that, NBA man dyin'
The bullets headed to ya Wiz'
I can update a Franchise
We can fight, I'll take a jab at him
I'll get a knife, slash his
Lungs, or two grips, i can blast the gun
40, 30, that 70's Show I doubt Danny matters
Son (Masterson)
I'll slide on his block in a foreign whip
The dot like a Christmas tree
When I shoot it off
And I'll hop out that bitch and put
You next to the sheet rock
Am I losin' y'all? Well since you like anime
I'ma put that in cartoon for y'all
Jumpin' out the Phantom with the green beam
I'll put Danny through the wall
I do numbers with these guns
What I'm tryin' to say bro, 45 or 50
I can raise or drop one
What's ya weight goals? I keep one 9, one 40
This shit a safe code
And I'll put a pound to one like a gate code
I need that Summer Madness plate
This just a warm up
I couldn't focus before much
My mental was worried about real
Life and some more stuff
And that'll have a rap
In many different states, like a tour bus
But when you think about the names I faced
It's like Smack tried to sit me down
But, I stood my ground and
Made every appearance count
I ain't lost a round yet
In these small rooms, clearly clown
I went from Volume 1 to Volume
4, if y'all couldn't then
I bet they hear me now
Let's level up, when I reach for the arm he
(Army) better move militant or
Get his grill torched he seen the latter
Now he jumpin' in between rounds
Like a drill course look soldier
Why you cross my path and
Step on my foot for?
I'm just speakin' in general
But any flogging will get
Ya cap pushed forward
I tried to imitate ya style, but while doin'
The shit, I had to quit legit
Dawg I felt stupid as shit
Battle rap is ya life
Well let me step in ya world then
Your life revolves around three rounds so
I bring a revolver around
Ya life and three rounds will
Make ya world bend i'll squeeze the shit
You don't hear a squeak and
I don't speak of it
I present a gun with a silencer
I literally plead the fifth
If I release it quick
He tried to dip but bro too late
Chopper, 100 rounds
The drum stick on a side
Like a soul food plate this dude all hyphy
Not even nice it had me threw off highly
The Bar God? He doesn't lose y'all writing?
You should be blessed for me even
Lettin' you talk by me
Now I gotta black on God
I'm Morgan Freeman in Bruce Almighty
You gettin' buried today
You swear you droppin' knowledge but we
Don't care what you say
It's too far fetched, nigga every Jim carried
(Carrey'd) away

You got on AngryFan and said "Nigga
Fuck you" on some young shit
I helped "3 of Them Thangs"
Get to where it is, now yo' gun gripped
Plus the hood that you rep
Is from my city lil' nigga
Now that's two things the West gave
For you to run with
Go to yo old battles, look in the comments
Who said you was next up? And you snaked me
John John tried to help build you up
And you snaked him
Then you left Writers Bloque
That's why I don't fuck
With you scary leeches
Once we saw the cross
You were placed behind Roc
(Rock) that's how they buried Jesus
You gone fall out with yo' crew
And Tay Roc takin' the blame
Cause he shoulda known you can always
Find a snake in a Cave
Called me a old man, that's true
Been rappin' since at least ten
But at least then to be nice you
Had to have an elite pen
I'm from the Golden Age
Where you had to be rappin' for progress
I'm trapped in my era
But Atlanta niggas trapped in the closet
Back to the topic, all that gang shit
That's from the coast nigga
Too much brim, get you socked in the face
Ask Dose nigga you know what y'all "Chef
Life" niggas be doin'?
Bootleggin' Pay Per Views
Y'all ain't cockin' a pistol
I ain't gone lie SMACK
I be on there watchin' it with ‘em
But when you give 12 thousand to
The culture all for yo' penmanship
I'm supposed to get a
URL Pay-Per-View Lifetime Membership
Let's end this shit
I run up on this switchin'
Bitch with the extended clip
I'm in front of the Chef and only see
(sea) food, that's Fish 'N' Chips
Chess got your triple your views
They really don't mess with Trez
You was supposed to be one of
The Young Guns like Emilio Estevez
But, you dealin' with death instead
This ain't no friendly or no happy shit
We ain't supposed to have guns, but we still
(steel) cop on some Chappie shit
I'll slap this bitch
I dare you to put yo' hand out
I was thinkin' 'bout giving Jackson 5 but
The solo one is the standout
You always sayin' "Nawf" "Nawf"
Nigga we know you 'bout that life
Bitch it's north
And I'ma beat you 'til you pronounce it right
I'm down to fight
Watch how quick you catch this counter right
Cause you represent "Mumble Rap" and
All you niggas sound alike
It's goin' down tonight
I'm here to take back my stage
I got the 30 and the 9 it's time I act my age
Look at the names you under, Roc, Ave, Brizz
Nigga ya role minor
Ya career got lost in the
Cave like a coal minor
You in and out of jail
You got a short temper, extreme violence
Beam on top of his head he needs guidance
I don't need silence
We breakin' through ya window seal
Somebody gotta hear this pain it's
Got that demo feel
It don't get mo' real, we at his do'
My whole crew shook him niggas excited
Outside the entrance like new pussy
Fuck you gone do pussy? You'll bleed on
The blade until it's real sticky
Y'all won't believe the tone comin' out
This nigga like Lil Bibby
Deal with me, from the shoulders
Catch my punch nigga
Y'all won't remember "The Chef" after
The Deck like 'Triumph' nigga
I don't like young niggas
And you on the ground with this shit
This wack MC got a whole
'nother round of this shit yikes!

Yo, you be yellin' and shit
I just get busy my nigga we spaz different
You got a bald head since you was ten
I been shootin' bald heads outta MAC-10
Nigga the pass different my buzz crazy
Smoke week, but you get the low buzz nigga
You on drugs daily matter of fact
Let me just switch that and blast Smith &'s
Cause you said somethin' 'bout
"Math" and "brim" or the brim and the Dose
Well pull my numbers and you will
See that the Math different i go crazy
I beat you the first two rounds
Now I can freestyle shit
What's Writer's Bloque? Shit you get
When you hang around him
Aye, but Writer's Bloque was that squad
Huh? We all was killers
But me, Magic, Nitty, Daylyt
Shit even my dawg Chilla
All the niggas with a million
Views in a single battle
You never saw them figures we brung mils
(meals) to the Bloque (block) you was
Just eatin' off of niggas
Let's get it straight
Real niggas respect those who earn shit
But, you bein' foul
I'll have no choice but to compare it
(parrot) to some bird shit
You named yourself "Bar God" and that's one
Of the reasons we don't like you
You think you Jay-Z
Givin' yourself your own title (Tidal)?
You said you was 39? I let
40 hit you before your birthday
That nigga age quick
Let's get more witty tho' the semi blow
I'm hit DM wit' a clip like "Share my video"
Fuck whatchu tellin' me i got a six shooter
The barrel look dirty and rusty
It been through hella beefs
It's a 38 I let it speak
It look old wit' a wide nose
That's the closest to Lux and
Mook you will ever be
Look at him! Up here lookin' nervous, figures
I'll pistol whip him, he
Can't guard the handle
I'm Kyrie Irving mixture
Nah, what I draw legendary
It paint the perfect picture
Nah, this ratchet leave DM red
(read) she known for curvin' niggas
You a fake nigga, ya block lit
You from South Central
I know where you stay nigga
You was wit' the Boyz n the Hood but
Always hopped out when shit got real
You be Tre (betray) niggas
I say so fuck if they tough on yo' block
You pussy witcha scared ass
When you even mention some gang shit
For a set you ain't never let ya lead blast
But y'all don't gotta question what I am
Or you'll be dead fast
Just pay attention to the signs
It'll raise a red flag
You was playin' fightin' games, knife games
Usin' Zelda blanca
I was wit' niggas and bitches
Wit' mob ties, Al Capone, griselda Blanco
Nigga fuck all that made up shit
I know dawg a coward
You like books bro? Well I know
Some that'll have you for hours
Like you ever read 'The 48 Laws of Power'?
Nah, I mean he get out the 40
8 he at a loss of power
I'm on Satan fire when I'm mad as shit
I go against the Bar God
The Devil's advocate
This weapon, blastin' it
I let 'em noun for the tough
Adjectives for the bad language
I got AR's, AK's, come learn about acronyms
You start somethin' in one round
Then end with another, that shit dumb
I am a fuckin' delinquent
So if I start with one round and end
With another it's cause I switched guns
But this kick? Ridiculous when
I'm aimin' wit' this power I won't miss shit
It's a hit, every time
Like I'm singin' in the shower
It's a lullaby, gun in his face
Soon as he stutter- lull a baow!
Nah, I say I don't got a blazer
It's a knife so if you slack
I'll be at your neck cuttin' ties
They like, "What kinda knife you got
Trez?" They thought I
Was lackin' cause I ain't clutch the 9
So I had to wing it with somethin' smooth
It's a butterfly
I'm takin' this shit serious man
I can't let him murk me
You can never hurt me, I
Was goin' through crazy shit
I'm talkin' 730
The laws and real struggles was
Doin' me hella dirty
Holdin' me back, but Danny
I just wanted my freedom in
Life I'm Eddie Murphy

He said somethin' about uh
Boyz n the Hood Tre mmmh, you betrayed me
I thought you'd be boys with me
But, I guess this shirt right
You can't manufacture real loyalty
You got in this game when you was 16 and
Hit a point I was certain you would reach
We have a tendency to herald
(Harold) Minors (miners) when they
Workin' with some Heat
Plus you think you "Baby Jordan"
And when y'all do that, y'all become targets
You'll be in the shadows if it's 2 23's
(223) like his son Marcus
These ain't bars bitch
These are paragraphs of strife
It's funny how you wanna give John 3
16's but won't have Everlasting life
You beat the Christian, no mercy
It was wild disturbin'
This gone be a negative image of the
God like the "Shroud of Turin"
I stood before a thousand wordsmiths
Left ‘em speechless
They think they cold war vets until
Their placed into the vortex
You's a whore Chef, jump crew to crew
And you ain't the lead
You got on Live and said
You make the leagues, but, you rap cause you
Couldn't make the league
You're all make believe
That's why I keep somethin'
That'll lift the kid
I'm tryna put a Springfield inside of
A dome like the 'Simpsons' did
I watched you write whole
Battles in 30 minutes
I don't like this Cave bitch
How the fuck does a "Chef" come
With all this microwave shit?
You spit yo' best bars on
Gates Of The Garden
But I'ma nigga you can't make quit
Tonight San and Dre is
(San Andreas) at fault you can't shake shit
Cave Gang, this y'all New Edition? the nigga
Ain't worth a red cent
Y'all shoulda seen the 'Sensitivity'
Every time Trez vent (Tresvant)
But 'A Man Like Me' became a legend
Because I be consistent
It's gone be the Cave behind the
Fall like a secret entrance
Get decommissioned
I live by the street values
If I shoot you with a silencer
At this event it'll speak volumes
Versus Loso you were conflicted
On Heaven or Hell, he not sane
In the end you'll go where the Father wants
You to go like He Got Game
Why you speak my name? What's
Up with ya credentials? Get one sent
(cent) in Orlando
Injury fuck up ya potential
But in my first round I
Mentioned Memphis, and college
Nigga you gettin' barred today
It's the same reference to Penny
I just did it the harder way (Hardaway)
And I got on Foams
What you spit out ya mouth sounds dumb boy
With no backing
I got in this game and made dumb noise
In this round I mentioned
Harold Miner, Jordan
Jordan son, He Got Game and Penny
You realize what I done boy?
I did that to remind you how you
Fucked up with the NBA young boy
(NBA YoungBoy) speaking of NBA
Don't ever threaten to squeeze on Myers
Get hit with 3 of them thangs
In a rowhe's on fire! Mean ol' sniper
I had to sell it and I hate the shit
Cause it taught me how to deal with
Pussy in a long distance relationship
BAR GOD!
30 round clip, you can't escape this death
I'm puttin' substance inside of the mil
(meal) let's get creative Chef
I'll rake his flesh, serrated blade
Then the shit stops
The Chef been cookin' for the
Money until he gets 'Chopped'
They stopped the food stamps
And it changed the way I look at flesh
Cause hunger makes you crazy
A nigga might have to cook the Chef
Ayo Brizz, volume 5 comin'you ducked me on
Traffic and still runnin'
Smack turnin' up these Volumes
Yet I don't hear nothin'
You a college boy nigga
You don't tuck no Llama
I'll kidnap yo' daughter
To get her back you gotta fuck yo' mama
You motherfucker! The gun'll buck ya
And he on the ground with this shit
Thank the Lord he don't got
Another round of this shit yikes!