URLtv, Nu Jerzey Twork, Real Sikh - Nu Jerzey Twork vs. Real Sikh lyrics

This finna be a 30 round
Ya Indian ass bet' not come
Up here talkin' 'bout
You over the body with the turban down
Too typical let's go nigga
I'm tryin' to figure out how did you
Real Sikh to become your whole image
You look real healthy to me nigga
What's wrong witchu?
Are you sick like lymph node
Cause you some swole nigga?
Well, we ain't in the same
Place you met us in (medicine)
Check ya temperature, we really dose niggas
Is you common cold victim?
You can't be sick like the flu
You ain't hot headed
You ain't put nothin' in the coffin
(coughin') , you ain't got no symptoms
Whatever it is
It can't be contagious cause I


Just don't get it
When you sick, you supposed to
Change with every stage
But somehow you don't differ
So you can't be sick like cancer cause
We ain't never seen growth in you
What's this shit you on?
Nigga ya real name is Sukhwinder Singh
Stop all this cap talk like Gryffindor
Before we hit the house, kick the door
Everybody hit the floor
I chop down ya whole family tree
I got enough in here for Sikh or more
(Sycamore) i'ma clip 'em all
I'm strapped in! I'll (Clap you in a coma
Madness, I could snap at any moment)
Clip get tossed, no words
I just let my pistol talk
This nigga think he real sick
'til this Russian chop' clip go off
Can't possibly think you're the
Only one Real, sikh
(sick) , soon as you hear my Kalashnikov
(Kalashni-cough) i'ma clip you off
A clip get tossed

I'm talkin' a pistol will fly nah, nah, nah
I grab the blade for this Indian guy
Hop out the Cherokee with the Navajoe
(Nava-hoe) cut leave a patch he (Apache)
Want mo' he can die (Mohican)
Them the Indian tribes
I'm lettin' 50 go fly
I just refurbished the piece
Beam on it, rapid fire
I got current receipts
I can squeeze, push one button and 30 release
Headshot, it hit that
(w) rap faster than Ludacris and you can give
His turban the piece (Disturbin' Tha Peace)
The nerve of this geek, grip a tank
Oh you some personal trainer
You can beat me, that's what he think
'Til I grip a tank, one shot, the nigga faint
I'ma leave the body to rot Smack
That shit'll stink
Give the personal trainer a strong odor
(older) nigga Billy Blanks
I'ma grip a tank, leave him just killed
Stomp him out, in these Timberlands
'til the white meat get revealed
I'm talkin' cheek to the heel
Construction boots
Take it in his teeth with the steel
Fuckin' up ya features I will
Size 13, big foot (Bigfoot)
They ain't even believe it was real
I'm talkin' squeemers for real
Shit got nasty form
Nigga funeral was a tragic moment
Not even his own mother recognized
Him when the casket open
I'm talkin' nobody even knew he was sick
(Sikh) , like Chadwick Boseman
Ratchet blowin', one drop
Then turn to somethin' else magic potion
Grab the toaster, draw the cannons, Warhol
Or knife
Stuck in his grill look like a warthog
Drive-by, only two cars deep but we all spark
The Lex still (Steel) behind the Cherokee
These bitches porn stars out the window
Extended mag' on the long jawn
I'm talkin' stick hangin' out the
Glizzy look like a corndog
If he try to warn y'all
That's when the ratchet come out
Soon as he do his Indian call
He get clapped in the mouth
I'ma use a snub, nah, nah, nah Ruger bust
He in the hospital losin' blood
He need doctors
Nurses just to chew his lunch
He can't breathe
They got pipes goin' through his lung
I'm talkin' sing
(Singh) with the tube in his mouth
Like 'Computer Love'
I'ma sssskkkrrt, slide through with thugs
Roll the window down, clips dump
Speed up, roll the tints up
If he live, then I'm spinnin'
(spin in) back like a cement trunk
Clips dump
I'ma show you what this pistol play 'bout
You ever heard of a wheelchair? Well
Bitch I give them things out
It can only go up hill from here
He can't feel a thing now
They installin' ramps on the
Side of the crib, look like Lil' Wayne house
Jersey

They said
"Sikh this is a bad matchup for you dawg
It's after you just lost an uphill battle
You gon' fall no chance"
Y'all think I can't dance
While this bitch Twork
(twerk) in front of me?
Good thing I got my back against the wall
What he had? He had the Kalashnikov?
I lift it higher, but I wanna shift the fire
So I gotta switch wit' the Russian
That's Brittney Griner
What else he say? He said, he said-
Yo, he got a headshot? I'm
Movin' with speed then
Beat the shit outta someone in
Ya crew to get even
Have Castro lookin' like Rhianna when
Breezy through that quick beatin'
So before you give this turban the piece
(Disturbin' Tha Peace)
I'm a give Lu the Chris (Ludacris) treatment
He had the double barrel shotgun
Sawed the weapon
I'll have him runnin' for Shotgun
If he saw the weapon
Fuck ya stomach shot for
Anyone small and testin' (intestine)
Liver shot, that's alcohol infection
Rib shot, that'll make him barf his breakfast
Give his chest rounds now
It's gettin' hard digestin'
I cut straight around, stab his lung
Take it south it's a family reunion
Flesh and blood hangin' out
Whatchu gon' make fun of my style
And how it seems so fast?

I'ma biggity biggity biggity beat yo' ass!
Run in his crib, drum on the hip
A ton of them rip
If somebody dip and duck in the
Shit I'ma dump it again
I want everyone to get hit
Walkin' up in that bitch like
A friend feelin' left out
"What did I miss?" then dump it again
Your squad get shot if it's real danger
We can have a peace treaty
But, it's over when it kill later
This how Kanye feel, gangsta
Cause if I throw shots at the people
With Jerusalem that'll be a deal breaker
I jump him quiet
Knock him out before anyone arrives
Like buck, buck, buck
Sound like Twork when he mumble lines
Butterfly, stuck inside
Swung it by a couple times
Then wipe the blade clean
The situation was cut and dry
Gun'll rise, son'll die, mother's cry
You got a Bigga 9, a lil' 9
I got a medium that connects
You to the other side
I'm prepped to follow you with
Every weapon I could use
If I get to line Jeruz you
Can bet that I'ma shoot
See my lift in your peripheral
And guess I got a tool
That's a barrel in the corner
Like Jeffrey Dahmer room
He hit my phone, I ain't gon' pick up
It was left off, hit the side of his truck
He in a pickup
With the left arm he reach, cut his hand
What he gon' pick up?
With his left off, kick it to the side
Then I'ma pickup where I left off
Watch it as I drop, give bodies to pine box
Last one that wanted to jump
Tried it and got got
He do the Twork Bounce and
Stop with a Glock pop
Leg pop, he'll go from hopping to hopscotch
And muhfuckas want me to run?
That ain't what they built this company from
I'm just as much trouble for them
Keep it a buck they threw me at Twork cause
I'm one of them ones jersey bitch!

I feel like we've both been misinformed
Real Sikhs, Piru's
I might not agree with Sequinda's cause
But, I feel like it's both gangs that
We twistin' up these fingers for
I just read about a mass genocide in India
I couldn't even think no more
I'm talkin' innocent women and children
Dyin' from this senseless war
I wanted to send a prayer to God cause I know
In the US we don't see
Things like this before
So, it's like over here it gets ignored
And over there it's the norm
So no funny shit, bow ya heads for me
Dear Heavenly Father, I know we struggle
Down the path of righteousness
Though forgive us Lord
And for every person that died
Out there in south Asia
I'm 'bout to send you more
I'm talkin' clips galore kill 'em all
I figure the more people died
Out there in Asia
That's just more liquor that Singh'll pour
(Singapore) clip 'em all
I was sittin' home, phone got to ringin' off
I'm like, "What the fuck is this?"
I picked up, Smack gave me my opponent
I hung up quick i got to tuckin' grips
Clutchin' fifths, uppin' sticks
A bunch of shit
Soon as I found out I got Sikh
(sick) , I did everything, it's a bucket list
I'ma dump this bitch, I got great plans
I can throw him in the creek
Or I can lake fam'
Or he gets sunk in the middle
Of the gulf like Space Jam
You can't come around my way fam'
You gon' need ya heat
I mean we both from Jersey but
I'm really from the meaner streets
You from the other side
Beautiful, grass cut, trees and leafs
I'm from the block, we had pills, coke
Weed and lean no time to even eat
I'm talkin' peanut butter &
Jelly sandwiches and
Then it's back to feed the streets
No time for Roscoes Chicken & Waffles
So we had to settle for P&B
This nigga ain't seein' me
That's pure nervousness
Up here spittin' all them words and shit
I get that wrap around and put a
Stop to that flow like a tourniquet
Burn this bitch, 12 left in the 30 clips
Still enough to pierce Singh
(piercing) all over his body
Like some Xerxes shit

Merciless, it's petty killers that
I'm workin' with
I charge 60, I give them 50, take
My little paper off the top
It's a Hersey's Kiss burn this bitch
You don't know what I'm workin' with
If your mother knew the company I keep
She'd be worried sick (Sikh)
I don't wanna hurt that bitch
Cause she still kept you
She grew you, raised you to
Be nice and strong, she had to meal prep you
Be a shame to tell her I gotta kill that dude
I don't wanna see her cryin'
Gotta give Rest In Peace to
Her son on her arm, i would feel bad too
Your mother's from India, she's
Used to Henna
She never thought she would've had
To get a Real tattoo
Yeah I choke in battles sometimes
But, I'm still that dude
Fans hate it when I take an L
I mean I come up here with 50%
And y'all don't really take it well
But y'all don't stand the other 50%
Just in case things get real
It's like 10% for tithes and offerings
Or I'm goin' straight to Hell
5% for the tints cause I
Don't want my face revealed
25 for court fees or I'm
Gettin' placed in jail
That's why I keep the other 10% just
In case I gotta pay my bail
Bitch I'll blaze a shell
Grab the shotgun and get to raisin' Hell
If you don't want the paper
To read, "Dead, 5'9"
South Asian Male" you better take this L
Or I'll pistol whip you so
Hard your brain'll swell
Grab the sticks and beat this Real Sikh
(sick) kid ass, bitch I'm Dave Chappelle
Blaze a shell
Chopper shootin' at a rapid pace
They done booked you with "Mr break
The Country Down" bad mistake
You must be on some Molly
(Somalia) thinkin' shit's sweet (Swedan)
Until I grab the pole and
(Poland) then mark (Denmark) him out
But that can wait (Kuwait)
He be up here spittin' at a rapid pace
"Y'all should lyrically fear me i'll slide
Pick and then roll
A blade from my hip will just
Go hit his occipital lobe"
Nigga, we ain't even hearin' you clearly
I think you're a fake Dizaster
(disaster) , a conspiracy theory
I don't even let this weirdo get near me
Long range, great aim with the MAC
Headshot, it look like Mojo Jojo
You can see the nigga brain through is wrap
Jersey!

The guys dope
But he be makin' up words in his lines though
Remember he told Nitty, "Land O Lakes
If I don't see nothin' but a
(butter) stick, I'ma win by a big margin"
"Margarine", it's kinda close, I don't know
Why bro?
You said "margin" instead of "margarine"
You forgot the AR, i won't
Die slow, eyes closed
I left him incapacitated
This the second reenactment
Of Kennedy's assassination
Hit ya head 'til we see half
Ya brain extend like it's elastic, wait
I don't know how I thought of that
Must be a stretch of thee imagination
This how to be thorough
I'm on my Doctor Strange the
Way I walk through
This round gon' be out of this world
No co-sign or applause
Chrome 9 to ya thoughts
Shoot ya brain out ya skull
I won't mind it at all
No time for the talk, ya soul fly to the Lord
45 to ya core, every bone by it is off
You're left so wide it'll fall
Right gon' slide when it's tore
Like a DJ at a wedding
I need both sides on the floor
This Jersey, I been reppin'
But they think less of Sikh presence
Even Suge said I'ma get left in this settin'
What evidence you got he gon' win
Quit guessin'
I'd ask for Proof if you know Suge
But that'll be a Trick Trick question
Big Desert, close range, bring it for a word
Sound like y'all predictin' this battle
I'm leanin' towards Twork
The boy heard the Eagle and
Knew he a dead man kevin Hart
Don Cheadle, he heard the 50 and said
"Damn!" you know what shook his pride?
He was drunk and tried to look alive
Couldn't drive with his eyes wide open
So he took a dive

Shit, after that accident you
Don't remember the same
I bet you with the roads
You crash was Memory Lane
He got ejected out the window
It was not a game
Doctors put a metal plate in his
Skull when they had to operate
Kodak Black could learn how to feed his
Girl from how ya body laid
Cause this bitch got flown
Out but gotta plate he said
"Of course I still walk by faith
And sometimes I drive-by too"
Last time you drove by faith your
Car flipped five times too
You was barely alive in a
Hospital bed losin' the
Will to live but fans got you conscious again
The culture cheering you on is what
Dragged you out ya slump
All them years of clappin' in a coma and
We had to clap you outta one
And still, we always chokin'
Seems like he lost his focus
I would've thought the moment his car was
Broken it would've gave him auto-motive
Y'all be knowin' he recycle bars and
Say 'em like they new
That's somethin' we ain't take a likin' too
Now he stopped reusin' lines cause the crash
Was gonna take that life from you
And his skull got a metal
Plate and those ain't recyclable
I hope this ain't the time you
Drop off after the second round
I've been talkin' to you too long
Let me address the crowd
Yo, raise ya hand if ya think Twork
One of the best that's out
See, look in the eyes of all
The people you've been lettin' down jersey

This ya road to fate
I read your religion, Sikhism, front to back
Made sure I made no mistakes
Y'all believe in the Golden Rules
To uphold ya faith
Now it's not about just eatin' Curry
You gotta actually do things
To the Golden States
Like meditation, givin' back to others
Makin' an
Honest livin' and amongst other things
Always go through shit like a
Warrior and hold ya weight
My nigga I done survived
Shootings, stabbings, jail, and a wreck Sikh
(anorexic)
So that shit you said don't hold no weight
We got plans to come
I read your religion 'til my
Motherfuckin' hands was numb
I read Sikhism cause there's questions
That I needed answers from
Your religion says
You can only carry a small knife but
You be up here handlin' guns
Your religion prohibit's you from
Gettin' intoxicated but
I've personally seen this man get drunk
Your religion says you get
Fulfillment from the sunlight
But, you lettin' Shine defeat you
Only did more damage done
Y'all believe in kesh, kangha
Karha, kachhera, kirpan
Those are the Five K's in
The land that you from
The Five K's! And this nigga
Couldn't even handle ONE this man is done
You doin' Sikhism big damage
We don't even know why
You wearin' that turban, you Nick Cannon
It's just brandin', with each step
Whoever the real Sikhs are
This nigga need a G check
I done seen your people oppressed many times
You ain't go out there and
March in the street yet
I mean, nigga I'm a Christian
My God allow me to rep this P set
Now I ain't sayin' Jesus was
All out there in the
Streets but at least he got his feet wet
I need my RESPECT
Y'all only clown me for chokin' issues
You had a classic with Pat Stay
30'd Danny Myers

You got your ass kicked by Shine
Look how quick they go against you
Same shit Smack did wit' me, but y'all don't
Realize, I was battlin' four
Battles back-to back
Somethin' I said I wouldn't hold against you
Really I should've sat down after
Every battle like Yoshimit'su
I feel like I don't convince you
Cause still a nigga broke, really I'm a joke
I gave you moment, after moment, after moment
First time you jump on cam' about
Me is when a nigga choke
But, you know how many niggas I done
Smoked? How many tickets I done sold?
I stuck out like a nail in the wall
Or cause I had an image to uphold
The police shot at me
Y'all didn't even send a nigga hopes
No nothin', you talkin' I'm fuckin'
Up ya bag, no dummy
If I'm fuckin' up your bag
Then nigga we both cruddy i almost died
Got in the car and felt the ghost coming
I'm in the gurney fucked up, spine done
Spine fucked up
Hospital bills up to my neck wit' no money
You're a fuckin' millionaire and I had
To make a fuckin' GoFundMe
Ain't nobody travel down that road for me
Y'all said y'all wrote to me but
I ain't never get the message
Only nigga to come see me was DNA
And that wasn't the Eric I expected
That shit is reckless
But this is where my respect is
Cause, I love you Smack
I don't hate this man
At heart I'm still a 19-year-old boy
That you gave a chance
If it wasn't for the URL I'd still
Be out in the fuckin' streets
Prolly dead and God had greater plans
So no matter what the fuck we go
Through you always gon' be my man
But after that interview with JayBlac
You couldn't even shake my hand!
I'm ragin' fam'

Hold on y'all let me get it back
Let me get it back
I'm ragin' fam', ahhhh, hold on
Control your emotions, control your emotions
Control your emotions bro just focus
Aight I'm back Sikh scoliosis
Bro just coastin' i had to talk to Smack
You had to give me one moment
Nigga you be on Instagram
Pictures of Chris Brown and Drake
I'm like, "This nigga got plenty stuff goin'"
This nigga said, "Remy Ma tied my shoe!" We
Don't give a fuck homie
Nigga, ya boots was tied all the way up
That's the only reason Remy jumped on it
If it ain't $40
000 or better than it's fuck haters
Hitman, NXT, Jerry Wess, a buncha nut chasers
Smack don't call my phone
For nothin' but paper free Surf nigga jersey

Y'all remember when he did a
Fake choke with Geechi? Then said
"That's somethin' the old Twork'll do"
Then choked for two more years
I guess that old Twork is new (Nu)
Besides me that's somethin' the
Whole Jersey do you right, free Surf
You even choked versus Tsu
You the kinda person to be amazin' vs me
And then choke versus Mook
Y'all keep callin' me a "terrorist" that's
What I'm goin' to turn into
I taught myself how to make
A bomb explode burnin' fumes
With the push of a button, so
While the whole world in school
Doin' homework on Zoom
I was remote learnin' too
I'ma fool versus who?
Yeah with Shine I felt worse I let y'all down
I let the mic issues get in my head
Shit got 30'd by the crowd
But, I fought through it
Even though it wasn't workin' I was proud
Shit, if you was in my state
You would've Jersey'd every round
You gotta reinvent ya style
The old one ain't better, hold it together
Control all ya temper show 'em some effort
Don't just fold under pressure
If the same way you live is
The same way you die
You won't be remembered
Your homies should check ya
Like in the past no one told you to spar?
Unless that battle is close
You don't even start
What good is havin' bars that are
Goin' over ya head if he
Can't get it through his head to
Be goin' over his bars?
And stillnow he banned from
The live streams cause
He had three rounds and then choked
Y'all know he used to work at Dunkin' Donuts?
You gon' confirm it?

Y'all know he used to work at Dunkin' Donuts?
That links down to this though
Cause he restricted to the app so when
He ask Beas' 'bout the big shows
He back at the drive-thru cause
Caffeine's out the window talkin' 'bout
"Donuts is 99 cents it's on a
Board when you get in line"
His tall ass was behind the register
And his forehead hit the side
The numbers were lopsided
When he turned around to fix the sign
That's when he said, "I got it bigga 9!"
Talkin' 'bout
I'm strapped in and I'll clap you in a coma
Bitch you should be askin' if Smack
And them want a donut
I'll wave it back and forth
I be practicin' hypnosis
So I can get him out that madness
If I snap at any moment
Roc had to turn his head
He couldn't quite see you die
Well I ain't ya mothafuckin' brother
I wanna see the life leave ya eyes
I'll smack you in coma, my hand heavy as ya 9
I'll have doctors rushin' in
Tryin' to guess if you survive
They ready to pull the plug
Unless you give a sign
You gon' have to do the Twork
Hands to tell 'em you alive
I'm on that Jersey shit
That goin' all out shit real Sikh
And I'm the problem that
You want rounds wit'?
You supposed to put in work
But that's wrong now bitch
Cause you can't show up to work
When you call out Sikh (sick) jersey!