Chilla Jones vs. Real Deal

[Round 1: Real Deal]
It’s been a while… My last King Of The Dot joint I battled Rone, in a match for the ages
Used my third round to call out some rappers I hated
‘Cause they was acting like faggots
And I ain’t have any patience
So he got thrown under the bus like Metallica’s bassist
Enter Sandman, Lush, you can get me on this megacard
Looks like you put up repetition against a repertoire
It’s over, Mr. Strech-a-bar
Now you getting these stretcher bars
Raise the beam, Chilla shot, we can go a stretch of bars
They got me battling a Jones like symptoms of withdrawal
He’s another dead rapper
Hang his mural, put his image to brick wall
You talk that thug life, are you living that shit? Nah
You’ll get played in the streets like Dominican stick ball
You ain’t hood, motherfucker
I been peeping out where Jerome lives
Did a little research, you know, keeping up with the Joneses
But hey you’re a Jones with the heat
Shit if you shootin cortisone in your knees
‘Cause round Boston they say you won’t find a Jerome with a rock nor a Jones pushing keys
He act like he add up on the corner like Cinci's Jones
Til he turn and he gotta face the music like Quincy Jones
Get me holmes?
This was supposed to be the battle
That’s right up the fans alley
Real Deal versus a street rapper
Here’s what I don’t understand, Cali
He talks like he running blocks and dumping Glocks
Let’s talk where you come from then, shall we?
You’re from Boston, right?
Home of more white hoods than Southern Klan rallies
It’s just poor Irish white folk, there’s not a lot more to see
And shit I got more than a feeling
That Boston would rock more with me
I will show up to your doorstep
With some potato heads with me
They tripping waving that piece like a Grateful Dead hippie
For a 6 pack of Guinness
I’ll pass and share your profile with some goonies
And get you stomped out
By some MacNamaras, O’Reillys and Roonies
That Mick masked up is not Foley bro
He'll tap ya pockets like “where art thou?” it’s not Romeo
Chilla’s on his bullshit? This ain’t my first rodeo
Oh you sick? Well I’m from the city that cured polio
But you look at me like since I’m from Pittsburgh you picture a hick from the sticks or in cabins
Well you must’ve misheard
Cause if my goons figure that this herb is trappin’
I’ll send em to where you pitch work
There’ll be grins, smirks, then lit shirt reactions
For thinking you a kingpin sigs burns, your wig perms
That shit turns to big Ern McCraken

[Round 1: Chilla Jones]
Let’s face facts, bar for bar you ain’t half as sick
Your angles are classic shit, but predictable as it gets
You’ll act as if how I rely on wordplay is nothin' known
You’ll mention Boston cause I take pride in my fuckin' home
You’ll say I’m white as hell
And polite as well to make a chump of Jones
Then mix in some humorous jokes with racist undertones
This what you do Real, we all know that’s your comfort zone
I battled DNA last June, look how much I’ve grown
Take a mean picture, don’t I seem sicker? Scheme slicker
While MCs bicker, multis quicker, my speeds differ
Method Man told Day: "Don’t let that boy from the Bean get ya"
Cause I’m the best pro Meth has seen, my punches lean niggas
If any white boy winnin' they mean Sheen
That DE talks (detox) like I’m tryin' to get a fiend clean
I could tell his background fake, that’s a green screen
Chilla bring magic to the mic like the Dream Team
In the Bean getting' robbed for ya mink is like policy
Them rappers y’all feel lost the fur like Socrates
With bars I don’t play tho, you better try and box with me
Try angles and get leaned, that’s an isosceles
You all angles; geometry
I’m drawing heat swiftly
I’ll put a bullet in ock’s shin so speak quickly
Ironic how when it’s war I keep a piece with me
Full of Grind-Time rounds to make him do 360’s
Shit, I’ll hit your grill at will like an airbag
For all that cryin' claimin' that my tier gassed
Let’s make it clear fast
They rate me higher with this shit dawg
I’m a 10, you’re an 8, and that’s what got you pissed off
But the reason for this loss is cause you said I was “all scurred”
Called me the biggest Mark outta Boston since Wahlberg
But y’all nerds nothin' but a funky bunch of Klans men
If you ain’t know I’m next up, get in sync with the plannin'
These immature new kids on the block ain’t understanding
I keep a jagged edge and one 12 so you can’t win
I’ll jack son 5 times all for one one damn gem
If I drew he’ll act shy fucking what my hand send
You never know who gon' be squeezin' that toy fam'
Could be a student, all I gotta do is give the boy bands
So kill the noise fam', cause I’m the one making the sound now
You gon come with three wild rounds breakin' my style down
But I evolved so it’s rare that I clearly lose
How you dissin' me for a style I now barely use?
But now I use the best, bro find a new route
And fuck if you raw, I suggest you haul, it’s time to move out
I keep a hammer handy-man, so when that tool out
I bet this missile will ring his bell like school’s out

[Round 2: Real Deal]
It’s time to kill the hype, blow the lid off this whole Chilla bit
So when y’all finally listen to Chilla’s shit
Y’all gon realize what I’ve realized, Chilla’s shit
But they like “He’s the king of scheming”
Have you fuckin listened to a word Jerome is saying?
The shit you do is not scheming, it’s called word association
I do that shit from time to time
It has certain pros and cons to me
When you start forcing punches
And stretching words to flow it bothers me
Y'all like “Deal, this is how you do in your 2nd round
You’re a nerd”, but honestly
I found it ironic how a Boston rapper don’t know terminology
How many lines in the English language
Has he done stretched?
And he’ll put his finger on his temple after a bar tonight
At least one, bet
You got shit that goes over peoples head? In which battle?
I haven’t seen one yet
It’s the opposite, your bars make people feel good when they get 'em like a refund check
My bars make people feel insecure
When they miss 'em like a cheated on spouse
After I battle people they’re never looked at the same again
Like when you cheat on yo' spouse
Chilla got y’all smoking that dog shit
Like it’s Cheech and Chong, wow
Y’all are into deep but y’all still love Jones after the 3rd watch
In Too Deep, Love Jones... Nia Long, BLAOW!
I just did the same shit that you did with a B list actress
Cause that B list wack shit deserves B list tactics
And your whole “spell his first name out with put you in the ER hospital” shit?
Sounds like something my son would read me off a Popsicle stick
Let’s try with you, you’re Jerome right?
Well you gon see a Doctor J, it ain’t gon be no Sixers legend
With you in the ER, if you owe me when I show up with that Smith & Wesson
Woooh! He woulda said that y’all would’ve been like
“Shit that bar was Ether!”
But the only people I know impressed by spelling first names are kindergarten teachers
This motherfucker told DNA
“How are you the champ when you bailey be on the corner?”
Barely? Bailey? Oh, Champ Bailey like the football star
If you’d even bust that in a rough draft you lazy with that #2
JaMarcus Russell, that’s a football bar
Cause he was a bus ‘back was part of a rough draft
He was lazy and his number’s two
But why am I breaking this shit down?
People, how dumb are you?
He picked a crew called Writer’s Bloque
The definition’s when you can’t come up with something new
You been doing the same shit for 30 battles Chilla
Congratulations, Writer’s Bloque is fucking you

[Round 2: Chilla Jones]
It���s Trevor Weller right?
Well I don’t mean to trouble you homie
But you is broke, needed cash, I had a dub for you homie
I need that 20 spot, and I ain’t trying to knuckle you homie
This the truth, he’ll get the deuce if T.W. owe me
Show me hard, I’m a predator invading your space
Make you pray in front of this meal like you saying your grace
Tools light, a food fight you get a tre (tray) to your face
When I draw it’s martial law you better stay in your place
See it’s easy to make gun rhymes, but nowadays I’m versatile
Plus general bars are easy, let’s get personal
I heard you was Dot Mobb
And maybe niggas stretched the truth cause
Well if he was, then where the fuck is Rex and Mook?
Where was Tay Roc when you was supposed to battle Will?
Why ain’t K-Shine behind you screamin' “Get that nigga, Deal!”
But for real, somethin' had to make you join, can you remind me what?
Was it for street cred to run with real G’s doing grimy stuff?
Or did you see niggas asses getting grabbed and their heineys touched
And hit Rex jack for the next match and tell him, “Sign me up!”
So what you thought
Cause we on King Of The Dot that you a… King of the Dots? Well, you thought wrong
No URL but for that dough, mane, I’ll make a dot calm
If it’s drawn and his wife in a Beamer, I'll send creatures
Have a wolf blitz her if she seeing ends then leave her
See demons in a hood will bring death, that’s the grim reaper
So get the runnin' when it whistle, that’s a gym teacher
Wait, ain’t you a teacher?
What, you rap cause you want attention?
So not only do you run from the tension, you run detention
Trevor I do more than scheme, but still I’m the one to mention (dimension)
I’ma put you in retirement, money; no fuckin' pension
See I’m punchin', you pinchin', I ain’t even got a scar Real
You headlined but that was Pittsburgh, you ain’t a star Real
Smack don’t like you or 'Berg, not at all Real
As far as that main event, that was a Raw/Deal
I draw, get whoever front get flipped and let a shot peel
The damn thing in my hand spring lettin' off steel
Once I air Real he gon' see how some assault feel
If he don’t die from a shot anyone getting caught will (cartwheel)
They like “Stop Chill, Real will squeal”
Well if he sing this heat will burn his face
That’s how you seal the deal

[Round 3: Real Deal]
Think where Jerry watch Cowboys games, Jones sweet
My punches break bones Jones
Real Deal too quick for Jones' reach
They treat you like you Nasir Jones when Jones speak
So it’s 'One Love' when I murder your whole fam'
And leave Jerome’s niece at Jones Beach
I already took it to pen game
We can take it a next step forward
Cause you got just trash in your pad like a redneck hoarder
I’m not a hater tho, your battle with JC is a classic, I won’t lie
But you two pussies talk about it like it’s four touchdowns at Polk High
I bet every year they meet up at the same place and town like its sacred ground
They stand on the curb and get chills
They reenact it and replay it like a 30 for 30 film
See I imagine when they’re older, JC gon' be like
“Ayo Jerome brother, you went off in that one-off and I know you could’ve spit more”
You gon be like “Julian that was right here young brother
What used to be this Lids store”
But aye if your battle rap don’t make it your music can make it
I see you had Slaine on a track
In a verse you said “I got the bars on lock like a prison guard”
Wooh! You got slain on the track
Don’t even dare take off your hat your hairline’s gone
This motherfuckers hairline is worse than punchline hairlines
That shit is worse than “you can die here/dye hair” lines
I invested hair restoration
Even though I know it’s wild expensive
Cause your fuckin' hairline goes back like childhood friendships
But I seen you gettin' bitches though…
Aye, you fucking with Laura Tarsi though?
Okay, I hope that pussy’s not fertile
Or she gon' have a bunch of kids running around
Looking like the Tootsie Pop turtle
Most other battle rappers
Would’ve just took it to the neck game
But she made you feel at home cause she got big walls like Fenway
This a Boston Massacre, I’ll lay you out in the crispest of tuxes a tribute to Boston’s past
And since you a local hero, it’ll be a Boston mass in Boston, Mass, praying at your Boston Mass
I’m in Boston, Mass. like Affleck, yeah I’m on my Town shit
I’m murdering you
Let me tell you in a way you can get down with
What you think your bars are hard? You wanna go bar for bar?
Til I kick the shit out this fuckin' queer like a Spartan guard
You better tell Martin Sheen to get Marky Mark
And alarm the sarge, they’ll find The Departed where he parked his car in Harvard yard
The only people that think you’re amazing, have no GED and live at home
Fuck you and whoever wins that corny contest to chill with Jones
Thanks to you unoriginality is runnin' wild, you’ve given birth to a million clones
So I just murdered you and everybody under your umberetta, Chilla Jones

[Round 3: Chilla Jones]
Now this round I turn up and speed past y’all
Normally I’m taking shots in my closing bars like last call
But not tonight, if he brought his wife and she got a ass y’all
I’m getting intimate (into mitt) when I catch her like a fastball
You mad dawg? With yo glass jaw
Frail fight, I’m grippin the heat puttin' tips to his teeth like nail bitters
I ain’t Rosenberg, I’m a real writer
He in trouble cause this teacher struggle
With dangerous minds like Michelle Pfeiffer
Who the hell nicer? I ain’t lose in a while
So criticize on my wordplay, I’m still using a style
I’m Slick Rick with the scope, if we don’t patch things up
I use an eye to split Deal, think not? You in denial
Now use ‘N’ ‘I’ to split DEAL, DENIAL, see I’m the man stupid
One day Real was teachin' his class about the Klan movements
Seen a hand movin', took a question from a damn student
About the Black Panthers and said his favorite was Cam Newton
My plan prudent
On the real, he don’t be discriminating I give you props
Your shit is hot for real you spit amazin', let me get a five
{Real Deal doesn't give Chilla five}
Now y’all see the shit I’m sayin'?
He a racist y’all, look, he used to leavin' niggas hangin’
Oh you on a range? Well I’m ride past with that toaster B
Then I reverse Trevor, catch you in that Rover T
Hop out the holster I approach the V
Then Bullseye, shots flyin' through your Range like they supposed to be
With bars you ain’t close to me homie, this is true skill
Jones clever, better clone Trevor cause I’m too real
Blue steel, Uzis and Hecklers
Y’all will hear clickin' while Real spinning like a movie projector
You’ll need a stretcher, I’m warnin' you Trevor keep talkin'
Gun tucked, I run in that spot where you eat often
I’m holdin' bucks looking for the Deal like a flea market
Just to leave Deal on the table like a plea bargain
With heat sparkin' like pyro glitches I’m back cracking like Chiro visits
But Y’all said this pussy’s sick, but never showed this guy no clinic
Well it’s a science to a body, this is biophysics
I’m leavin' marks on the wall like hieroglyphics
While everybody dead frozen like cryogenics
I’m a menace you’ll need a vest that protects and detects steel
The best shield that or an S on ya chest Real
This is the shit that happens when you step to the best Real
Bars out of this world, I brought extra to rest Real
Why you talking about my hairline bro?
I mean, why you even take it there?
I know you’re a teacher, we all know you got a great career
But parents was mad cause they seen you and said, "His face is weird
With those beady eyes and this new fuckin' rapist beard."
I mean, as I stand here and look at this damn beard
I have one thought, that damn beard look like
The little brother to Caustic and Dirtbag Dan’s beard
Y’all send a white boy to get pissed on, that’s Laimbeer
All we do is rob dinero, that’s why I’m who your camp fear
The champ’s here, thought he could win he just lost a round
Against Mr. Jump to Top Tier from the Proving Grounds