Gjonaj vs. Chilla Jones

[Round 1: Gjonaj]
There’s no turning back now
You told ‘em that you want a look
And it’s Sodom and Gomorrah: you’re dying ‘cause you got a look
Now, I’m bugging in the building: I am not a crook
Camera workin’, plastic surgeon: I’m changing the way a body look!
Lipo if I lose, wait…it’s not natural
They don’t hear me, though
No props, Botox
Imagine who I would’ve faced if I’d have taken off years ago!
See, you gon’ need a Christ-The-Second Coming if He rise again miracle
I’m talking Hollow’s presence, a Lux suit and casket, controlled aggression, Mook’s balance, Aye Verb’s Showtime and a racist angle
But, warning: I used to rob low-lives just to pay for cable
Don’t be this Rob Lowe
If they can’t recognize a body, that’s a John Doe
But just know I had to kill him
It’s what I do on cam
I’m the Kool-Aid Man: out of nowhere, one big punch does damage in the building!
OHHHH YEEEEAAAHHH!
Shout-out to Bar Wars
Never forget where you started from
See, just the other day, I took a long look at all I’ve done
And more than once, I thought of Forrest Gump…’cause I went on a retarded run!
And now, they want my face on a shirt, like “Have a Nice Day”
You try to ‘tack at my name with nursery rhymes
Fuck are you, Andrew Dice Clay!?
I said, I let a sig’ smoke, get those, clip those-
Aww, man! Uh...
I let a sig’ smoke, zips those, lips closed
Or have you and your brother boxed: Klitschkos
Haymaker, combo, two-piece biscuit
Or I scalp him outside, like, “Yo, you need tickets?”
Bitch, I’m putting on a clinic
Just when he think the beef over
I’ll show up at the hospital, cut off his circulation so he bleeds slower
Shoot the doc, and see if he can help himself like a freeloader!
See, a soldier’s willing to die in seconds
‘Cause from my perspective
You either live like a soldier, or you die respected
See, you always do them wack-ass schemes, I fucking hate ‘em
Every one of them are said wrong
You said, “Pros act like I am bein’ fake”
See, that was dead wrong
I would’ve said, “Pros act depressed, and maybe I am bein’ slept on!”
THAT’S how you do it!
EARLY!

[Round 1: Chilla Jones]
(*clears throat*)
On Ganik vs. Gully, you had an off day
Triple meaning, if you can catch it, wait
Pause, then advance
I gotta get this jerk off to end the mass debate
You’re a nice guy, so it seems stupid to threaten me in them raps you make
Feed them bull, but the lies you need’ll be why you get your fabric ate
I catch him straight from his J.O., getting on a train, lowkey
He had a thumb and a J in his pocket: he like to smoke weed!
My G silent in the front
Soon as the train stop, face shots split his dome piece
Y’all gon’ look at him…expecting to see an eye…but there won’t be!
I just spelled your fucking name out! Shit, I’m sounding like the old me!
The Chilla y’all fell in love with that could kill ‘em with a whole scheme
Well, here’s another super 8: here’s where the fun begins
Let this ho tell it, against me, Nitty, or Loaded, he’ll get a fucking win
But for the past four seasons, Lux been so high, it’s tough to make it up to him
Between you and Nitty, Rum oughta get the W
That’s something I take comfort in!
But you can holla, “They in trouble!”
I bet you won’t leave ‘em any scars
I had my reservations ‘bout taking you, ‘cause I done battled plenty stars
So, Bishop checked in with me, and said a win over you could get me far
And it’d be sweet if we connected, ‘cause, together, that’s too many bars!
So, now we clashing
The crowd reacting like he on point in the Six
When he rap, the fans give Kyle loud reactions for that lousy rappin’
Well, let’s see if this bag fit you
Salute to Daylyt: he left the block, where we don’t have issues
He brought a costume to Canada, but changed his mind last-minute to rap with you
You mad he ain’t take you serious? I’M MAD we ain’t seen Lyt in disguise like the Bat-Signal!
Black pistol, BOW! Now he two-faced like Harvey Dent
Razor blade, he get a Joker smile for that sorry grin
Y’all trying to build him up to headline y’all events!?
Can you imagine puttin’ chains around this clown bitch neck like Harley Quinn!?
You can die like Selena, Kyle!
Yeah, that would be a real shame
Side note: Selina Kyle? Yeah, that’s Catwoman’s real name
And you the bane of my existence!
You can’t spit with me!
I’ve had cold rebuttals in my last four, but rewind it if you missed the frees
See, overdoin’ indirect bars don’t make me prone to losin’
Your bars tailor-made, and still won’t work like Home Improvement!
You throne-pursuin’, battling niggas I got known for chewin’
So, if you wanna make history, well, it’s time to leave Rome in ruins!
What Jones is doin’, building up to a point: that’s a skyscraper
In 2012, I’d have served them without looking like a blind waiter
That’s why you salty, ‘cause you ain’t seasoning like the right flavor
Before, every round was as holy as a LifeSaver
I was high, schooling niggas my first year: that’s a ninth-grader!
Think it’s funny, ‘til you dropping tears
Laugh now, cry later!
DIE, HATER!
You might have battled dudes who sound like me
But you ain’t never stood in front of three rounds like these!
(BOSSTOWN!)

[Round 2: Gjonaj]
Look, I’mma be honest with y’all: I fucking hate his style
That fucking long-ass, boring word association, couple name flips he can make with “Kyle”
But I promised to kill everyone you respected: this could take a while
But I’m a simple man with a simple plan
Which is, “Kill ‘em all like the Salem Trials!”
But, at these stakes, he’s been on fire
So, why stir the pot?
You’re cursed to be forever mid-tier: you don’t deserve this shot
Mr. “Jump to Top-Tier to the Proving Grounds”
Bitch, you’re not top-tier!
Stop the lies! Stop the lies!
Pay-per-view sales are down this year: I’m not surprised
‘Cause it’s hard to skip his rounds when you’re watching live!
You’re just a fucking robot who thinks he’s one of a kind: Johnny 5
Plus, you poorly manufacture a lot of lines
I know you see this shit
I broke in the factory, read the manual, seen the weaknesses
See, what you call impressive, is all synthetic
He gave you the realest feel possible without actually being it
See, it’s shit like that where my hate comes from
Where my rage comes from
I guess I’m a fucking bigot, like I was raised by one
Well, look, bitch, just because you identify as a man doesn’t MAKE YOU ONE!
This is NOT. FUCKING. Queen of the Dot
If it was, you and Bonnie would compete for a shot
Believe it or not, if you’re even a thought or a memory I can help ‘em collect
You’ll disappear from existence: Mandela Effect!
See, my method is revolution
I’m using violence if I have to
And you should’ve known it, Travis, when you fucking booked the battle
Like, “Don’t panic, Ganik, I’m feeling manic-depressive
Oh, shit! Somehow, I landed with my hand on the weapon!
Now, I’m feeling kinda threatened. He said he was gonna murder me
I can’t stand liars with perfectly-worded perjury.”
The gun against his chest
Oh, now you’ve never heard of me!?
BLAOW! The hole big enough for open-heart surgery
It’s common courtesy to say, “Sorry.” if you knew the victim
I’m offensive, but I’m nice: that’s a euphemism
I got your bitch on her knees
I don’t mean to use religion
But she attached to the wood like a crucifixion!
Oh, dude is trippin’?
Extended clip on the Glock, like, “Who you kiddin’?”
I know my way around the ladder like a superstition
See how I sold them bitches like sex trafficking?
That talent alone is why I’m one of the best battling
You’re all right with the writtens, the rest you’re just average
You’re probably top 10 in the world…at text battling
Seriously, this fucking nerd
They keep on giving me pens’ challenges, and none of them have beaten me
You’re two rounds in, with no shot at defeatin’ me
But, hey, at least your death got to be part of the grand scheme of things
EARLY!

[Round 2: Chilla Jones + Gjonaj]
I say, uh
Fucking with me? That was retarded in the worst way
Pole position: bitch, you the one that started in the first place!
This ain’t no race issue or religion
Listen, they don’t got that ladder
They saints! They need more men with ‘em!
So, when he told Danny his writing was the Fourth Dimension
He was right…’cause it’s me, JC, then Daylyt, and his writing is the fourth to mention!
You told Danny you played Russian Roulette, emptied the whole clip, and survived
That’s a real bar
Y’all cheered for the shit
You had a solar system scheme and they cheered! What the fuck’s the difference?
(*laughs*)
You shouldn’t even talk about guns
How you play Russian Roulette with a clip, fam?
I survived
Doesn’t make sense at all, it sounds dumb
But fucking up that line was ironic
How come? Think of the Flat-Earth theory
He think the world of his rounds, but we don’t believe that revolve around son!
And vers’ Psycoses, he said, “If five grand is life-changing, you need to change your life”
You do
Bitch, you work at a casino!
If I win five grand playing craps, they make you change the dice!
You ain’t a high roller!
Remember? You’re a killer!
At large, and testing’ll be the reason I digest a l-
Boy, I’ll 3-0 you, then Debo you if I need to cash out!
And they gon’ say I was cold and wrecked him, and I’mma clean his ass out!
Wait, that was sick
COLON, RECTUM, ENEMA, CLEAN HIS ASS OUT
Now, ain’t that some shit!
But if I don’t pick and choose, you’ll choose-
Bitch, you don’t even have a blade with you!
All you do is blow smoke with your pen, and I ain’t come here to vape with you!
Got something by my tummy tucked to give his ass shots and facelift you
This a midlife crisis: all bad when this .38 hit you
Your persona ain’t fit you with Diz
You took a hard loss
Playing villain, but was coming up short: well, that’s an odd job
Word is Bond
He don’t ever let it ring: check his call log!
You can’t kill me, boy!
I’ll never pass! I’m a ball hog!
The best schemer that ever did it
But, now that it’s unbalanced, how could I fall off?
‘Cause now I got the best punches in the game, nigga: I’m Balrog!
So, call off the dram’, or you’re taking this L, pronto
Hot shells, ready for beef: I smell tacos
They said there’s no escaping his bars! Well, tell Toronto
This another breakout performance for El Chapo!
The King Pen!
With a reservoir of metaphors
If dog sick, I got healing hands: I’ll give this pet a cure
Ladies…HEEL IN HANDS…PEDICURE
Now, check the footage, ‘cause my intention vicious
So much depth when I’m spitting shit, it’s like I’m digging ditches
But me and Royce got the same fans, ‘cause it’s the layers they paying for
This what penmanship is
You know why they booked me?
‘Cause my lines keep platforms above water like suspension bridges!
This is wordplay and multis, both tied in a bowtie
Think the bow tied
But if this is debatable, then we both tied!
Two Asian guns: they both Thais!
Pew, pew..both ties hit both sides!
They’ll have to drag him to the doc, like where the boat’s tied!
Fo’-five, click and boom
Switchblade: stick it to him
Let him try this bitch on for size without a fitting room!
THIS IS DOOM!
And you battled dudes who sound like me
But you ain’t never- two up!
(-stood in front of three rounds like these!)
This a body! This a body!

[Round 3: Gjonaj]
‘Member that shit I said back in the day?
Tell Chilla, Nitty, and Lux where they can find me
Well, I guess it’s only right that I start with ‘em
So, give me a single fucking pencil: I’ll pick apart victims
And kill ‘em all in a bar: I John-Wick’d ‘em!
Stick to the plan: live as a lamb, or walk as a pagan God in the image of Man
These are my scriptures
I paint pictures to depict to the fans immortalized, and hopefully you get it on cam
Because that’s where the beauty is
It’s an experimental drug: be careful when you’re using it
Because inside affects reactions, but you knew the risk
You just wanted to survive, and stay alive
You weren’t trying to compete with me, you wanted more exposure
Organ donor: everyone dying to get a piece of me!
But, see, I just couldn’t live with that
So, my only choice was to get the straps with the grip attached
And squeeze on both sides like a Chinese finger trap!
Relax, there’s gotta be a way out of this predicament
By now, it seems obvious, isn’t it?
Those so-called fucking “levels” you’re on, I skipped the shit
It’s like a real-life Mario 3: I’m in another world ‘cause I ran shit behind the scenes!
Who whistleblowing!? Let’s get it going!
Clip is loaded
Kidnap the entire fucking audience, so if this bag goes over heads, no wonder you can’t see where this shit is going!
I told ‘em, it was just a matter of time before I climbed to a height beyond reason
Because, in the Land of the Blind, the Man with One Eye is all-seeing!
Meaning I’m the only fucking reason they believe in somethin’
‘Cause I’ve been a staple since the Easy Button!
“King Pen”? What type of shit he be runnin’!?
Let me find out he got weight with him
Shank-shiv him
Blake Griffin: get jumped over a ki’ of somethin’!
I’m NASTY!
I’M THE BEST!!!
FUCK Y’ALL!
I’m NASTY! Quite possibly the very best
I’m not even at my peak yet
Speaking of scary threats
I catch Chilla trying to skip town at the Metro, air a TEC
Subway ain’t had an image this bad since Jared left
You ain’t fucking with my 16s!
Look, I bet you gon’ say you done what I haven’t
Couple million-view classics, couple of caskets
Bitch, I walk amongst corpses, covered in ashes
‘Cause I withstood more fire than the Mother of Dragons!
Welcome to the Game of Thrones!
Play a role, and give me back the King pen: I’m replacing Rone
Or maybe I’m hunting direwolves to take the throne
GOOD NIGHT!

[Round 3: Chilla Jones + Gjonaj]
I said, the time is near
If you need confirmation, you’ll find it here
Take a deep breath
(*breathes in, breathes out*)
Shut up, man! Y’all talking during my third! That’s not cool
The time is near
If you need confirmation, you’ll find it here
Take a deep breath
(*breathes in, breathes out*)
Nigga, the sign is clear!
I’m the guy to fear!
‘Cause I’ll jump in your whip, and just sit by ya, let a fif’ fire
He’ll get a tip before I dip, like Lyft drivers
I’m a slick writer, with lines on the low like trip wires
So, get tighter
‘Cause even when I’m draggin’, I spit fire like big lighters!
But go ‘head! Try to call me wack
But I’m the King Pen: it’s time to show you why they call me that!
Now, all this flak about me stealing niggas bars is so wild to me
‘Cause niggas took my bars and they took my whole style from me!
They watch us procreate, and couldn’t wait to take my child from me
I’m trying to help you bro
Listen to the wisdom get passed down from me
I needed talks like this when I got in the game
And you right, the shit is Super Mario
I first thought it was strange
But niggas battle rap ‘cause a good job is not in they range
And they don’t wanna jump up to hit the block for some change!
I’m different! I’m a different killer! I’m in a different bag
That’s fire
Haters’ll try to put your face on a bullet if they the jealous type
The best advice: she ain’t your princess ‘cause she let you pipe
Your boo gon’ make moves behind your back, having sex at night
‘Cause if y’all split, having 1 up on you will give her extra life
But the most-
I know, shawty, I know, I know, I know, I know
But the most important thing: love from these fans ain’t unconditional
When there’s much room from growth, they’ll campaign and they stick with you
But when you get bigger, they’ll do anything to belittle you
But, win or lose, STAR POWER MAKES YOU INVINCIBLE!
THIS SHIT IS OVER! THIS SHIT IS OVER!
See, I evolved off principle
Too advanced and bright to peddle a four-bar setup: that’s a tandem bike
See, that’s the shit he be scared to write
To him, his fear is that’ll equate to one hot line: you have to plan it (planet) right
You took for granted your battle with Diz, hella corny
Then dropped a tier from the backlash like Denzel in Glory
You’ll be nowhere near rated with me when they tell your story
‘Cause I’m the future: they ain’t fly me here, they had to teleport me!
But here’s where I get to back-to-back punching quick
See, this kind of magic comes easy when you fucking sick!
You ain’t selling coke! I can see it in your mug! You ain’t touching bricks!
But keep lying: I’mma crush your shit
Flipmode: bust a fifth
For every fan to see, get him running quick
A slice have you leaking ooze, but keep your shoes
But tell the cops I did it just for kicks!
Now, this is a seven upside-down, ‘cause you just let everything the kid write fry you
But you ain’t catch it, I know
I was punching crazy, so the scheme slid right by you!
I had to fry you!
For saying I’m boring, that’s why I mad at you!
‘Cause I’m the battle dude amassing views that made pen game an attribute
I laid the path for you, and that’s part of my irritation
‘Cause without me, your flow would still be underground like irrigation
But now it won’t surface!
He’s so nervous
I mask up, no Purges
He get a jab, then a cross on top like old churches!
I should’ve worn cleats to stomp HOLES in his chest! Bitch, that’s the sole purpose!
But since I’m the King, might as well give him gold hearses
Bro worthless!
I got kilers in Michigan that’ll slap you, bro
My niggas in the D can get a minister bitch up: beat him past a pulp!
My niggas in the DEACON get a MINISTER BISHOP: beat him PASTOR POPE!
Lord, forgive me for these evil-ass raps I wrote!
It’s no joke! I’m the future!
And that’s why you losing now
Against Mr. “Jump to Top-Tier from the Proving Grounds”!
BOSSTOWN!