T-Top vs. Qleen Paper

[Round 1: Qleen Paper]
I said Lil' Rel dog, listen dog
'Cause I got some shit I gotta kick to, fam
We all seen your side by side ten year picture, fam
And one thing you wasn't lyin' about, was your mama bein' a crackhead ass bitch
I can tell she ain't give a damn
That picture, ain't add up to shit that you be spittin', fam
That bitch said everything except for Terrell be pitchin' grams
Well me? I'm the type to slide and punch, like I'm with the scams
Or grab the deuce-deuce out the boot, yeah, the little blam
And that bitch takin' a piecе off Top, it's a middleman
Nigga, you ain't look the same to mе since Suge grabbed your pocket and almost snatched that motherfucker off
Or what about when that shit with DNA and Chess broke out?
Nigga, you was actin' like a bitch
Or at least that's how you was comin' off
But with them big ass titties and the way that chest poke out I figured you supposed to be the one to brawl
Nigga, what I pop and—
Nigga, what I pop and peel out of my hand, dog, you not gettin' with no prescription
Spark eight, code word shark tank
Nigga, you finna get the business
This bitch loud, some shit you ain't tryin' to hear like an intervention
Big chopper, I got to put it on the stand like it's a witness
I already fucked DNA and Shine up and you just signed up with your fellow brothers
Big fat, funky, pissy Terrell
This nigga probably got yellow covers
So be mellow, brother, or it's click clack, hello sucker
And when I shoot shit'll get ugly for him, Lamelo brother
All these dope tales and lies about sellin' dope, what the fuck is bro point?
The .44 point, and it's internal bleedin' and broke joints
MAG turned him to a pussy-ass nigga, he so moist
You beatin' who?
Me? It's an automatic lose, it's no point
You'll never see Top on top of Paper unless you smoke joints
Nigga, I get him booked for a show
That mean I give him half on the back end and half on the front
Niggas talk cash if you want, I'll put you with your stash in the trunk
Boy, your dick suckin' ass baby mama out the backseat
On some, "Bitch, get your ass in the front"
We ridin' dirty nines
Me, you, the mask and a pump
And she eatin' the whole sub like I passed her the lunch
[?], I keep pullin' like I ain't passin' the blunt
You 'posed to be the bear?
Nigga, you look like you and your girl shop for panties, please
I don't know what the fuck you thought you had goin' on, Smack
I don't know what you thought you was playin' in, Beas'
But I ain't scared, shit, papa bear told me if he a man he bleed
(*Phew*)
I say I ain't scared
Papa bear told me if he a man he bleed
Nigga, and I just seen you fall to a rookie
You can't stand with Qleen
Soon as T-Top overheated his drive gone, and he freeze/antifreeze
I knew you was gon' try that dopehead shit, nigga
You right, I am a fiend
What you got some xanies, T?
Some percs, a pint?
Nigga, hand 'em please
See niggas always want to bring up drugs and then point the hand at Qleen
But nigga, you grabbed the cup when I poured up when me and Rain had the lean
See a lot of you niggas problem bein' complacent with yo' spot
When I met you, bitch, I knew that you was fakin' from the top
That's the type of shit that I have his roof vacant from a shot
I want his check then it's rehearsal, we gon' take it from the top
I made it clear to your man's now I'ma make it clear to you
It's already been established what Paper here to do
I hear a rapper cappin' and fakin', yeah it's you
So stop lyin' to these people 'cause they pay to hear the truth
Rap good, fat bitch

[Round 1: T-Top]
Beasley called me, say, “Top, is you takin' Paper?”
I hung up, called JG Wentworth
Nigga, I couldn't wait for paper
I told him it's my money and I need it now
‘Cause Smack offering QPs and I need a pound
The fans sayin' this a memory card
Well I'm just somethin' dat' a/data save the game
They gave you a dope shot but this somethin' you got to take in vain
This is backwoods vs. swishers
Nigga, the way we roll up it just ain't the same
But they knew I would still smoke Qleen, paper plane
All you gotta do is drop your location, I'll take the train
And be with extensions in the front like Say My Name
It ain't a game—
All you gotta do is drop your location, I'll take the train
And be with extensions in the front like Say My Name
It ain't a game, the Desert so long I got to pray for rain
My wife and—
It ain't a game, the—
It ain't a game—
It ain't a game, the Desert so long I got to pray for rain
My wife and kids, I'll give your junior dummies like Damon Wayans
Nigga, this ain't a thing ‘cause I got niggas that really knows/nose Qleen
They said the whole time he was in Carolina the nigga couldn't keep his nose clean
They said his clothes stink so he stole things
Nothin' major, just football jerseys and old jeans
Between battle checks he used to hang with the dope fiends
He never wore jewelry but, kept him a nose ring
Now that I'm—
Now that I'm thinkin' about it, that was around the same time you was keepin' deposits
A league hit you ‘bout they bread you just keep it and block ‘em
We can't blame a crackhead for the things that he plottin'
We got to blame the ones that let him keep repeatin' the process
So Smack, give him his walkin' papers, I'm dogwalkin' Paper
I could get Q.P. chopped and bagged up but, that's only if we talkin' paper
If not—
If not—
If not, I gotta call you later, this is called a favor
When you do somethin' you really won't want to do and he tell you that he gon' repay ya
We strong as gators
Nigga, don't get your shit, chewed off
I'm grabbin' a SIG to cap a nigga shit, smooth off
He gave his bae the/beta word I'm strapped, that was a cool call
‘Cause I'll forget all about it if I hit Q dogs
Nigga—, nigga—, nigga—
I'm all about the love in hip-hop, I'm sorry
My flow is fuckin' A1, bitch, Safaree
There's no—
My flow is fuckin' A1, bitch, Safaree
There's no time for them old games, Atari
You wanted smack ‘til you got Smack, with a baldy
I'm on him, you meet me at the top of the bleachers
And hear the fans screamin' out, “Top, he's not gonna beat ya”
Detroit was a dream team now they stock doesn't reach ya
I mean Calicoe jammed, X is an X factor and we ain't seen Miles since we was watchin' Moesha
Nigga, ayy, y'all know what rhyme with Qleen Paper? (What?)
Free baser (What else?)—
Y'all know what rhyme with Qleen Paper? (What?)
Free baser (What else?)
Line his coke with a clean razor (What else?)
A dreamchaser (What else?)
But still a steal from your teenagers (What else?)
A ski major (What else?)
I heard he sniffed a line of yay through a cheese grater (What else?)
A cheap drinker (What else?)
He only sip Coca-Cola, each flavor
And he share the rock with his boys, he a team player (What else?)
Look, kitchen Qleen—
Look, kitchen Qleen—
Kitchen Qleen, tell me why the name change, homie?
You just now realizin' you and the other Q.P. battles got the same name on it?
Was you tryin' to be your guy? No, I got it you was high
‘Cause most drugs make you think you somebody that you not
Like how my—
Like how—
Like how my mom's played mother and father, it didn't work for me
Watchin' a woman be a man? Shit was hurtin' me
Cocaine all in my bottle, started irkin' me
First time I blew smoke in a circ— man, she was burpin' me
Nigga, I'll catch him at a party—
I'll catch him at a party, Ciroc and soda
He put his drink on top of the speaker, I knocked it over
I had the razor up in the buildin' but not the toaster
Well I'm still gettin' stained ‘cause if this oxy clean/OxiClean in the spot it's over
I told ya, that's what you get for having the biggest mouth
Smith'n out, I'm tryin' to go see what the nigga bitchin' ‘bout
“Smack won't book my battle”, okay, I get it now
Radio edit, soon as I hear Qleen version I take the nigga out
Concrete, nigga!

[Round 2: Qleen Paper]
I said Terrell dog, listen dog
‘Cause I know you just thought you was gettin' off
Nigga, you been done in this shit, too
Don't nobody even want to hear this nigga talk
Ayy Smack, bitch, I don't even want the check, I'll come back at a different cost
Cut all them Cave Gang and NWX niggas off except for Terrell
Just throw his shit in the vault
See I know niggas from your camp, bro, I already had the drop
Ayy, Smack, you give these little niggas some airplay and a chance to grab a spot
And as fast as y'all let ‘em progress that's as fast as they drop
This ain't even fair play, look at ‘em, thought he had the plot
Rap bitch on a fucked up hair day, now it's gettin' bad for Top
Nigga, I give a fuck what y'all say about Qleen, boy, eat a dick
Him and Brizz in a relationship, Rawsteen a ho and he the bitch
Say some shit about me chokin' ten years ago and see a clip
I bet I won't make a mistake in front of your fat ass, though, you'll probably eat the shit
Bro, you ain't never had niggas frontin'—
Bro, you ain't never had niggas frontin' to a bitch like they know you
You never moved twenty pints and then had a plug approach you
You a ho, you never had a real O.G. to coach you
You never shot a dope fiend in his foot ‘cause he owe you
You never had a real nigga go and state you on a verse
You never stuffed six eighthies in a bitch purse
You never had dog and fentanyl and found a way to make it work
You never held a fiend debit card until he pay you on the first

*Pause in the round*

[Verse 2: Qleen Paper]
Bro, you don't get pussy ‘cause you don't get money and you need cash for twat
So unless he do get some money, it's no ass for Top
You got a bad bitch givin' you some pussy? You lyin' bastard, stop
I'll empty cardboard your bitch pussy, that mean I trash the box
I'll give it to you, though, you do it for N.C., a real hometown champion
You a standup nigga, too, but you can go down standin'
Petey Pablo dropped that North Carolina, had his hometown dancin'
Nigga, this chopper spin Top in the air like his hometown anthem
Nigga, you can see the Highland park in me but I don't see the park in you
Big chopper, stop the whole fuckin' car
Bitch, I'm parkin' you
Put a little glow on his chest, I'm Tony Stark'n you
Oh, you faded? Well talk crazy ‘cause you too high, Top, and I'm parkin' you
And I heard your baby mama Superhead, she exceptional with it
Out here suckin' all type of dick on the camera and you just let her be with it
Nope, don't even start reactin' yet ‘cause y'all ain't lettin' me finish
If it's a video of my baby mama suckin' dick, bitch, I better be in it

*Pause in the round*

[Round 2: Qleen Paper]
I made it clear to your man's now I'ma make it clear to you
It's already been established what Paper here to do
I hear about a rapper cappin' and fakin', yeah it's you
So stop lyin' to these people ‘cause they pay to hear the truth
Straight to it

[Round 2: T-Top]
Yo, my daughter saw me cookin' coke this mornin'
(Qleen Paper: She was with me this mornin')
(It was the other mornin')
(Qleen Paper: Oh)
My daughter saw me cookin' coke the other mornin', it wasn't funny
She thought I was fixin' her bottle, she wasn't hungry
Fishscale all in the water, it wasn't jumpin'
I told her go and watch cartoons while I bubble guppies
Bitch, ayy, even my fiends fans of my work, I tell ‘em cop it
You want to talk Smack or smack, I fed ‘em options
They said you serve snow
Boy, I remember how his head was noddin'
Then they asked me if I had Qleen Paper
I thought the feds was watchin'
See, it's the south, bitch, we takin' over
I'm from where every crib had plates of coca
Even if you hate the odor of baking soda
You played your role but, I rock a fella/Roc-a-Fella then hit Paper soldiers
It's like a foreign—
It's like a foreign exchange
I give the money, they hand Paper over
I heard the nigga out of nowhere talkin' loud
Best way to describe it: a talkin' clown
I'm cool with his niggas so I ain't have to force him down
I gave his man's dap but QP, caught a pound
Nigga, I heard the oth—
I heard the other QP pimpin', fuckin' with hoes
And he rap, it's like a real life Hustle & Flow
Real shit, real shit, I'm not surprised that you fuckin' with blow
You're from Detroit, it's easy to get stuck in the snow
We seen it early— (Turn up)
We seen it early (Huh)
Every battle you was touchin' your nose
Spinnin' around in circles lookin' like a junkie with dope (Come on)
Then you went to the Cartel ‘cause they pumped you with coke
He only come back to SMACK when there's nothin' to smoke
Nigga, they loved you befo'—
They loved you befo', but now you thinkin' everybody still fuck with you
Well sooner or later that drug addiction catchin' up to you
Then you dead, you know how your kids be lookin' up to you
Well now when they talk to daddy they lookin' up to you
Wassup with you? You want to be here for your juniors, right?
Well just keep this shit in mind, bro
‘Cause when Black Ice book you for battles you take the money and find dope
They want your career dead like theirs, read the signs, yo
Yeah, you keep takin' money from the Cartel, you won't be another John Doe
Nigga, you know—
You know what I don't like about you, dog?
On the real, it's pl—
On the real, it's plenty thangs
But we gon' take away him being on drugs
Not showin' up for the battles and just settle things
See this Desey? It'll give him a brand new start when I let it ring
Y'all seen how I gave Qleen a clean slate
That's ‘cause I'm wipin' out everything
Nigga, you ever been locked up in a state where you don't know nobody?
Commissary stay swole so you don't owe nobody
I bet you would walk the yard and look dolo probably (Talk)
Paper work fucked up so he don't show nobody (Talk)
I got a—
I got a fo'-fo', shotty
This a solo, robbery
I'm layin' Paper face down like a photo, copy

*Pause in the round*

[Verse 2: T-Top]
I got a fo'-fo', shotty
This a solo, robbery
I'm layin' Paper face down like a photo, copy
I heard he got cut loose when the po-po got him
Now I'm lookin' for a rat with four shells like a [?]
My old—
Nah, my old—
My old head said they never used to roll with poses
I live by that Creed 2, shit, I deserve a Rollin' Rocky
You was a star, bro
You was a—
You was a star, bro
You was a star, bro, but now you just a walkin' zombie
Lookin' worse than Whitney when she was on the road with Bobby (Come on)
I came with three rounds of crack when I wrote this, papi
‘Cause we all know cocaine controls a body (Come on)
Speaking of coke—
Speaking of coke, I remember when my uncle wouldn't sell me nothin'
Now he the first one in line for me to sell him somethin'
Cops used to ask us questions but I ain't tellin' nothin'
Fat nigga, kept an eight ball in my belly button (Let's go)

*Pause in the round*

[Round 2: T-Top]
Nigga, nigga, bro
Ayy, cops used to ask us questions but I ain't tellin' nothin'
Fat nigga, kept an eight ball in my belly button
I could tell he frontin', you wasn't hidin' in the traps
If you was you was in there trying to fire up a sack
I'll put money on your fam' just for lyin' in your raps
Now you got to check on the kids like, “Ayy, it's too quiet in the back”
See—, see—, see—
You that push a shopping cart through the town type of fiend (Uh-huh)
Wipe your ass but, leave a little brown kinda clean (Eww)
Smokin' all day in one of them foreclosure homes
Door fucked up, you can't even close your home
Ya bitch look like a nigga when her clothes is on
They said he can't casket shut well I'ma close it for him
Concrete

[Round 3: Qleen Paper]
I say, you know what I'm ‘bout to say, right?
Fuck it, so your baby mama got caught suckin' dick twice on camera?
They exposed her twice?
And this the bitch you chose to wife?
Nigga, I know you trife
Look at him ready to explain
“It was just one time, king
That wasn't the case, y'all”
Nigga, we all seen the posts
That bitch was usin' all slob and straight jaw
But this just some real shit, bro
‘Cause you been my bro since I met you, bitch
Nah, real shit
You been my bro since I met you, bitch
And we all seen the posts
I know that shit left you sick, ‘cause I was lookin' at it like
“Damn, that bitch performin' some special tricks”
Turn around, find out he finna have a baby with her on some special shit
You rat ho, you trapped bro, and he let you, bitch
And you better not put your dick-suckin' ass lips on my niece or nephew, bitch
See, I was gon' ask Brizz some shit about him ‘cause you know you from the Pampers
But I said nah ‘cause let me ask him some shit then he look like he don't know the answer
And we don't need you gettin' tough in here just ‘cause you know you on the camera
‘Cause I got a ratchet bitch like your baby mama here to blow you on the camera
And, nigga, you the type that'll coattail too
When you was on BET, that nigga Miltown Bloe fed you
John John gave you clothes
Shit, Bloe nearly paid for your hotel, too
You was his artist runnin' around doing everything Bloe tell dude
Nigga, you ain't sell blow, bitch, I watched the blow sell you
And you about to get married to Superhead, nigga
She already told me, she set the wedding herself
I'm like, “Damn, sis, that nigga said yes?”
She said, “Nah”, she just said it herself
And picked the wedding date and everything, she just set it herself
Then turn around and start suckin' dick on camera, gettin' ahead of herself, nigga
(*Brrdt*)
That's the dispatcher
(*Kshh-kshh*)
Somebody call help, there's been a kidnappin'
My white boy'll twist your shit up for all that riff raffin'
Nigga, it ain't a time where Qleen gon' quit snappin'
T-Top, you's a bitch, you should quit actin'
Fuck it, nigga, go
Damn

[Round 3: T-Top]
URL, this my closin' verse, like fuck a casket
Throw this bastard in the back and just close the hearse
See I ain't come here to make the crowd go berzerk (What you doin'?)
I came here just to show y'all work, now let me put it in
See I can never turn my back on my niggas, my hood need me
They say loyalty is hard, shit, I just make it look easy
They say, “Top started the strike and then battled on the card, that crook crazy”
Well I made sure Brizz, Suge and Twork was booked before I took Geechi
Loyalty, nigga—
Loyalty, nigga, that's the word of this round
Heard you and QP beefin', that's the word in the town
I watched y'all build a bridge between street niggas and nerds that's around
And y'all went from smokin' on that bridge together, just to start burnin' it down
Fightin' over battle money
Puttin' all y'all business in the streets
Me and Brizz done bust down battle money and did business in the streets (Facts)
Went to two different squads while there was tension in the streets
And you don't never hear his fuckin' name mentioned when it's beef
Loyalty, nigga, like how you throwin' up Landslide now?
Like how he throwin' up Landslide now
(Qleen Paper: I been landslide, nigga)
You got to tell us what's that reason
(Qleen Paper: I been landslide)
I know Calicoe your man's but you been doin' a lot of sack eatin'
‘Cause that ain't even his squad, that was started by the nigga [?] eaten
And you see how Calicoe put Mozzy in the light but, won't make sure the nigga cash eatin'
Since we fact speakin', you had the first PG to ever drop, but don't fuckin' brag
‘Cause we don't remember you for that, and that's fuckin' sad
B-Magic bust your ass, John John up and passed
You was nice but still the worst nigga in yo' fuckin' class
With so much potential, my nigga, we seen it
Now when they talk about homie it's, “He's decent”
You was on every card, each season
But now it's only once a year that they spring cleanin'
What I mean is—
What I mean is—
What I—
What I mean is—
What I mean is, we all heard about your playday freak
They say Quantum was writin' for Qleen like a AA speech
Bitch, I'll punch you in your mouth then let the AK reach
He was broke before the bucks like a payday week
I had to—
I had to hit a couple licks when I want to make cheese
Sneakin' with the SIG like an underage teen
Last—
Last year I bought a chop', the kick on that thing mean
Boy, this Draco had the biggest, comeback of 2018
How yo' name Kitchen when y—
Bitch, how yo' name Kitchen when your other name Qleen?
Your sister suck dick and your mother can't read
Fat boy been a trapper, fuck do they mean?
Doe, powder and syrup, funnel cake dreams
And he a vice lord, too, oh y'all ain't listenin'
They ain't supposed to do no drugs so you're a hypocrite
But, shit if you need it I got it ‘cause I don't give a shit
I'll cook and serve a baby to the lord like a christenin'
Nigga, ‘cause you said, and I quote
“I'm too fresh to be a crackhead, nigga, I'm a dope fiend”
Well I don't see the fuckin' charm
‘Cause that just mean you'll grab a Louis belt, and tie that shit around your fuckin' arm
The fuck you doin'—
The fuck you doin'? Either way you got a habit, Q
I know you on that juice/Juice, just stop it with all the actin', Q
Or it's alphabetical order, that mean we are/R comin' after Q
I'll take a—
I'll take an eighth of his head, I really wanted half of Q
Nigga, speakin' of half of Q, I was in too deep/In Too Deep when I was fuckin' with pies
On God, them J Reed's come in your brother disguise
I understand why Donald Trump stopped them government ties
Shit, I had to shut my operation down a couple of times (Heh, heh)
Ayy, niggas told me that I had QP, and I was hardly scurred
I do anything to get clean paper/Qleen Paper, I'm Marty Byrd
On the stage—
On the stage—
On the stage, I do anything to get clean paper/Qleen Paper, I'm Marty Byrd
On the stage, he gon' make you believe that his cartridge burst
But off set/Offset, the nigga more pussy than a Cardi verse (What else?)
My guns hard to work, yours hardly work (What else?)
Chopper on me, this ain't how a Harley work
I'ma ride wit' my clips/Clips ‘til the end, like it's Charlie hearse
He gon' die from the can, sir, like he Charlie Murph'
Nigga, I been scarred since birth, talk shit, I'm dumpin' at his men
He a beast on stage but you a punk at the event
QP said, “Fuck you”, you gets nothin' after this
Just tell ‘em the Bear killed you (Hunting accident)