[Round 1: JC]
They said you can't really be effective twice in seven days
Y'all saw me in New York & LA, it was cool
But if we are to say that it's true
I did absolutely nothing seven days ago… but waited for you
Y'all take a picture of him
Y'all won't even recognize him
Even the photo will be for his maker
Welcome to my turf, Twork
See Twork turf is usually the stage
But these poles won't be in his favor
Bitch, I spray the snub, drop a dollar bill
And a MAC'll make Twork look worse than The Players Club
Not only do they believe you 'bout that life
But you walk like it and talk like it
Even get it off the arm like a palm psychic
But now your future in my hands
Shit, "I was on every card last year except Ascension…
But you was on it!"
See, it's all about core progression
'Cause at that moment you were a part of Cor' progression
"BIGGA 9!" Nah, he get the .45: simplified
Then we black in when we move out: gentrified
Y'all been seein' me black on a professional level
These bricks, they kinda bring out my n***a side
Now we on the scene with the shotty
Meaning your debt is unpaid, "Mr. Criminal Smooth"
So now we gon' put a lien on the body
N***a, it's all this jumpin' around shit, you came in too loud first
See, and the more you chance it gon' make this shit high school dances, and you know they don't even allow twork
But you still exist thinkin' you can reach
'Cause you street more than some of time?
Bitch, being in the 'hood don't cover them lines
I'ma repeat that: being in the hood don't cover them lines
But back to the bars 'cause I couldn't help the line
Bitch, the 11 ring like Celtic Pride
He be sleepin' for good
Cook him first, yeah when I put in twork I also let the nose ring in the hood
Bitch, believe it, I'm squeezin'
A couple hit him and his bitch like they swingin'
He got clapped from his mans
But I was behind the shot like Smack with the cam
And then I rolled up smooth
You know Smack wanna be in front of the cameras like he a model now, especially when he throw up food
You on the menu, Jerooz, all kinds of slaughter
Kill everything that believe in Twork
Even yo bitch get beat for Twork like her mama caught her
I lift the MAC, split his hat
And you came deep
Whoopi, if they don't want none, don't assist a act
I hit the hangouts first then the house second
Then they get laid in groups
Bitch, I wave the deuce like I'm scout pledgin'
It's all about how you present yourself
Remember that, the fifth'll clap
Caskets: he get suited for the last time with his men in black
You wild basic, star player? LeBron James--?
Bitch, the only thing y'all got in common is line placement
And now ain't no crowd savin'
"Strapped In", bitch these small rooms are padded
You see how we style tamin'?
And just for the Proof, I'm on stage with the Shotgun
Metal blowin', I'm the Midwest Miles Davis
Bitch, we crushin' grooves
You could be with 100 dudes and be the first to pop
But when that ratchet spittin', Twork'll stop
Yeah bitch, these is money moves
It's bodybags at every battle, make sure ya homie find one
But do not jump in that bitch yet 'cause you just lost round one
[Round 1: Nu Jerzey Twork]
Look who's back in charge
From me, you've never heard one complaint if it was any cash involved
Even when they had Cort' appointed I stood firm
And somebody this strict'll turn these n***as down
Don't even take it past the bar
Now that I know you veterans better
It's no more praise for my idols like Nebuchadnezzar
Seekin' gold but found the pieces of scrap and settled for lesser
Well then (weldin'), two black Smiths (blacksmiths)
And you'll have a meltdown, I put this metal together
I made this a topic
Not to mention all the goals that I'll later accomplish
N***as tried to steal a page from my book
But wasn't able to find it
You? Not that difficult to read through
Especially when this is all you bring to the table of contents
I'm the game changer
Even at your burial with guns you still in grave danger
Switch the plot: I pull up to your crib with shots
The Bulldog kickin' like it's its itchy spot
My grievances
And after the body, I showed you what the head procedure is
To wipe the prints
Even put water on the serial (cereal) like Craig eatin' it
Nobody's safe, ya head discombobulate
I rarely miss with a scope but if so the Glock posts beside the waist
Pussy, this charge (discharge) any bitch my eye view late (ovulate)
You talkin' battle tactics?
I'm talkin' more men (Mormon) at ya place than a tabernacle
With a mag' to lend (Magdalene)
Givin' a box to JC like it's Alabaster
I'm so ferocious, I drive by and overload clips
Headshot ya mom' daughter
I bend back and put a bullet in the skull of yo sis (scoliosis)
It's my hand on the weapon
Revolver, cross sections: camera projection
Or let it rotate in the face like a random selection
My shit'll shoot
This high image you paintin' yourself, it just isn't you
Just a bunch of arrogant talk we gotta listen to
Well now, you gotta pay for your mouth: kissing booth
I'm movin' different
Way before SMACK, I been amazing, I'm truly gifted
The first to enter great (integrate) in the class like Rudy Bridges
Jersey, man
[Round 2: JC]
I re-invent myself for a few reasons, new season
Got him facin' the barrel
Starin' down at the TECs like he proof-reading
"IT SHOOK HIS PRIDE!"
What a surprise, I'm not shook!
And all eyes on me
And I'ma make him look worse than that movie made Pac look
It's just me and you in this ring, ignore the priors
Don't even corncern yourself with the Bear
When only you can prevent when the .4 is fire (forest fire)
Now I'm in yo neighborhood lookin' for you
Yeah we gotta send a permanent mesage
Door to door like Charron with the furnace inspection
Of course we checkin' for you
We gon' lift him off his feet like real love for the first time
But it ain't the scene we let on, I'm talkin' Steve to Stephan
What's in that chamber makin' nerds fly
N***a, holy smokes!
This is how it's supposed to go
And y'all both the faces but it ain't really a place for Twork on a Totem Pole
I came out East to you
Take ease to suit up or get laid in a permanent Easter suit
Y'all n***as come to me and get the coffins
You get the same symptoms, lay with 'em
I kill like OJ with these words
But most n***as'll quit and I just got a way with em
Now we doin' the most
We got the n***a tied, sittin', hands to both ankles
Then capped the n***a: Bojangles
With no remark
Everybody gotta make a sacrifice, you just gotta know your part
That's why you die in the ring
Every time you overpay in pride you owin' heart (Owen Hart)
And real n***as gon' hold you to that
And you know it's a fact
Now the n***a screamin' "MADNESS!" when the show finna start
Leavin' with a hole in his heart, the REAL opening act
And if I get the strap in, it's to clap at the opponent
But now he latched in and that rope can snap at any moment
Bitch, let him drop!
I (eye) go missin' forever like I'm Fetty Wap
Until they done tryna find me
Then I come back and smoke his boy like he the Ivory
It's a method to it
You get this missile (dismissal) as early as a special student
You wanna know an apparent fact?
You gettin' outclassed but however you feel, trip (field trip)
And wherever you wanna take it we bustin' there and back
It's the only way to test a n***a will in this sport
Is to hang these n***as' jerseys while they still on the court
It's a business list
Add it up, simple arithmetic
I caught him on the road home
He think he safer, I get the razor, then flip like the old phones
His bitch saw the strap then ran in the house
Like a ghost spoke to her
Then I sent a shot through the house, made a hole close to her
That bitch was big enough to get the shit crackin'
Like the first game of the season… a real home opener
My name was mentioned and the game was shifted
That's 'cause this n***a is the truth
I got in here and called the top n***a out
Just like every n***a in this do
But he responded… to the little n***a, too
And y'all hyped it… but I guess you really gotta soup a man to get him in the booth
But I'm a sick one
Everything you brought today, we've been done
I even get y'all eulogies out the same book y'all get y'all JC flips from
Yes, this crafted end to you is actually biblical
A real movie, the ending to a real Goonie
And he might not even look the same after these bars
But trust me, it's still Gucci
[Round 2: Nu Jerzey Twork]
In your previous battles, you glide and cruise
This one… not as smooth
I believe you to be an amazin' writer
But the facades that come with it? I'm not in tune
Your fans actually think you J.C., you got them fooled
I knew you wasn't J.C. when they gave your body to the Cave
And somehow you just couldn't get Roc to move
I'm on to you, since you been back you been killin' bruh
And yet and still they haven't given you one veteran, the shit is us
You had Chef Trez, Chess, Rum Nitty
They even flew you out to Cali for some bigger bucks
And now you right back here in this small room, well n***a shucks
Is you sick or what?
You think you gon' come here and mix with us?
Then get the-- give it up!
You see what I'm holdin' on my waist?
I'll wet up every dry spot you been controllin' with your pace
Always chasin' Lux…
Well now you run to somethin' loaded in ya face
Too many bodies on the weaponry
My honesty gon' be the death of me
Glock dirty, even tell you it's unclean before you touch it: leprosy
Not a arm neglected
I scattered out the throwaways then got 'em all collected
In a box that I keep those in (dozin'): narcoleptic
Had the double-barrel shotgun, sawed the weapon
Stomach shot, that's for anybody small and testin' (small intestine)
With blind anger
I can't seem to get my mind made up
MAC-11, deuce-deuce, .45 the tie-breaker
I ride ragin', I'm in Pontiac in a Pontiac
Out the window clappin' with some big shit
*BRRR---* I even had a automatic in the stick shift
If I get to airin' it's over
I kill this "new generation Lux" then who carries the culture?
This shotgun it's very explosive
A bullet from the 12 went missin'
But found JC in the temple like Mary and Joseph
I'm layin' you flat
I'll even come to where you stayin' with gats
Shoot up your family house 'til it's an abandoned house
I even put a bullet in boards, I leave nothin' hangin' intact (tack)
Imagine me distressed
I'll even let y'all choose my gun like: Magnum or the TEC?
See, that was a delayed reaction
And whatever JC bring back get the Lazarus effect
I'm blazin' on him
He runnin', leg shot, the sprint gets slower: data shortage
Blade is on me
Tucked, keep cuttin' up my jeans: Faded Glory
N***a, use ya membrane
You'll lose more than a battle if I use this big K (Bigg K)
The chop one foot like Kunta Kinte
And for my new n***as comin' in, I can catapult ya
I'm the one cultivatin' the soil for aggriculture
Ya bitch get one right in the dome, the ladder spark her
Make somethin' hot go straight in her head: Madame Walker
Jersey!

[Round 3: JC]
I'm the official threat!
Y'all watch this animal grow, off the chain like a Gigapet
Now murders lurkin' in the shadows
They might have a warrant out on my silhouette
Even though most of these bodies was force-fed
Now it's new n***as
No work, just a finger gettin' a melon sliced like Fruit Ninja
They all knew this shit was gon' be a landslide
It's not much youth comparin'
Shit, I'm part of the main event like Gucci marriage
If anybody say I'm anything less than, I resent the shit
I don't even talk to dummies, I'm not a ventriloquist
I just chill, it's a habit; it's the sauce, I pack it (packet)
I'm kinda meant (condiment) for this
I just show up, show out and rope 'em after
You stall on 'em and go postin' after
I ball on 'em like motion capture
Let's be real, Twork, you might not be pussy
But you definitely not the only n***a actually clappin'
What, you think Ma$e the only n***a takin' it past the rappin'?
N***a, you high?
You ain't the only gangsta n***a livin' in this room
But you might be the only n***a to die!
'Cause it's too late to stop once I start it on him
His soul catch a direct flight, dearly departed on him
No piece, the muzzle on the piece got him puzzled like Jigsaw
'Cause the target's on him
It's just designed in me to utilize my time swiftly
But a n***a still drivin' with the hammer like John Henry
"SHOOK HIS P--" bitch, look!
You want some irony? Twork ain't got shit shook
And he know it's lies
The lion in me started in March unrattled
And by December (Simba) I still control the pride
It's all these lines he keep usin', he get the crowd hyp--
These n***as dyin' for a promo
And they wonder why they see me flex when I see BS (CBS)?
It's cuz I (eye) should be the logo
I show up, show out and stop life
Calculate the steps, only take a risk (wrist) when the watch nice
And now ya image ruined before you started it
He still had his game plan on his looseleaf
But he died with little brandin' (Brandon) like Bruce Lee
It's all that jumpin' around shit—it's the percs, ain't it?
Oh, mixed with the white girl?
If it ain't the voice, it gotta be the molly that got Twork famous
'Cause it ain't your talents
I seen all this shit before you gained a habit
I'd be complimentin' you to say it's average
But whatever, bruh…
Red dot on the can, eight shots gon' send seven up (7 Up)
N***a, here's where it ends: you got bars
But all them years in the pen you should have a better one
And then it's me: the crypt keeper
Y'all hear Twork and think he was a quick keeper
And sent him to the only n***a who wear a hood more: the Grim Reaper
And it's me, the cut-off to ya ramblin' speech
And you can tell how I'm cut off the arm like a amputee
And like a n***a that just came late on the first day, I fire fast
Get one of you new hoes dead
If this was somethin' you thought I was dreadin', cut it… like the new O-Red
Dog should give up
Summer Madness you missed a big shot (Mr. Big Shot) like Chauncey Billups
And now you just took a different n***a
See, dead bodies'll never work
Next time book a zombie instead of Twork… shit could be a thriller
Twork, it is over with
Overdose from the dopest pen
And y'all know I wrote the shit
'Cause these battle turn into a eulogy: My Condolences

[Round 3: Nu Jerzey Twork]
I don't feel frightened
Your gun talk is equivalent to the Abominable Snow Man, n***a
We heard about it, we just never seen real sightings
What I admire is how you lack height but still fightin'
Just don't let this Napoleon complex get you killed like him
I'm all in the mix, on the block every morning
My coffee beans and gunpowder started to blend
Fuck a glove, it's enough rubber on the handle when I'm palmin' the grip
Tommy, the drum'll peel like j'aime belle ta', pardon the French
I leave no room between us
Just be alerted by my arrival like new releases
Chest shot, leave JC dancin': I'll jubilee him
This I pull (disciple) behind JC like a true believer
Drop the gun, pick up the *pffttt*, I'll ruin ya features
You can catch the backlash or get ya back stabbed
Choose at leisure!
How you want it, JC? Jesus Christ or Julius Caesar?
I've did my research
I've studied you from the beginning to here at your end
I know each verse
You try to stand your ground the Florida way then it's feet first
I told you back then you was the greatest; it's me, Twork
And I know you got this five-second rule--
*BAOW* NOW EAT DIRT!
You'se a dancer, we should take you as a big joke for that
Not 'cause you dance but because your desperate cries for attention just went from Chris Stokes to Smack
Let me ask you one damn question…
Over time, did the robot become gun hand gest--?
You a perpetratin' fraud
You told Chris Stokes you could dance, rap and act
And got to battle rap and found a way to incorporate it all
Aww, you'se a bad man
Against Rum Nitty you had the moonwalk
They was amazed with that, fam
I woulda waited 'til you slid back, dome shot, blaze and blas--
Little Julian coulda made it in Julliar--
*BAOW*, he shoulda saved the last dance
The baddest n***a, the 'matic gripper
Show you how to really dance
You seen what I did with Cor', he a graphic (coreographic) n***a
It's a demon
I'll visit JC late night like Nicodemus
N***a creepin' up, sideways the gun
To the back of ya dome the pistol squeezin'
*BAOW*! The shot perfect
But how you gon' criticize the form if you didn't see it?
I do em all trife
Desert Eagle'll send you back to way back when with this chrome pipe
If JC see a D (AD), he'll be standin' before Christ
I tend to try him
Way before you and Chilla, I been the nicest
Not to mention I'm bad to the bone like tindinitus
You think you on a road to glory
Yes you're very talented but I know your story
It's just your death disguised as a gift like the Trojan Army
What's even more botherin'
Is y'all allowed him get away with this shit
As if before we wasn't all watchin' him
I even had to check your past (pass): hall monitors
I'm sick of you frontin'
Y'all praise JC, well I'm tryna snatch his ministry from him
Brand new 1949 Wesson, it got Benjamin Button
With the silver Smith yellin': "The British are coming!"
Jersey!