Correction Lyrics Reezy vs. King Jables by URLtv

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Lyrics

I was at the crib, discussin' Reez', just debatin'
My young reckless homie said I'mma leave just to bake him
That street justice
I told him, "Be f**kin' patient."
I said, "If Ree' sus, he gon' need resuscitation."
So keep f**kin' playin' like Mitchell wit' the sh*t
I'll 'Let It Go', he Frozen watchin' his princess get a clip
Aye, but first, let me tell you more about this pistol that I grip
Reezy...nah, Weezy
(*chk-chk*) It clicks and then it spits!
Or I could hit you from a cliff!
f**kin' bury him, too
You fishy little b*t*h, I got the aerial (Ariel) view
And it's an operating table they preparin' for dude
If you fail to deliver, Reez' (deliveries), wе Caesarean you
Usually I love this sh*t, you got mе barely amused
So I'mma rock you until you all type of various blues
No Country For Old Men, I'm airin' the tool
This AR on my-
Nah, the mill'll tear Reez' (militaries) in two!
I'm very confused! Am I alone!?
You dyin', homes!
They said, "URL givin' plates out!" and I got Styrofoam!?
I buy a chrome!
He be in a box with his whore beside him
One casket, Reez' in (reason) wit' this b*t*h like, "Shorty wildin'."
He be rappin' 'bout forest drivin'
I'm more, uh, violent
Rearrangin' body parts at the morgue and vibin': reorganizin'
Aye, the cops show up? They finna say what he needs is Jesus
'Cause I chopped him up
All they findin' of Reez' is (Reese's) Pieces
You not as tough as you like to think, so stop the stuff
'Fore I'll take you to a cliff like, "I'll drop you!" - it's not a bluff!
Too much of his skin was missin'! He don't got enough!
J's perfect, in mint condition, you ain't gon' spot a scuff
I could throw a dagger from long-range, the shot was clutch
You ain't gon' smoke sh*t
Tryna roll up, but forgot the dutch
The list of sh*t that you good for just says "Not for much"
You pu**y, so it's over, Reez' (ovaries)
You don't got the guts!
You gon' bleed, pimpin'!
It's 'bout to be victims risin'
I get creative with it, the King's improvisin'
They gon' make sure your tux fit wit' the pieces they findin'
They gon' put him back together and have Ree' sent to sizing (resynthesizing)
And that's King sh*t, man

My last battle was against a n***a named King Curtis
Shout out to bro
Now they gave me someone named...King Gables
And he think he got a crown
Why they keep throwin' me all these kings?
Guess I just make the right moves...to knock you n***as down
I'm straight to it
This my mission
You finna die in it
This guy's finished
Extendo on my left, extendo on my right
Came prepared wit' two 30's (2:30) like our time limit
Am I trippin', or is King Jables' real name James Bally?
Geek name
Keep playin'
I bet if the heat bang, I'll make this man book, on God, for thinkin' you a King, James
And you? You just in the way, that's no lie
Thinking you gettin' the 10K? You so blind
Even Smack like "You ain't gettin' a 10, shon. (attention)"
Won't even pay you no mind
But stay on yo' grind, 'cause we in a pandemic
Yeah, the world got that VID involved
And I hope no one get that sh*t at all
But the docs did say I got one symptom, y'all
Somethin' 'bout a AK-47- the Kalashni-cough (Kalashnikov)
This n***a soft...but he made it to the Crucible
But I don't believe his skill
And he faced a lot of top opps, but who gon' be the one to leave him peeled?
Reezy will
And if you a fan of The Walking Dead
You know that when I black on King, easy kill (Ezekiel)
So p*ss me off, and you gon' leave in a hearse
Sleepin' in dirt
n***as gon' be rockin' Jey The Nitewing clothing line
'Cause if I get mad, King (MadKing) on a shirt
But it get worse
The other day, a lil' homie said he ready to put in work wit' a pistol
I said, "Alright, but when we pull up to that block, every person gon' get it."
Bet I murk wit' the quickness
So when I give you this cal', pull (scalpel)...it be surgical wit' it
Man, this n***a is lame
He really sat in a barber's chair...and said, "Gimme some bangs."
What cloth he cut from, a napkin?
Man, your whole life bull
I'll load mine full
So test me, I'll blow my tool
You know that embarrassing moment in public when you try to go through the door the wrong way?
You know I'm not the one to push if you know I pull
n***a, I stay...wildin'
Ironic how I attach the muzzle and leave this n***a wit' the bang silent
n***a, this stage...mine, b*t*h
Rhyme, b*t*h

Aye, let's be honest, it's different levels
And you ain't valid, Reez'
I need a salary
And you...need a salad, Reez'
His girl can picture us hangin', I hit the gal of Reez' (galleries)
And just to add to the body, I'll lift the cal' at Reez' (calories)
Yeah, the cal'll rise
Y'all heard of shower beers? He eats shower fries
Not your average type, he can't even find a towel his size (italicize)
He's down to ride
Drive-by, no alibis
Only time you down to ride is to the drive-through for more shower fries!
I'm lyin' though? This sh*t is easy to prove
Give a f**k what a doctor say, in the streets, he a goon
Think diabetes is a myth, believes he immune
But soon it's gon' sound like you tryna breathe through a tube
The grease he consume gon' lead to his doom
Let the butter fly, wrap it in a cheesy cocoon
He eats in his room from evenin' to noon
So it's not that actress if y'all see Reez' with the spoon (Reese Witherspoon)
You fat b*t*h!
Cholesterol's beatin' his ass quick
Now they got you on the blood pressure watchin' you're at-risk
Ruben Studdard think he smooth as butter
But all those fried SPAM sandwiches are not the reason you ain't losin' blubber
Look at his past and you'd discover an abusive mother
She kept his snacks padlocked in an exclusive cupboard!
Think on it, just ruminate
He went to his room and ate a sandwich that Scooby-Doo would make
That don't mean you movin' weight, you f**kin' sack of human waste!
He ripped his mother's pu**y at birth, and that's when she knew you were a huge mistake
They like, "Damn! Why he barkin' on Reezy for?"
An easy score
They'll send a letter whenever your body reach the morgue
His family tryna contact him through a Ouija board
And all this fat motherf**ker spell out is "FEED ME MORE"
Aye, the trouble wit' dude, and his struggle with food
He gets weakened (Weeknd) at McDonald's, he be lovin' the crew
I f**k wit' him, too, but clearly not as much as you do
So I'll give him that work and then pick up a W, too (W-2)
I told Lexx, "Whoever's next, watch this coward die."
Ever since he started my round, all he thought about was shower fries
And that's King sh*t

Damn, I'm really that fat?
Time to hit the gym
I said, yo...
This Round 2, better not let your guard down
I'm the sh*t with bars, clown
You can't handle this smoke
But f**k coughin' up a lung - you better came to spit your heart out
This finna bury him
So I had to come wit' a shovel, b*t*h
I run wit' the metal sh*t
They say that money is the root of all evil?
True...somethin' 'bout these bucks make me devilish
n***a, this n***a is boring, plus the way you rhyme so lame
Times have changed!
So why you rap like this the Grind Time days!?
I gotta say...the way you spit your heat wrong
And I don't hear no instrumental, but keep on
And I'mma dump your body off the side of the Freeway
Since you rap like we put a beat on
And he the type to leave all kind of evidence on the scene
Now does that type of thing make sense?
Even on a gun, you ain't s'posed to leave no hints
This n***a a deadbeat dad, 'cause King left prints (Prince)
Now peep-peep, heat geek
He gutta? He from the hood?
Nah, I don't believe wit' heat...
I don't believe what he speak
An MLK sign is the only time I seen that King Street
He weak
Now guess my favorite heat
He think it's the .9, the .40, or the MAC sprayin'
No, that's my last favorite
(*chk-chk*) n***a, this pump my sh*t: sound like A-Wax at the gas station
Speaking of gas stations, everybody know that's where you clock in, sir
Send my shooter to your job like, "He usually in the backroom doin' a lot of work.
So just shoot his whole building up so you know he popped for sure.
Don't pull a Lil Wayne and Bobby V.
Just means when you let it sing, don't miss his office, sir (Mrs. Officer)."
He too stealthy wit' it
You won't hear the

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