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Round 1: Fight
I say, 'bout to get real faded
Drum in his ear, Mike Will Made It
Paul Wall, blew a slug in his mouth, I'm grill makin'
.45, 40 Cal's, steel plated
100 rounds, no relation but Real ate it (related)
His first cousin, face shot with the first dozen
Not the turban off his head, walk all in the church cussin'
Gon' need a Tylenol, your whole frame get hurt
Body ache, Real leave (relieve) before the pain get worse
Now I'ma still spray ya
More "Real" flips, that's the deal breaker
Beforе you throw a bomb on your chest, do me this little favor
Lеt me tell my kids I killed Osama for this little paper
And one Quick Time open the clip all on Real, Player
Mr. Name Flip King, punchline too
Think you punch until I show you what these punchlines do
It's gonna be Startin' Something if I lose my cool (Michael)
Your body's floatin' in the water if they run by you (Bayou)
Conversation with my Drac' before I'm Hawking you son
I'ma take my safety off you, discharge you and run
You gon' stay right by my side 'til the officers come
And I told my Hitman, "That's how you talk to yo' gun."
I keep a Smith & with a fifth
You keep trippin' with it Crip
Have Real lyin' on his back like he depended on the sh*t
It's, 'I Just Don't Give A F**k' I'm Eminem, I'm on my sh*t
Yo there's a 'Monster' in my homie, Magic 'Venom' in this b*t*h
Should I turn up? Nah n***a, watch me go up and switch the flow
It's been cold man (Coleman), even playin' as a kid like Different Strokes
Don't make me flip yo' whole sh*t, that's on a different note
Real in trouble (treble) like baitin' gators on a fishin' boat
House Party, act Immature and you get checked in a second
Kid N Play, tryin' to showboat, ya chick get a message
The beat'll be the reason she blew my brains out
She performed in a living room n***a, sex is a weapon
You know God? Well you gon' need that and a reverend
Cap a (Kappa) n***a, take you out for (Alpha) for tryin' to step in my section
Me and six of the homies, MAC-11's to stretch him
So as soon as you hit the door, "Welcome to 7/11."
It's B Magic posted up with these .45s
Just know it's Magic when they tell you "the show has arrived."
Damn, you ain't switch up ya sh*t?
I was hopin' you would switch up for this
Buncha name flips
I'm gettin' Real Sikh (sick) of this sh*t
The culture said that me and Chilla put on a cla**ic
I finally got haters now, guess I'm good at this rap sh*t
Them pussies are mad, which is (witches) stirrin' the pot
So I bet they blood boil when I'm cookin' wit' Magic
You used to be my favorite, the best on the channel
Now you just another rapper Death gotta handle
If bullets are statements, this headshot a sample
Now I'm the role model, you gettin' lead (led) by example
I block every punch thrown, your shoulder end up broke
It won't be able to swing right like Trump votes
Whatcha want? Old or new school? The sub' both
Cause it lean rappers but it got a Big Pun flow
What? I don't duck smoke
Up close, front row
Son don't run home, I unload a drum roll
My nightstand a gun show
I grab a chopper off the top and find out where B headed (beheaded) cause I'm cutthroat
He dead!
Get a mean left and I keep deckin' you
Then you gon' need hella medics to be helpin' you
Even if he's still breathin' his speakin' won't seem sensible
Knocked out so long it'll f**k up his sleep schedule
Keep it within reach, that's what Sikh's believe in
Said your fingers twistin' C's, you got some misdemeanors
Probably been in little beefs, I'm from a different region
Where killin' people's acceptable if you do it for religious reasons
I really mean it
Salute the God in Heaven
You can die in two to five seconds
I'll throw you off the roof if you move in my direction
I'm talkin' you off the ledge, like suicide prevention
You should be quiet
If I slammed you on your sh*t I'd turn battle rap to a ladder match
That's how it can get
Don't be actin' up with Sikh
You won't know the gravity of the situation 'til I show you gravity exists
You gon' bleed on this time piece I just bought fam'
I ain't really tryin' to stain it, but if one cross land
That punch'll draw so much blood off hands that I get it off the watch like I won on cam'
Draw, let's see who'll shoot the quickest
I spark with the speed 'til he blew the engine
Paint the wall with his dreams with a toolie spittin'
Left his thoughts on the scene like a movie critic
You thinkin', "Who this kid?" Cause you don't know what I got
My sh*t's so direct, it don't matter if you show up or not
You can leave
I can be alone on the spot
Just rap to the camera and lower ya stock
Your pockets gonna get snatched
I rob him and I sit back
He like, "Give me my wallet."
I'm watchin' him just get mad
That's [?] for his b*t*h a**
You seen him stumblin' in his battles, he used to tryin' to get his sh*t back
You f**ked up so much, it make ya clean days suffer
Now we guessin' when you'll trip like them relay runners
Like how many bars in you think he may stutter?
We start expectin' at 16 like teenage mothers
Talkin' 'bout, "I told 'em once", you ain't tellin' us sh*t
You'll be tryin' to tell us somethin', than forget what it is
I told him once, just once, now I'm gettin' why you slip
Maybe if you said it more than once you'd memorize the sh*t
I'm 'bout to kill you so crazy with words
We gon' leave this clothing store with your face on a shirt
Jersey!
When they told me Akbars was bomb lines, n***a I ran (Iran)
Why you gotta be like that?
N***a I can
Thrashin' n***as
Got a new toy, it's an action figure
It got one thing in common witchu
We both used to sell gas to n***as
Difference is, I was outside of the Shells Sikh was in
Grip the 10, you get outside of ya shell and get the twin
Keep cappin' and one of them shells gon' meet ya brim
Eddie Guerrero, a n***a can die tryin' to cheat the win
Look, don't ask me why been why (Benoit), you'll probably wanna kill yaself
Have your spirit lookin' at your body tryin' to feel yaself
Will it help?
I pull up with the strap the .30 off me
Hear dangerous (Danja-us) outbursts like me vs. Coffee
B*t*h relax
Then I pull up with a sawed off b*t*h
Pump put in work on him before he can call off Sikh (sick)

I'ma do it all by myself, I'ma ball of rip
I'm the only one makin' it point like some ball hog sh*t
I'm 'bout to change my name to Real Sikh Of This Sh*t
Just to battle you for the name of "Real Sikh" of this sh*t
You think you real sick well b*t*h I'm real sick of this sh*t
Make me it baow in this I'm real sick of this sh*t

The flow master
N***a, when I zone, watch the finger shoot
You say before you see them doctor suits I can show you a thing or two
I got him sittin' in the car
They let go a Smith &
Caught him tryin' to drive off like motion sickness
That's f**ked up what happened to your car Sikh
Headshot, Craig pops, fallin' back on my dog sh*t

He told me his pops got somethin' that'll make 'em all lift
Then I went shoppin' and found out it was true when I called Lyft
Cab driver, sh*t don't make me go and spray the pistol
You can't talk bad to my team b*t*h, they official
Put a hole in ya noggin and make a whistle
B*t*h, I'm talkin' with this b*t*h from the jump like Rachel Nichols
It's B Magic posted up with these .45s
Just know it's Magic when they tell you "the show arrived."

...it's Magic when they tell you the show arrived
Yeah
This the only rhythm that he keep
It used to be reason they think that he a beast
Magic always sound like he spittin' on a beat
The problem is he never thought of switchin' up a beat
This ain't a cipher! This a battle, you gotta attack a person
You don't know how to kill, that's why you ain't had me nervous
Such a backpacker nerd that
I can put the same beat behind all your battle versus and the words'll match it perfect
That old flow, is why no one lifted up your price
You ain't get your business right, now your livin' isn't nice
So I can't expect him to make the beat switch up when he write
He can't even change what's instrumental in his life
See rappers like you, need to be different wit' attacks
Writing a metaphor? That's for beginners of the craft
Your writtens scripted just to make a listener react
Fourth bar, no punch? Now they think the sh*t is wack
You conditioned it, I'm bringin' back the ability to rap
The pen and delivery, how the syllables will match
You so simple you really don't think it's iller and consider it filler unless it get a simile attached
You punch?
Great job buddy
We learn how to kick and stuff
Now we mix it up
Jiu Jitsu submission clutch
Elbows, knees, in the gut
B*t*h, I could lift you up
And you over here happy that you can swing a punch?!
Give it up!
Be direct, that's a method on the table
You shoot videos, that profession don't change you?
What? Your camera's shot in a one-dimensional way too?
How them video edits don't make you direct a dope angle?
Chilla told you in 2013, every battle is the same sh*t
Seven years came and went and I can use the same diss?
Didn't make your game switch, even when the game switched?
No angling? You ancient, outdated, you just changed cliques
Joined EFB with Gotti and Nitty to stay lit
Cause they the main event and you ain't b*t*h
Makes sense cause he should've retired like Irvin when the AIDS hit
Now Magic on the Dream Team and he here trying to play Sikh (sick)?
You always in a battle rap crew
Repeatedly just movin' to team to team cause you to feel like you included
Your favorite rappers be followers
Can't lead on his own two
He need to be in a big group cause he easy to influence
Nothing's special about you dawg
Your ident**y's so lost, whatever clique you part of defines your strengths and all your flaws
Think about it, in Writer's Bloque, he was forgettin' what he thought
And now he ain't chokin' cause he know Every F**kin' Bar
"B muthaf**kin' Magic", that's all he says, and now to all of y'all
"B muthaf**kin' Magic" is the only sentence you recall
How you say your own name so much whenever you perform
But still rap like you can't remember who you are
And see, sh*t like this, is exactly why I'ma win
I'm talkin' to you, and this pathetic life that you live
And the only way you gon' reply to this sh*t
Is to sound like you rhymin' in a cipher again
Jersey!

I'm 'bout to give this Indian wings like rain dancers
Here to hit Real Sikh (sick) in the head like brain cancer
Look, I stand in the street and pop the lead off
The little can' won't spray in your mouth but knock a (Binaca) head off
"Little can", "spray in your mouth" "Binaca"
Indian head red when it rain; Tatanka
When you see these guns like mine you think of Contra
It's shocking how I'm gettin' this green, I think I'm Blanka
Oh you gangsta, well if you hood homie, than ride
His tombstone read that "he stood on it and died"
I'm sick as Corona besides the pneumonia inside
Leg shot, I'm from the hood, even bologna (below ya knee) gets fried
Oh you sick Sikh? Well I got a bullet you can catch
Oh you gangsta? Well let's see you lift a bullet off ya chest
You ain't gotta throw no hands brother, a n***a gettin' real tired
I thought you had a Chance brother, than that n***a Real died
Let's rap rap
I'm coppin' a new coat for hidin' a new pole
If I pop and shoot it and pop it at you bro
And you happen to move slow
All you gonna know is me c*ckin' my tool bro
And them lockin' the room do'
He bled so (Bledsoe) bad all on his side he Antetokounmpo
Let's rap rap

Maaan
You ain't even live enough to be on Pay-Per-View
Y'all ever notice that's a fact?
Volume 1 that's the only URL Pay-Per-View they had him at
And he did so bad against Ave you can't even watch the battle back
On the Video On Demand, the SMACK YouTube channel platform and The App
And me? Sh*t
My views from UDubb to them iBattle screens been up
V.O.D.'s in London, I traveled overseas to get them
My raps seen on SMACK league and then some
I even stacked green with Caffeine, I really had streams of income
B*t*h
So if I'm the rookie, you the mascot here
Somebody gotta tell me how his raps top tier
Half the cats in my cla**'s Ultimate Madness matches surpa**in' the battles Magic done had in the last five years
I've been iller
Since Chilla they think I should spar against killers, I get it, but dawg
I watched him since 15, just a kid with some bars
Used to listen in awe, I'm sick of him fallin', I gotta give him this talk
You was really a star
Big into sport, now you in the middle division, not considered a thought
You ain't sellin' out no venue when you get in the card
You dealin' with minimum tickets like municipal court
You had the torch, in your prime was threat but never took the time to reflect
Now you the only kind of a vet that can't help a new guy to progress
Your fire done left
Can't even pa** the torch cause you ain't reignited it yet
You that old chef, who's menu was closin'
'Til the new cooks made your ingredients more digestible for them
Your plates stopped sellin', we made it better then sold it
While you over here cryin' 'bout how your recipe's stolen
Instead of endin' your role you desperately holdin' on so we don't forget all your moments
In the back like, "I'm the best with the flow I- I'm the best with the flow I-"
You sound like a broken record because your record's been broken
You that bum that graduated from college but still tryin' to turn the campus up
That's enough quit this battle stuff
I think you should work at a slaughterhouse
Cause then you learn to have the guts to hang it up
Crazy!

Ehhh, it was aight

You say that and you gettin' killed
You...all truth no bars, just listen

You stayed active so much past your best
You have no matchups left that make sense
They only ask to get you when the cash is spent
From the budget of a SMACK event
But want new talent fresh in the fans hands
So Magic? Practice 'til I give you another cla**ic
What's sad, is you have to accept when a contract is sent
Cause your f**kin' back half only cover half of what you need to have for rent
Such an average vet you can't even request who to battle next
So you rap against whoever the f**k they tell you who to rap against
The staff really hates you but I asked for this plate cause I'm a fan of the great you
The back in the days you
Spazzin' on stage, best flow in battle rap was your lane
But your status change, be mad at the game rules
My value and fame grew
I have to replace you
I feel bad, but I'm paid to
Now I've got the same job as an escape artist
When we got locked in, my hands were tied, now I gotta use Magic to break through
I got the best flow in battle rap
Sharp as switchblades
Tell your favorite rappers I put all of them in graves
Smack, put me on that Volume 6 stage
And I'ma make that small room volume Sikh's stage
I'm on that Jersey sh*t
That goin' all out sh*t
Real Sikh, and I'm the problem that you rounds wit'?
You supposed to put in work, but that's wrong now b*t*h
Cause you can't show up to work when you call out Sikh

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