[Round 1: Conceited]
Ever since you been battlin', you put on all kinda weight
This n***a's so fat, he'll try to put food on a license plate
I mean, this is some real shit; name one crime you had to deal with
You ain't got a misdemeanor, your record's cleaner than one of Will Smith's
You gonna get the steel fifth and let it peel quick?
With the blade out, I'll cut Clips like a editor
You ain't a projector, so how you real, Clips?
As soon as my dog catch ya, he got a pound full of strays
I bet your fat ass wished this pound was some cake
I will grab the nina, let that bitch take him out like a date
All that shit that you make up will only 'cause medics to come when the MAC go pow to your face
N***a, you ain't down to play and light the steam
Even if he is cockin' the 5
This cat pops in the sky like The Lion King
Every gun you see's sick
I won't wait for war to wave to show you what drama mean
I'll pull out that iron thing, it's like a circus act
‘Cause the cannon shoots clowns when the fire rings
Honestly I'll go all in his house
The flame turn his brains into change: it'll be all in the couch
Any survivors left and that Larkin will sprout
You guys wanna take shots, then Captain Morgans come out
Slow it down! I just dissed you!
You guys wanna take shots? Get capped and more guns come out!
Slow it down once more!
You wanna take shots? Get capped, them organs come out!
You see? I know the shit that get Clips really mad
Everybody in Harlem still think he trash
You know it's fucked up when not even Dot Mobb is feelin' his ass
And then you take a L to B Magic
You see, that's the shit that get him pissed off
But he be like, "It was an even draw, I wasn't on my shit, Con."
This n***a try to tell me it was a cheap tie
That's the type of shit that Clips on
N***a, I got hollows in them pistols, like a referee I'll give a tip off
And listen, and after it air it's like London
Because you won't see no prints, Charles. Ah?!
[Round 1: Charlie Clips]
I said I ain't one of these new jacks
I've been on every block with a few packs
How ironic: I got fiends at King of the Dot
That can't wait for that new Smack
Told my grandmoms I'm battlin' Con, she said, "Baby, who's that?"
I said, "A midget that left battle rap
To join Wild N' Out for two racks."
She said, "Ooh. Just two racks? He must be broke, baby."
I said, "Yeah, Grandma, that's a true fact."
He moved out his mom's crib
Nick Cannon ain't sent no money, now he forced to move back
Ain't Luciano Crakk a part of your squad?
Well, tell him chill 'fore this tool clap
It'll split him in half, turn you to a petty hustler
‘Cause you workin' with two Crakks
What it do, Con?
Tss… I'm witty with these bars, I don't punchline like you, Con
If he in denial he gettin' ran over with a truck
'Til his body in the shape of a Yukon
Go ahead and call me "Husky"
Like I'm Khalid El-Amin, we all know that's true, Con
Well, like El-Amin I let it point. Guard! I'm shootin' for you, Con
You know Khalid El-Amin, right?
That was a point guard, he was shootin' for UConn
For callin' me Husky, y'all see how many shots his mask got?
I counted about two, Con…
Mascot? Counted about two, Con?
I said, look, with the way I chef up these bars
I should be down with the Wu, Con
If we fight, inspect a deck, then I'ma send him to you, God
You battled Hitman and your ass got booed by everyone
Now you got no money on your debit card
And your battle rap credit done
I got a shooter, he a artist: that n***a'll draw on everyone
For a light bill, I'll send him to Con and make him edit son
I know you like my swag, n***a
You can tell I found a new religion
The shirt made by Leo, but the cargos is True Religion
Got an old gun on my dresser
I'll change it and put the newest clip in
Five sing and one crack head: that's New Edition
Why would they put Scotty Slippin' to rap with Jordan?
Everybody in here know that my rap's important
But you wanna slow it down three times like smack importin'
I'll smack your gun, then step on the barrel like I'm Captain Morgan
I wanna go three minutes, but I'm forced to finish him early
I freestyle ‘cause your ass cheated
We only supposed to go a minute and thirty—fuckin' cheater!
[Round 2: Conceited]
So y'all really put this pretty boy against this heavy man?
Since you think your life's a movie, Clips
I'll turn this to a concession stand
Let you be the one that I see
If it's not yours, I still take your chips
I pop corns and buck it, you'd better get a lifesaver, Clips
‘Cause it takes nothing but a finger
And these nerds know, caps air heads when I'm raisin' it
I heard in Toronto they say, "The West End's the best end."
So I'll pull up on your bitch with a best friend
As soon as I say "Hi!" it's sweet, once I holla, they in
And your ho tell everybody in the Westend
If you get ends, then I'm takin', n***a
If you flossin' any kinda paper, n***a
In Toronto you can be robbed for it like the mayor n***a
I'll get the pump and the fuel will fill you up: no petro
I done get the stock, then the cal lif' on you like the West Coast
Matter of fact, I don't give a fuck
Anybody can die when that TEC blow
I'll turn it into a bar and lounge
‘Cause I don't care who could get smoked
Bullets goin' through the halls like they got strep throat
I ain't gotta guess what room you in
They comin' through the walls like asbestos
Brand new bullets right where his chest go
So when I said I brought fresh rounds
To take his breath away I meant those
I'll catch you while you're givin' your wife X.O.'s
Put you and that little bitch
Both under covers like Mr. & Mrs. Smith
N***a, don't get it twisted like licorice
I'm for real, I'm with the clips
I point caps with the sweeper: that's a wicked witch
I bring the toys and the stock in and fire places like Christmas gifts
Listen, Clips! I'll do you like a landlord
See the tenant, he ain't kick him out, nah, he evict him
Slow it down! I just dissed you!
I said, see the 10, it start kickin' out, now he's a victim
So all that talk you try to be talkin', you better stop it, Clips
I'll pop the fifth, squeeze Glocks
Then put him in a deep plot for the drama, Clips. Rrh!
[Round 2: Charlie Clips]
What's up with all this celebrity nut-huggin' you be doin'?
Here's a few things somebody told your boy
You used to be on Twitter everyday tryna get a DM from Souljaboy
Then you took a picture with Drake
All of a sudden he's your favorite
Ain't that ironic: Souljaboy and Drake
You just did a freestyle to the song "My N***a We Made It"
Stop followin' after celebrities, Con
I really hope it's worth the cheddar
You got mad and dissed Joe Budden and Kevin Durant
‘Cause they both thought Surf was better
Damn! You really my man, so it hurts when I start blastin' him
But if you try to get with one more male celebrity
Your new name gon' be 'Kim Condashian'
You see how I cause disasters, people, when he talkin' that drama?
No, I said I'm Dizaster's people: I walk with a llama
Let his bitch look like Michelle, let her talk to Obama
This dick the bomb, she Spanish
I bend Latins over, let her talk to Osama
Shout outs to my n***a Swave
We both from Harlem. Is this a homi? Yes
If I don't get my money, I'm in your crib
I be all up in your mommy neck
For that green I got every gun from a shotgun to an army TEC
For that money, you get stretched for the green like Bonnie's dress
I'm freestylin' off the top again, but n***a, they know
I could let off 100 bullets, but the cops won't know
‘Cause I get rid of 100 bullets like J-Pro
Tell your bitch to lay low, how her neck go?
She know how the cum feel, but I had to stop
‘Cause she kept throwin' up like Fresco against Yung Ill
I do this shit from the heart no matter the cheddar
It was snowin' and I still flew out here
I love y'all no matter the weather
These bars gon' make this n***a die, he gon' panic forever
You know you that n***a
When your bars can bring Smack and Organik together!

[Round 3: Conceited]
Yo, Clips! Your wife is a whore!
That's why she dig how I'm dressin'
I mean she's feelin' the fit
And feelin' the kid kicks like she's pregnant
N***a, you can get it anywhere: that's Craiglist
As soon as I see him I make the TEC spit
And I'll let it off on Clips on sight like Netflix
Get this, you see, I could be like Gepetto
And get this fake boy the long nose
But I could also be a carsalesman and give him that 4 though
But instead, since you actin', Clips
You gettin' this semi like an award show
Lord knows I light off steel, period
Tell your men stroll, if somethin' hot flashes we might all peel
N***a, I had your wife for real
I'm the reason why your broad missin'
When I fuck, I make all of her twist
That's why she won't let Charles' dick in
N***a, your squad trippin', then I pop chrome
You will go straight in a nap like a hot comb
N***a, you know damn well you ain't got the Glock on
So what you gonna do then, mark?
You won't cap at all, you sweet and you left the stock home
In battle rap I'm on the top though
N***a, this is not an even score
Your punchline rank is five, mine is one
Is that why you think we equal for?
N***a, you have never looked clean before
You could tell it's some notes that I spent
As far as money, this male good, I could loan you some cents
I said I cologne you some scents
N***a, I'll go where he rest, everybody in that place get stretched
If they ain't at the house chillin', I'm wherever they at, aimin' TEC's
With these three K's he'll be crossfired wherever they hangin' next
N***a, I spray the TEC
It's not a flag when I raise up that pole with the red dot like Japan
N***a, you will get more than nicked
When these toys start talkin' like "Kablam!"
Since you the one I should kill, these'll go into Clips like Kazaam
He be the man I click on without havin' to call
The shotgun give him a bullet without catchin' a ball
Your whole squad could get hit when I'm clappin' it off
I'll do it like the store Lids ‘cause I'ma give caps at a mall
I said I'ma give caps at 'em all! Hanh?!

[Round 3: Charlie Clips]
What's poppin', Con?
Oh, let me guess: 'When you got a Glock in palm
I'ma get hot rounds for the cheese like Papa John'
N***a, please! If your mother snitched
I'm at her door, but not to pop her, Con
I'ma electrocute that bitch: I'm tryin' to shock her, Con
You got booed somethin' crazy against Hitman
The fans was tryna dismiss you
And you said: "The next n***a that boo me
I'ma slow it down and diss you!"
I love battle rap, but this shit's depressin'
Half of us ain't grippin' Wesson's, but you know it's bad when we start thinkin' our slogans is a weapon
I could see Fox callin' your phone
Like, "N***a, Heartless swung on me in the Jungle!
Where you at? I need to hold the pound
What kinda gun you got for me?"
And you like, "N***a, I got the slow-it-down!"
Is it a MAC? Is it a pump? Is it a Uzi? Is it a pistol?
Do n***as die when you slow it down?
Like does it hurt when they actually diss you?
I'm just askin' you, Con
‘Cause you gotta grow up, I'm not playin' you, Con
You bust your hammer? "You ain't got the answers!"
Pardon me for per-swayin' you, Con
Nick Cannon treatin' you like an outcast
How much he payin' you, Con?
You not a Big Boi, you got 3,000 for the season
I see the André in you, Con
But let's get back to the bars though
I had to school him, I just wanted to make sure this n***a learnin'
See, this my motherfuckin' man
But when you step in this ring I become a different person
Word to the homie Tyshane
I grab the knife, poke 'em, twist and turnin'
Y'all ain't seen hawks wildin' like this since Richard Sherman
Listen, this is my ring, don't step in here
Listen, this is my ring… aw fuck…
Sike! I lied, n***a! "Slow it down!" Sike! I…
Con, that's the worst slogan that I ever heard
Worst thing I did was when you first made that battle
And I memorized every word
But this what I'ma do, right?
‘Cause this my ring, this is how you gettin' it, Con
I said you wanna fight then get invited, the knife goin' into this con
No, I said I kick his door down, I enter calm
Soon as them shots enter Con, that's the end of Con
Talk, I listen, then buzz his top like an intercom
Whoever talked threw me off
You know that was some bullshit, but I'ma finish, Con
You a cheating-ass n***a
Every round was supposed to be a minute, Con
Go ahead and finish, Con!