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lirik lagu urltv - mr. wavy vs. chef trez

[round 1: mr. wavy]
my att-tude like, “none of these n-ggas f-ckin’ wit’ me”
these lil’ rappers they throwin’ ain’t really nothin’ to me
chef trez…ayo, smack, tell me what this about
wait, so this is the mission that n-ggas dishin’ out?
so smokin’ you is gon’ get brizz to come outta that hole i’m tryna fish him out?
they brought me back to work in the dmv
i guess it’s ls i’m gon’ be givin’ out
chef trez, you know you lost
it’s no remorse, i’m goin’ off
hammer on me, it ain’t to hold ‘em off or show it off
they squad up, my arm up: i’m like a know-it-all
head shot: push his sh-t back like a holding call
what’s up?
stop talkin’ ‘bout the work you be pushin’!
see, these n-ggas be they own flaws
they’ll tell you who drive they own cars
who the connect, where they meetin’, who done sold hard
that’s when you mask up wit’ the-
don’t matter, just know the chrome large
i hit trez, then come off the plug like the phone charged
straight menace
he gon’ run to tay roc like, “yo, they stole the c0ke, the bag, weed, straight finished
all the weight lost (loss): dre dennis”
you gon’ have to explain to tay roc for eight minutes!
we both in v.a., but you ain’t safe in it
silencer, meet my freak b-tch: she put her face in it
and when they together, it don’t matter what time they snappin’
close-range, he wouldn’t even know a sound was happenin’
‘cause the sh-t sound like…exactly – no crowd reaction!
i’m back in this sh-t, n-gga!
now we gon’ turn up!
you a writer? well, i’m here to put that pen under
make ya men wonder, why, you a bench-runner
n-gga ain’t been hotter than ten summers
p-ssy n-gga wouldn’t bend rubber!
the chef? if you serve sh-lls, it’s to end hunger
if i serve sh-lls, it’s to hit you, and leave ya mens under!
‘cause this here? a fence-jumper
this four ain’t no pin number
f-ck yo’ drive! ‘cause the clip i’m holdin’ longer than a vin number!
you don’t do enough!
always talkin’ “he keep his toolie tucked”
f-ck outta here!
n-gga rockin’ the lil uzi cut!
i’m suited up, ‘cause n-ggas actin’ like this a plate for me
no, i’m suited up, you gon’ look like drake to me
i’m suited up, ‘cause this ain’t about who could hold a gun the tightest
this about the chef thinkin’ i was a plate
now you gon’ f-ck around and catch a stomach virus!
dmv, i’m pickin’ up where i left off!
no, we in the dmv
when i’m pickin’ up, whoever left? off!
‘cause it’s no games wit’chu!
i don’t care if his lil’ gang wit’chu!
i’m where the soldiers be
no mask on, n-ggas know it’s me
i walk up, trez get the free smoke like stolen weed
social media had you 3-0’ing me?
let’s go and see
blade to his chest, i hold it down like i’m tryna reload the feed
who hoein’ me?
all these dark-skin n-ggas wit’ oversized clothes: these n-ggas jodeci!
automatic for the static
oh, they rollin’ deep?
well, you can’t dodge this big b-tch forever: professor oglevee!
it’s no ch-nks in my armor, but let me vent somethin’
see, when i first came, i had a pg when a pg really meant somethin’!
my own style, own slogan
every battle, i’d invent somethin’!
rookies vs. vets, my “zombie” line had the event buggin’!
summer madness my first year – they can’t prevent nothin’
the crowd turned on me – that was corny – but i don’t resent nothin’
‘cause that sh-t made me the man i am! they ain’t prevent nothin’
but chef trez, you don’t present nothin’
you got your story wrong
he just went to cave gang to get his glory on
i did my thing better without the group: i’m like omarion!
f-ck is shorty on!?
man, it’s nothin’ that y’all tellin’ me
weaponry, i’ll be over the top – bow! – of this street (streetz) n-gga
now it’s him spittin’: it’s not born legacy
that’s round 1, y’all know i came to chalk him out
i’ll look him dead in his fa-
no, let me do me…truly…smooth, see
i’ll reb-ttal my own sh-t and have somethin’ rose from this new t (tee)! bow!
round 1

[round 1: chef trez]
i say, yo
salute to the dmv
salute to wavy, too, that n-gga wild when rappin’
but i’m a real street n-gga, n-gga
like, really, the cal’ is blastin’
you say it’s on silent like…the crowd reaction?
they all focused
i’ll bow! so they look that way, then (-swoosh-)…
real k!llas get away wit’ a loud distraction
see, i’m somethin’-
you lookin’ in the sky like don’t none of this sh-t faze you
‘til you the n-gga i stick a blade through, the arm
movin’ left and right, i’ll let it wave through
intestines, liver, kidney, the n-gga wav’ through
knife to his back: i can even pedal through wav’ (wave), too!
this battle gon’ be somethin’ different
you think i’m playin’, right? say good night!
you dead off rip
why would i take you light?
you take advice?
you should’ve stayed away from this stage, you ain’t as nice
you got a push, popped out, then died, but that’s the way of life
i wish you would trip!
you ain’t never been on no hood sh-t!
stop the fakin’
every n-gga i know named joseph was a good kid
and yeah, my name is santrez
but in this ring, i slaughter guys
so if they put wav’ (wave) over san’ (sand)
that’s only gon’ bring out my darker side!
i’m one of the n-ggas you should run from
you all performance, no bars
don’t forget where you come from!
you’ll get a head shot and a leg shot wit’ a dum-dum
now you don’t gotta walk like a zombie, you gon’ become one!
but how you walk all dumb wit’ it?
you think it look sl!ck?
n-gga, even wit’ the biggest pants that way, it won’t fit
you gotta salt the barrel, or remove the clip, wit’ double socks
so when you tuck it in your shoe, the barrel don’t rub against your skin!
is he a k!ller? naw!
he prob’ly do got guns that can lift us all
but these sh-ts’ll shake america
have the country rockin’, like tim mcgraw!
wait, i say-
you barely put in work
smack, that’s what y’all lettin’ him do?
no promotion, no network, and that’s the way y’all lettin’ him move?
then he say i ain’t as nice as him?
well, sh-t, to tell him the truth
you ain’t had a bar as fire in three years
n-gga, you ain’t even better than-
wait, that wasn’t even you!
talkin’ ‘bout you “fathered it”
that’s montana of 300, you stealin’ other artists’ sh-t
well, for stealin’ from 300, i should off ya sh-t
catch ya b-tch pushin’ ya seat out, give it that sparta kick!
he h-lla g-ssed off his twork win
but y’all think this f-cker is nice
well, here’s some f-ckin’ advice:
keep it rap, before i f-ck up ya life
why would i cut him wit’ knives, when i could gun-b-tt him wit’ .9’s?
split through the dark, and have it goin’ against the white meat like brother polight
you weak, scr-p!
name any place in this world you wanna meet at
if it’s beef, then the heat clap
gun under his chin
man, all that sh-t, and the way your name see that
i’ll still shoot, barrel spark and flash under the beard
i’m bringin’ mr. t back!
my bro called and said, “chef”
i say, “bless”
he said, “don’t they find treasure in the bottom of the ocean?”
i say, “yes”
he say, “so why you battlin’ joseph? you already ahead a couple steps”
‘cause you have to p-ss wav’ (wave) when you bury that chess (chest)!
but it’s mr. “debatable” ‘til i squeeze a k
it’s gon’ hit you, or your people’s face
now it’s really debatable, ‘cause i’mma put it to one (2-1) either way!
n-gga, you can’t get street wit’ me!
if you go to talkin’ wild, you better speak quickly
if you beef wit’ me, you’ll get the mac wit’ the bandanna tied around
i’ll do the scene gritty
aim down, wit’ the rag over wav’ (wave): watch him 360!
you ain’t done much
you let your shorty twerk on stage, you lil’ dumb f-ck?
if i let a ratchet show her -ss, everybody gon’ witness a gun-b-tt!
your temple split
it’s crazy i’m the one in love wit’ the gun…but you the one pistol-whipped!
i don’t get ya kind
ain’t n0body shootin’ sh-t but me, this pistol mine
it’s not far from us
the ratchet jet-black: it’s my n-gga .9
it’s gettin’ tragic for you
b-tch-made n-gga, you’ll let your homie clap it for you?
do the damage for you?
well, your best friend can turn to a dead man
he can go from your best man to holdin’ ya casket for you
n-gga, i don’t give that nike check and the rose where you stand at
n-gga, everybody in a golden state ‘til they in a coma state for three months
the wesson the hand clap
long .30, have him curled up for a season: he’ll take a kevin durant nap
n-gga, f-ck it
i say, n-gga, i’m goin’ wit’ the basketball sh-t, and this n-gga will miss if he let it ring
like, literally, he’ll (hill) miss the shot, then the smith’ll f-ck up everything!
time, time

[round 2: mr. wavy]
this n-gga actin’ like he chosen
close-range shot, you know he open
nah, nah, i said close-range shot
what you movin’? what you movin’?
(-cl!ck, cl!ck, cl!ck-)
my smith f-ckin’ up: “j.r., what the f-ck you doin’!?”
don’t come for me unless you sent fo’
yeah, he the chef, but your restaurant don’t got the “a” in the window
lemme talk to him
see, reb-ttalin’ is clever…but it don’t make you better
that’s why your stats missin’
all he do is he’ll flip another n-gga profile of work onsite
you kinda catfishin’
sometimes the reb-ttal be fire, but sometimes the sh-t be -ss
i’m not gon’ pretend, dude
see, they might not boo ‘cause they not tryin’ to offend you
you only get reaction ‘cause your freestyle be off the top, just like the name of the venue
o-red said your-
he said your verses be better than-
no, he said your reb-ttals be better than your verses…
see, this why i’m your worst dream
your style unique, but sometimes, you gotta expose things
see, they may temporarily be blinded by the bullsh-t
but after a while, they gon’ all see right through you: you a smokescreen
f-ck you mean? this a walk-up head tap
‘cause you was hype off of that chess match
but dead that, ‘cause south park was the last time we saw a chef black – facts!
wait, wait, wait, but before i get in my zone quick and unload clips
i think it’d be dope if i reb-ttal my own sh-t
like, y’all remember south park, right?
it had kenny, cartman, kyle, and i think stan on it…
no – can he dip?
‘cause what’s in my cart? man, a .50-cal’ wit’ the stand on it
in url, stop thinkin’ that you hard
prep and ryda both beat you – stop thinkin’ that you god
jc crossed you out like the logo of a lincoln on a car
trez went to work with rum and got f-cked up
the chef shouldn’t have been drinkin’ on the job!
y’all want bars? keep it real
i know, i know, old trez fans is like, “yo, wavy bringin’ up old battles-”
i’ll tell you what’s the deal
y’all watch football? then you know the drill
‘cause it’s like a quarterback versus a quarterback
see, we both goin’ head-to-head
but the stats was all determined how you did against the n-ggas in the field
fire, n-gga!
i’m on my bully!
brooklyn sh-t, n-gga, my mind dangled
i’ll bring a tres-cinco-siete to trez: we speakin’ bilingual!
he in parentheses, multiply: we doin’ times tables
try to dip, i fire sticks: i couldn’t find cable!
body shot! body drop!
but a face shot will change how god made you
y’all star ain’t gon’ be the same after the shot: he got kawhi angles
i’ll flame you, but i move smart
see, i defend wit’ honor
heart cold, empty monster
who actin’? i ain’t win any oscars
you blood? well, your loved one will get a red box
maybe ya aunt, ya mama
wait – a red box is aunt jemima
look, i handle llamas and send the drama to end the karma
have the chef surrounded: reservations at benihana’s!
usually, it’s middle fingers up: f-ck what you believe
if y’all the x-men, you’d be jubilee – who disagree?
that weapon i state? close to my mid wess’ (midwest): tennessee
think i’m gon’ lighten up behind these rounds? i ain’t dj kid capri
i’m in the streets
monopoly game board: keep a piece
.38, do the spinaroonie: booker t!
look at me! look at me!
look at me, n-gga!
look at me! i can tell you wanna clone sh-t
but i think it’d be dope if i reb-ttal my own sh-t
now remember this last survivor series? now this guy can relate
but you gon’ dig it, sucka
he gon’ die to escape
i did the spinaroonie, then waved a 5 in his face!
you told chess, “without the chef cookin’, ain’t n0body eatin’ in this sh-t”
…no, that’s what them cave n-ggas told you before you got done wit’ the clique
i see it now
ave was like, “you a chef? mu’f-cka, bring that plate right back
i want a steal, well-done – n-gga, straight like that!”
brizz heard him, too
he was like, “oh, so you a chef, huh?”
trez like, “of course, five”
he said, “i want an omelet, toast…but i like mines a little on the dark side.”
you know tay roc heard this n-gga, right?
“if you cookin’ for the cave, my n-gga, it better be dead nice!
i want a cheeseburger wit’ no pickles, n-gga – that’s light!”
chef trez, he ran to the kitchen
that n-gga’s so eager to flame
he like, “d-mn, if they f-ck wit’ me, i’mma be gang gang gang
i ain’t gotta battle none of them n-ggas! all my enemies changed!”
“yo, where the f-ck my food!?”
trez came back wit’ all three of them thangs!
he lookin’ at me like, “he not niiiice!”
he’s sayin’ a bunch of things that me no liiiike!
n-ggas ampin’ you up to go go and fight
too bad you ain’t gon’ be champion of the night
that’s round 2, y’all know i came to chalk him out
i’ll look him dead in his face and ask him, “f-ck is you talkin’ ‘bout?”
wavy

[round 2: chef trez]
i say…i was on the job, right
doin’ what i do, goin’ through some sh-t, but my mental like, “don’t let it stop you.”
my n-gga ave like, “make my sh-t straight. like. that.”
i said, “aight, my n-gga, i got you.”
tay roc said, “n-gga…”
“aight, my n-gga, i got you.”
brizz say-
“aight, my n-gga, i got you.”
so i’m in the worksp-ce and they tellin’ me to never be lackin’
‘cause a n-gga might come in, and n-ggas be actin’ savage
so if a n-gga rob me while i’m makin’ all three of them thangs, it’d be his worst day
and i was drinkin’ on the job – chef keep the .40 in the workplace
i say, you supposed to be top-tier at this point, wavy!
i know the fact that you stuck in the same spot got you goin’ crazy
you got a nice movement, but your career dead, and you can’t fight through it
‘cause your biggest moment is bein’ a zombie, so it’s impossible to bring life to it
i’ll get this man a coffin
spin his block wit’ the hammer sparkin’
the arm out the window, wav’ (wave), like i seen family walkin’
i can’t stand the talkin’, but let me get the feel dawg is violent
i’mma drop the situation…wit’ ya jaw behind it!
you tired b-tch!
beat shine fast-rappin’ -ss, and think you at the top of the chain, n-gga?
well, i got a k spittin’ wit’ rapid-fire
let’s see if the outcome be the same, n-gga!
you was on big stages
it don’t bother you that you here?
it’s crazy you made noise beatin’ twork, but he the one that added volume to (volume 2) his career
you wasn’t wildin’ out!
you wasn’t wit’ us on every stage fightin’ ‘til the vets started dyin’ out
you was dyin’ out, in bed-stuy, hidin’ out
well, for all that runnin’, get shot in the leg
you wasn’t ridin’ out
but think he savage
i’ll put a big cap to a goon knee (gooonie): he’ll take the ryda route
just leave the venue before you get your life damaged
in real situations, he might panic
you better bolt (boat)
let that sink in, wav’ (wave), like the t-tanic
this sucka done!
n-ggas always backin’ out on you, makin’ you have to reschedule, you f-ckin’ bum
if i back out on you in a battle, they’ll never be able to book you for another one!
you can’t write wit’ me
or post on the block for a night wit’ me, servin’ nice sticky
when you bag it up, it look like you handin’ out rice krispies
see, i played ball and ran the streets
and wit’ that same line, exactly why i played point guard
‘cause i could make calls for the trap and go for the steel (steal) at the same time
you told twork, “two k’s (2k), horizontal view: n-ggas playin’ on broadcast”
aw, you play 2k, too?
well, i got two k’s, too
they work best when you aim down on a n-gga: we in 2k view!
i’m doin’ dawg tragic
i’m strapped up, plain .9 wit’ the sparks blastin’
n0body gon’ jeopardize my career (mycareer), plus i doubt you part savage
online, he mean, but run in-person, get caught lackin’
won’t even make it off his feet before the shot get released, like the park laggin’!
aye, that bucket hat chef? they used to like those days
and that’s what you gettin’ now, you ‘bout to die on stage
remember that small gun, n-gga? yeah, mine gon’ spray
but you don’t see the heat, just hear it when it go off: it’s micro, wav’ (microwave)
i’ll come to where he stay-

(-suddenly, a scuffle breaks out off-camera at the back of the venue, and everybody looks at where the fight is happening to try and stop the situation. a brief pause in the action-)

aye, now that sh-t threw me off
yo…
i say, n-gga, i had this sh-t painted perfectly
yo, i said, i had this sh-t crafted perfectly, but n-ggas sabotagin’ the f-ckin’ picture
all that fightin’ in the crowd, whatever, dawg, y’all some sucka n-ggas
now, smack, i’m sorry this sh-t had to happen
you know i’m f-ckin’ wit’ ya
but when you punch like this, it usually got influence on other n-ggas!
yo, i say, i’ll come to where you stay, sn-tchin’ ya sh-t
k!llin’ ya mom, dad, b-tch, dog, even the cat in ya crib
leave out, but remember i forgot to shoot joseph, so i backtrack to that b-tch
since i forgot the wav’ (to wave), it’s only right i come back wit’ the fif’
you crazy if you try and scr-p
he wanna fade me, ‘til he the one i spray the .9 at
he had heart ‘til i left wavy lyin’ (line) flat!
he ain’t really made for this life
directin’ the church, lord
you ever cause pain to n-ggas for real? well, i hurt more
gang sh-t, f-ck your beliefs
we could have a turf war
shotgun sh-lls hittin’ wav’ (wave): look like a surfboard!
look, wavy, i’mma lose my cool if you lie in another line
you ain’t clutchin’ .9’s or hittin’ l!cks
you give off a frontin’ vibe
you don’t know about wearin’ winter clothes in the summertime
hat, mask, long sleeves and gloves: look like a f-ckin’ mime
time

[round 3: mr. wavy]
spit dat heat, writer’s bloque, bullpen…
now you cave gang
chef trez should be yo’ slave name
spit dat heat where you was knockin’ at
writer’s bloque is where you locked in at
bullpen, you coulda been on top of that
now you cave ga-?
we gotta put a stop to that
see, ‘cause you blood don’t mean you gotta be everywhere what’s (wuz) poppin’ at
but i guess he think this his season end (seasoning)
but, trez, everything i do, i move around wit’ ingredients
like my whip the color of paprika
my honey know i’m touchin’ a lot of state cheese
so bae seal (basil) her mouth and don’t say things
she just there to get that onion powdered and then bae (bay) leave
but chill, he (chili) on that powder
but yet, n-ggas done rolled the dice on him
i understand you the chef, but let me mix up these words, but sprinkle spice on ‘em
like, you’ll get kidnapped, you and your bae sealed (basil) for about 100 hours
bow! the soul of your bae (bay) leave when that pap reek her (paprika)
but don’t think i ain’t got nothin’ louder
‘cause if the guard l!ck (garlic) a shot, then trez leave wit’ that onion powdered
you’se a f-ckin’ coward, and you don’t really be ready to ride
real beef, you can’t sleep knowin’ your opps is alive
you be official, paranoia, it be all in your mind
n-ggas think that you cool, n-ggas think that you fine
but f-ck that, ‘cause you about to be a victim of mine
you stare like you got heart, but to me, his vision is blind
your style not intimidatin’, i see it all in your vibes
hazel contacts, yo, trez – lightin’ up wit’ them eyes
‘cause a face problem, n-ggas’ll straight rob him
pull out a grip, you got a .8 problem
hammer over your eyebrows like a fitted wit’ a gray bottom
he from golden state? warrior?
man, i’ll make this sh-t hotter than south beach
catch you out east, this face shot final
bow! now the chef got a real reason to lose that mouthpiece!
i’m the wrong man, wit’ a long can
hammer everywhere that i go like i’m a thor fan
he step and get hit wit’ the left…i used the wrong hand
but i still gave him somethin’ for nothin’: n-gga, this god’s plan!
act like you tarzan!
come swing through my ‘hood like you that guy!
mac fly!
stomach shot, he feel it in his gut like a bad vibe!
keep calm, don’t act shy
you blood-bang, you that guy
i’ll hit five wit’ a four-fif’: sound like a cap size
headshot: i changed his cap size!
blood all over the body: n-gga got baptized!
we don’t do subs, i’m really at (@) guys
since brizz ain’t wanna jump in the ring, i had to attack five
they thought you was trash!
i ain’t look at you like no wack guy
so before y’all label me an undertaker, don’t hold this body over my head ‘cause this his last ride!
finish him!
‘cause n-ggas tried to forget wav’
well, i’m back, sharp as a switchblade
get brave
i’m wild n’ out wit’ a cannon, but i ain’t nick age
yo, p, i could’ve took that bread and not showed up, like i used one of my sick days
four promotions! another promotion! n-gga, the fif’ (fifth) raised!
i’m strapped in!…
nah, n-gga, i already clapped him!
the pool stick is back in
the kickback made me backspin
i rewind: backspin
moonwalk: mike jackson!
my bro still shootin’ – he f-ck around and clap him!
‘cause i don’t even feel the need to write for this n-gga!
i’m not gon’ hold you, i was tight i had to write for this n-gga
if you was hungry, i wouldn’t share a bite wit’ this n-gga
domino’s pizza: he wouldn’t give a slice to this n-gga!
f-ck that! i’ll probably give a slice to this n-gga!
look at your kicks – i don’t even like the nikes on this n-gga!
if he was gettin’ jumped, extra leg work
i’ll exercise-bike on this n-gga!
swear to god, i will break every const-tutional right on this n-gga!
‘cause i swear to god, he be leadin’ the people!
you said some sh-t wit’ some confidence, and i swear they believed you!
you said, “ar in the pants leg” and you walk regular ‘cause you used to it
ar in his pants-
ar in them pants legs! and you walk regular ‘cause you used to it
ar in the-
where was you goin’?
who you had beef wit’!?
you was walkin’ reg-
s-so n-ggas ain’t peep sh-t?
see, that combat? n-ggas don’t really be on that!
i respond back!
don’t be lyin’ (lion) on the arm like a lebron tat’

- lirik lagu urltv

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