B Magic vs. RemyD

[Round 1: B Magic]
Final Foe, that's a real nigga rap crew
But Rem' team, fuck naw nigga that dude
Sister Mary Clarence-ass Sister Act crew
So I'ma draw like Sketch on Sister Act 2
This the proof, I will shoot, this little dancing-ass nigga
Backstreet, NSYNC, Hanson-ass nigga
You just wanna talk, Tevin Campbell-ass nigga
Till I knock his ribs out, Marilyn Manson that nigga
And I put that on Final Foe, on the Foe, catch homie chilling
If you hear his cap peel, then you know who did it
This is wrong, murder gone, you don't know the feeling
But you can find ya' whole group dead, like Otis Williams
Now that's a temptation, get ya' belly stained
Murder Mob motherfucker, that's a deadly gang
I let the fucking MAC sing: Etta James
Till they let you in the gates: Eddie Kane
That's heaven man, we ain't neck to neck
When I draw it shake him up, no Etch A Sketch
I been schooling niggas, you gon' get ya' lesson next
Leave dude red man like he got connects with Meth
Giving him bucks, B Magic not giving a fuck
Hydraulic pump shells, lifting him up
Seen him on a black street, no doubt, no diggity yup
He was the fag who was under more dickies than Chucks
Magic leave the microphone crushed
You suck dick for shows, you a microphone slut
Wouldn't nod to ya' music ho if I was on dust
When I squeeze you gon' break: Styrofoam cup
Better duck when I bust, you can see who team
Acting hard for ya' boys they gon' see you scream
I got two new bangers I'ma need new beams
To put a M on that ass: Diesel jeans
We too mean, you shoot six we shoot back twelve
My bars leave residue and that crack smell
You ain't a gangster motherfucker, but you act well
Give you pretty wings 'cause B Magic handle MACs well
Catch a MAC shell, that's what you least expected
I know you pussy 'cause you smell, like a yeast infection
I spit dope and everything that I speak infectious
We all locs so we shake hands with the C connected
Come heat-protected, when you walking boy
'Cause me and my niggas roll deep, that's often boy
We gangbang 'round, [?] boy
And get to throwing up signs: crossing guards
I'm out to win, the MAC I grip is out to sin
Bullets to the back of ya' head and out ya' chin
I doubt you win, bitch you ain't allowed to grin
If you smile too hard, Juice, punch him in his mouth, again
Speaking of that, since then, I ain't heard you win yet
So beating you is double the fun like twin sex
Kick ya' jaw with the Nikes call it chin-check
No hooping game when I'm shooting at a Rem', yes
I'm the best bruh ya' bitch give me neck tough
Call the bitch Morris 'cause I like to give her chest nuts
Pull her Ong-Bak but I call it The Protector
Put my hands on this little nigga: molester
Microphone checker, 40 start hitting him
Call Jennifer Hewitt when his ghost start whispering
B Magic killing him, that's another story 'do
Throw shells at this motherfucker: Super Mario
Best ever audio, ever-been-recorded flow
Listen you recording though? This is what I wanna know
Where you from you fucking bum? Magic gonna spark
Get ya' brother hit man, like Owen Hart
Car bomb, when you start it it's gon' blow apart
Got animals who sell water: Noah's ark
I'm the shit, I'm acting a damn fool
I cut ya' fucking throat and then clap in the damn wound
If it's ya' job, ya' crew is asking to ban you
So I'ma send you on vacation like National Lampoon
Watch Remy turn bitch when the chrome pop
When it come to these bars I got long stock
Boy you just put ya' food, in the wrong pot
Edward Jones guns, I give a nigga dome shots
Like a Charger better dodge when you see me
Ya' bitch said ya' lil' john couldn't skeet skeet
Juvenal can tell this turkey's a BG
Nut in her mouth ya' bitch kissing babies: Weezy
Boy if you ain't got the heater then scram
We all know you used to taking beatings on cam
I'll give him a lifeline, 'cause he needing it fam
Somebody tell this jackass my guns viva la bam
Pleased to meet you, my three-eight blast
Turn this fruit vegetable: V8 Splash
I heard you and ya' two homies was some three-way fags
And I'm futuristic like them rappers outta GA, ask
Killing this nigga, bring out the body bags
If he don't die, he gon' need a body cast
Strap poking out the back like I got a ass
B Magic doper than that one shit Bobby had
I got a killer flow, ask around these niggas know
My bars is sick, yeah I'll kill this ho
Niggas know what it is I'm the best cuz
And I ain't stepping none-

[Round 1: RemyD]
A wise man told me, when you in the game, niggas on the bench hate watching it
Sideline commentators, stay talking a lotta shit
Hate me all you want, criticize, I don't acknowledge it
Fact is, my fuckups more successful than your accomplishments
I ain't take this battle 'cause old boy is major
I did this shit 'cause I feel like I owe Oweboy a favor
Oweboy you got this Midwest battle scene cracking
Established Street
Status, showed St. Louis got some mean talent
But had to call me back in 'cause these new dudes keep slacking
If RemyD in a ring match, it's a guaranteed classic
Right? No, Owe ain't even bring me a challenge
After all the careers you done seen me damage
After I took a brief absence to grieve the passing of my younger brother
You give me this motherfucker, B.....Maggot, Magic
I will turn this nigga name to B Tragic
When I be blacking so hard this weak faggot he'll be the same color as B-Rabbit
See Street
Status raised me, from them World Wars I grew
In my early days niggas could see I had more IQ
Instead of saying "You'll get ate like four times two"
I'd be like "For the cheese I'll go ham on this chicken: cordon bleu"
See it's a difference, you don't get it, I'm a genius, you a fool
If you a fan of this nigga here, you easily amused
People don't like 'cause they attracted to rap about grimy concepts
Yo' fans are folks easily distracted by shiny objects
Liar stop it, you wouldn't shoot bullets from a hammer
Please, you wouldn't shoot footage on a camera
I could put him in a casket, that they put up by the pastor
Or just put him in a cast, for looking like a actor
It's RemyD, I got a flow to cure the masses wit'
Since these other emcees swear they rapping sick
I'm purely talented, surely accurate tactics
That'll have this nigga pissed off, like urinalysis
I make rappers quit, and deny they had a verse made
My wordplay make him feel like a germ sprayed with first aid
I serve pain the worst way, burn cremate him take urn space or throw him in a earth grave
No casket, how that dirt taste?
You wanna compete, I'll enter you in a worm race
If the worms moving, you not, guess the worms take first place
I hurt lames, he a bitch, so in her case
She gon' get her face stomped in the ground till the earth quake and the curb break
I got reserved space in this game, not 'cause my verse great
Per say the reason I'm preferred nothing I said was heard fake
But this nigga the worst case of a dirt-stain absurd gay blade tryna claim game since the third day of high school, dude been scared straight
And it's not 'cause he was on the wrong path, out class skipping
Not a outcast pitching contraband clout for stash dealings
He got caught without a hall pass, hour of detention
He saw the Lord's call and got devout 'bout religion
Now this proud Christian mention pow-pow bidness
If I don't drown out his sentence, I'ma roundhouse kick him
I keep telling myself he just a loudmouth bitching
But I'm a mild schizophrenic that ran out of my prescription
Now, I get to flipping, twitching out animalistic
Go wild up on a mission, prowling 'bout to get him
Forget about the crowd, you win shrouds, cloud his vision
And hop out like a lion when it's pouncing on a victim
I'm gouging out his eyes, rip his nostrils off, sniff 'em
Reach in his mouth, snatch his tongue out, smile and then kick it
Start howling at the ceiling with a coyote resemblance
Jump down look around, start growling at the women
Foul malicious violence what you now about to witness
The scene gon' look like a crime that a crocodile committed
911, start dialing up the digits
Humane Society and SWAT team gotta surround every entrance
It sound very vicious, but I lack a sane half a brain I actually may grab a blade and amputate ya' hands and face I have a shank
Stab a place, burst your wound, gaps and space
Through ya' body tissue, you now resemble a basket crate
I'm a basket case, needing some help please
I keep hearing bells ring and people that yell screams
These voices in my head, and the things that they tell me
Got me scheming evil things like when demons in hell think
Like, creep where he dwell put the heat where he smell
Keep him still while fingering his girl like reading in Braille
I'm tryna tell this nigga sleeping ain't healthy
You better off, popping Ambien and dreaming on Elm Street
You know what, I hate this nigga, 'cause he talk hard, but he really a bitch
Got the nerve to criticize me, he ain't really did shit
When St. Louis go to war, they call RemyD quick
I'm frontline front-and-center for my city's events
Who you know, go anywhere, stand for the home turf
Demanding to go first then spaz on a whole verse
Never passed on a challenge, if it happened to go worse
I took damage no bandage, happy to go hurt nigga
I got here, only God I fear
Black Sunday, to the World War battles, I was not scared
Lionz Den was pussyfooting, kidding when we got there
Fight Klub flipped the script on me and Ill, the shit was not fair
Grind Time judges robbed me my first time there
But that ain't stop me 'cause in the Midwest I'm top tier
I will not spare yo' life I swear on it
I'll even kill ya' kids so yo' heir won't win
Now it's to the point the shit ain't fun
Y'all all know RemyD spit sharp, I got a switchblade tongue
You couldn't beat me if you was Jay-Z's son with Kanye's drums had Drake's mixtape buzz and all of Lil Wayne drugs
This bitch ain't touch my level, his reach ain't long enough
Can't bite my style, ya' teeth ain't strong enough
Can't fight my crowd ya' team ain't holding up
Rap like a child but you look like you old as fuck