JC vs T-Top

[Round 1: T-Top + JC]
I said, Smack said, "Top, you got Julian and his hooligans
He wild on Rum Nitty, son, and he ready to act a fool again"
You know what he gon' do, right?
Have his little-ass body wavin' all of them tools again
Or pop, lock, and drop it - depend on what kind of mood he in
I don't like him
If a pro test and this don't work, I'm gon' strike him
Or I stick two knives in his head: we goin' Viking
Yeah, I heard you be around street fighters: you know Bison
But the first round sittin' him down: we know Tyson!
Nah, nah, I'm Mayweather, way better
But the poison's different
You think your punches land in the building, until they score 'em different
You want a fo', I want a four
b*tch, we order different
Styrofoam vers' a silencer, 'cause we pour it different!
The aura different
I ain't feelin' ya games
You play poker, I play poke 'em: this a serious gain
So when he rap now, they saying his delivery changed
'Cause when I caught him in the liver, he changed
n*gga, what you know about duckin' the Alphabet Boys wit' a throwaway cake
But still preparing yourself for your go-away date?
Felony or misdemeanor? I don't know what they say
Dot on his head, or should I catch the lower case, J?
And in case we speaking on a radio show
sh*t, I was busy making coke moves
Only cooking over the stove, n*gga: I'm old-school
They tried to get me to indict myself, but it ain't go smooth
I'm talking fed case and Flex place
Let's just say I choked up in both rooms!
We know dude!
He ain't in the ghetto with the bullies
He was Chilla back then: we liked you better as a rookie!
You'll never get Lux, and I'm just tellin' him what's goody
Trey to his head: at least he gettin' mellow wit' the hoodie!
n*gga, what the f*ck you gon' teach me, homie!?
b*tch, I'm the teacher
You look like the n*gga we stuffed under the bleachers
He's walking in his hotel lobby
If I see ya, they'll find a Midwest b*tch in the freezer: Kenneka!
Your best friend watchin' you die: Monifah!
Baldheads takin' the baby: Khalifa!
Smoke goin' straight to the head: sativa!
I came here to spread JC like a preacher, n*gga!
And speaking of Jesus, didn't they say he stopped gambling, cuttin' off all our chicken?
He stopped pimpin', when we was just f*cking off with our women?
They said we can't even wear Jesus pieces, 'cause he don't want us worshiping no other image
It's a fact: JC been hatin' on hustlers since the beginning!
You been winning? Well, look who you been battlin', bro
They ain't even like yo' ass three-and-a-half battles ago!
Now you want Lux?
What make you think you gon' battle the GOAT?
After they talk about how the Bear had yo' ass on the ropes
His mans wit' him, that's cool, I'm stabbin' ‘em both
And move the knives around in circles like I'm paddlin' boats
Your wifey, headshot while she relaxin' in bed
Your daughter run? "Pow! Pow!" to the back of her leg
I bet your son act different wit' a Mac to his head
This life insurance...it's takin' care of the family right after you dead, n*gga!
"I'm the best in the WORLD!"
Facts!
Well, tonight, you gotta match what you said
'Cause we been waitin'...it's 'bout time JC came back from the dead
My grandma told me you was comin'...yeah, that's what she said
But she ain't tell me he was 5'2", clappin' the lead
A Vice Lord, wit' a bandana wrapped on his leg
I thought Jesus ran with disciples...ain't that what we read!?
He set-switching, and I heard he was a rat for the Feds
That died last week from sh*t that Illmaculate said
Well, he gon' memorize this next round when I'm blastin' the lead
BOW...it's gon' make him spit it out, or he wrappin' his head, n*gga!
And after you dead, tell the clique that I'mma find y'all
The stick knock 'em down in order: we playin' 9-ball
When I put the deuce to his chest like John Wall
He gon' have a seizure up in the ring like Scott Hall
Aye, Scott Hall! Chico! Stay in your home!
I almost put the razor's edge on Razor Ramon!
And I ain't come here to beat JC, I came to over-win
They say he won his last 9 rounds...well, let's go for 10
Concrete, n*gga

[Round 1: JC]
Aye, aye
Every letter
Y'all know y'all need to hear everything
Y'all ready?
T-Top...you looked like you was in the L.A. Riot the way you attacked Ave wit' the stealin', bro
But this ain't that same spot
I'm 'bout to permanently flame Top...like Bam-Bam Bi-
Nah, this sh*t so different, bro
You don't even sound the same without half of yo' n*ggas
And that will go figure
'Cause I'm the same with no n*ggas with me
That's 'cause no b*tch is in me like Calicoe picture
But it don't-
We talking to ME! Is you SERIOUS!?
But it don't mean the ratchet not with me, tho
So don't jump stupid, Top
You could rock a vest, it will peel through...and rock a fella
Crazy how people gave you all of that heart, and it still killed you
I watched yo' class and half of the vets struggle in a battle with Chess
Then I showed y'all Chess in park, and I was just playing
I'm Sam Jackson in Fresh
And now a fat n*gga...supposed to get sh*t jumpin'?
Clips dumpin'!
Through traffic the way I'm moving
sh*t, I'll even take an Uber to lift somethin'
I'm EVERYWHERE!
Who auctioned this!?
When you know a n*gga got yo' number, just call it quits!
You went from UDubb tryouts to playing with FIRE...
We gotta show Ars' son what arson is!
It don't work like that
Y'all be putting sh*t together without instructions...
Man, you will get hurt like that!
Even HE know it!
But this touch, king...might as well be golden!
'Cause only broke n*ggas in the streets believe you
We don't need a sequel!
You not that good in the ring if Goodz in the ring, rappin' 'bout his ring and beat you!
Be honest! Be honest!
Everything about your flow is presented poorly
But I was made gifted
And all them sticky fingers gon' get you sniped...but the blade's different!
See, this is your fault
This is HIS fault!
He just had to get stuck in traffic
And now, he the next one smokin'...
sh*t, Jesse Owens ain't had a run this classic
Best in the WORLD, n*gga!
All you rap about is trap, king!
See, they didn't appreciate the structure
I had to define the difference
So, now I'm guessing you need a trap queen?
See, it's easy to be Fetty Wap...I was missin'!
But I'm back!
Motivated to kill your family from the start
And the last man this inspired restarted humanity from a ark!
You don't know a n*gga like this
But he in bad company, and that's fun for me
As far as tactics, I don't know what the hell you use
But that sh*t more repetitive than a Zelda move
You don't even have the brain capacity to match with me
It's funny...Top heavy, but not top-heavy
See, that combination...not deadly
But since you glorifyin' the streets, BOW!
Right in the streets where the pops left him
Deja vu...
You mention servin' yo' moms like street n*ggas haven't heard of that sh*t, too
You served crack, and she smoked it...
Every n*gga in here would've been servin' that b*tch, too!
"Facts! I need money!"
You don't get credit for that
If you got a point, acknowledge it ain't been heard much
Just trap talk! That's all!
Fastball from Randy Johnson, how the birds bust
And then it's this
If I send a hit, and he just...dead pull with the mask off
And he survive? You gon' look like Deadpool with the mask off
This is facts!
That's a movie!
This? Ryan Reynolds rap!
He get laid in dirt, and to make it worse?
It ain't the last time I'm gon' play a trick after April...and it ain't the first!
So my advice? Just don't be in the field when it clap
'Cause the feeling of that heat surrounding this big b*tch gon' give y'all way more than a Wendy Williams collapse!
It's bodybags at every battle! Make sure your homie found one
But do not jump in that b*tch yet, 'cause this is only Round 1!

[Round 2: T-Top]
I said, I feel like Shane Moseley in '03, dawg
I'm fixing to fight
Or Roy Halladay...'cause you'll crash if you feel these, king
Picture the flight
Did he think he was a bad boy?
Well, I figured he right
'Cause when I locks on him, I give J the kiss of his life!
If we beefin', you leaving with a hole in ya head
If we was locked up, you'd be that n*gga over the bed!
Telling me stories about his battles
All happy 'bout how his rounds used to go over heads
I'm telling him stories 'bout the Uzi
All mad, like, "Dawg, my rounds used to go over he-"
Ayo, SMACK! I will SMACK this n*gga!
What the f*ck is this!?
You bringin' breakdancers to battles? You don't f*cking quit!
It's loaded in the hoodie
That meaning your luck's up wit' this
Gotta kill you before I die: it's on my bucket list
Cut the sh*t, or either grab a toaster
Yeah, I rap about hard times and a bag of yola
But still feel like 2K18 when I'm spazzin', soldier
'Cause y'all knew who the player of the game was before the match was over!
n*gga, me and Brizz put a whole region on, and did it all by ourselves
He running 'round, league to league
He don't belong wit' the belt
See, that's the reason Smack and Beas' put your bars on the shelf
It's Solitaire, n*gga: yeah, you dealt them cards to yourself!
When you left the league, you act like you was taking a stand
Not knowing that it was a big mistake for your brand
‘Cause now you making $700 and an extra plane for ya mans
Ain't it mysterious how he put in all that work and still ain't making a band?
I told Smack, “Bring him back! Give that playa a chance
He do good? Then give him Lux!"
sh*t, I gave him the plan
He heard that news, and started goin' crazy for fans
So I'm the reason J blacked: he should be shaking my hand!
I mean, damn!
You always had bars...just weren't making the right gestures yet
You got shook, and disappeared off the screen: you was a Etch-a-Sketch
We was gettin' views, you couldn't even watch the edits yet
We was droppin' jewels...you was stealin' 'em out the treasure chest