Chilla Jones vs. Danny Myers

Full lyrics to the entertaining, bar-heavy clash between Writers Bloque crew-mates.

Watch the battle here.

Round One

Chilla Jones

New York I'm back, fresh off of bodying Prep, did y'all miss me?

I heard Danny get punch drunk in bar fights, leavin niggas all tipsy.

So I'm supposed to be scared to let the BarGod get me?

Well, call me the BarDevil.

‘Cause what I say tend(Satan) to hit and you'll loose if a(Lucifer) bar miss me.

This what gets me. He aiight. Good bars, nice performance.

But y'all amp em like a champion. Y’all treat him like he Michael Jordan.

Well I'ma put you in this plain(plane) black box, like a flight recording;

Ay, ARP…I hope this nigga got life insurance.

‘Cause tonight we warring. I don't care if it's a gat by ya,

I'll aim the nine, flame his spine: that's when it back-fired.

He'll hit the ground, then I'll stand over that clown like "I did you bad, Myers",

And be the nigga he looking up to, since I’m who he ad-mires.

Now if there was a billboard, for overhyped battlers, you would be in that ad, Myers,

You said you punch in 90% of your bars… but use 2 bar setups, hmm…

Can you add, Myers?

Well I'ma bag Myers. Homie sound pathetic on wax,

I'll run up in his studio, you could bet that I'm strapped,

Open the door to the booth and throw lead in your back,

Now that's my way, of stopping a nigga dead in his tracks.

Matter fact, I gotta right(write) for you. Come and get this hook from me.

Sidenote: you look ugly.

And how you never got paid for these battles you book, dummy?

Now trust me, I'm good money.

Homie you Shang Tsung: tryna be the sole(soul) owner of a style you took from me,

this crook funny.

He brought the D.A. to(2) NY, so I waited ’til his ride came thru,

jumped in the V, and made ‘em C K’s between his two I's,

and left shells beside they shoes,

now two bars ago, I spelled his fuckin name out…

and you know it, ‘cause you got the mind frame to,

but what you probably didn’t notice is in the bar after that,

I spelled your wife’s name too.

This what I do. The burner hold rounds like a Discmaker.

Get Black buried over games like it’s Brick Breaker.

You got me in my old Zone, that's big Danja.

Machete chop em at the watch; I’m a wrist-taker.

They mistake this kid for a mad scientist,

Dr. Jekyll, with a split personality but I Hyde the shit.

You pussy. Open this vagina lips you’ll find a clit.

This is light, but seeing son die’ll(sundial) show niggas what time it is.

And why insist I got my style from a son, nigga? Jones is smart.

I ain’t falling for that stunt, so how niggas figure I’m Owen Hart?

I came to set this bitch on fire, like Joan of Ark.

On the poll he in (Napoleon) the lead,

but I’m breaking every bone apart (Bonaparte).

I know I'm sharp. On a one to ten scale I'm a fuckin million,

I’m something brilliant. Battle rap's Russell Wilson,

but not ‘cause I'm destined to be a legend after big moves to come,

but ‘cause even though I see errors(Ciara’s) in my present,

I’ll be fathering the Future, son.

Now shoot your gun. It’s lights out if I blow the flame.

A shot in your mouth’ll numb your jaw like novocaine.

In Phoenix, you told Chaz you brought that “Ch” to “AZ”.

Well I shouldn’t have to load and aim and let that toaster bang

to show you my “Ch” illa, you know the name.

I control the game. So you might’ve battled dudes who sound like me,

But you ain’t never stood in front of three rounds like these. Bosstown.

Danny Myers

I was reading an article about you, it said Chilla Jones top pen.

And I can't even tell you the rest, 'cause I stopped then.

I mock men, “screep” up on him 'cause his people wildin' out,

then plug in the back of his head like Neo dialing out.

Him beating me? Nigga keep dreaming. You just gon keep scheming.

Before there was Scheme Street, me and my niggas was in the streets scheming.

Streets fiending to see two beast demons’ damn writing.

We lock horns like rams fighting. I'm fast enough to can lightning.

I should let the hands strike em, open palm like I'm slap boxing.

This is when Bruce Lee was fighting Chuck Norris with the cat watching.

Rap’s his profession; I had to invest in a Crack option.

Seven shots in rapid succession from a black Dotson.

Chilla be pointing niggas out in the crowd: he Matlock-ing.

He better make sure he lock his Holmes, I’m a black Watson.

I swear, I'm from where there were no necks they spared.

The night was illuminated by the tecs they flared.

Ironically, due to lack of male(mail) in the house,

niggas had to grow up overnight or get next day aired.

Chilla’s a snitch, real shit, so when I cock it, he's a corpse.

I don’t care if I’m with my kids and he's spotted from the porch.

Those coke sales were plotted from my thoughts.

How I get that Benz? He know, (Benzino), Boston cops got it from the Source.

You’re getting your career stretched; you ain't nowhere near vet.

This tough act I ain't worried about, that gun talk is mere threats.

I got a gun so big...that when I catch you,

I gotta let you slide, 'cause the train it's on ain't even here yet.

Fear death. Slugs push and leave a thug shook.

That mini gun got me walking like I was born with a clubbed foot.

Bitch nigga my whole mob stunting, everyone of 'em five dumping;

paramedics'll have to use pressure and apply everywhere like they job hunting.

I know Boston got gangs, but I ain't tripping 'cause im toy popping.

Throw them sets up. We ride through and pick at (picket) signs like we boycotting.

I'm doing you how a Boss should do; this gon be a loss for you.

They can't keep this puncher in a cage;

you know how much that would cost a zoo? (Kostya Tszu)

I'll give him that two jab concussion.

Its not the college in Boston when I give you mass (U. Mass) destuction.

Let me catch him with the mother of his child. You gon see him stretched.

First I'll lock up king pen, then ya B.M. F’ed.

But run up on me, you'll receive the biggest reception.

Bullets'll change your facial features when you witness protection.

I'm the truth, bitch. I'll grab the A.K. and get his roof split.

I'm accurate with them sticks like Rain Man with the toothpicks.

My nines peel. Every one of my lines real;

the way we'll bust Jerome you'll think we on Heinz field.

This strap is like when a girl invites you to watch Netflix,

‘cause when I add extensions,

bullets coming over to Chill with bad intentions.

You've made rash decisions, and you on the ground with this shit.

This wack emcee got another 2 rounds of this shit. Yikes!

Round Two

Chilla Jones

So you told Danja, "being from the west and killing the east is what I encompass.”

And you call yourself a fuckin writer?

I mean that was a dope concept, but poor execution.

I would've thought of something tighter.

Like every round, I end(N) on top, and leave niggas right on E.

If you ever say I lost you’s a fuckin liar.

How could you rank me at the bottom, S-pecially when every battle I left with the W,

‘cause my schemes encompass fire?

Myers, this battle is your test. Let’s see if you can make it out.

If you pass, this could be 2015's greatest bout,

but if you fail, I’ll put a blade through your stomach, and take your navel out.

Get caught cheating, I'ma hold it against you like a faithful spouse,

then slice your shit. Then give you the replay pronto,

Killer Instinct with punches: I’m T.J. Combo.

Two cans, for you and your man, if he say dram, bro,

I’m clicking on y’all both like a three-way convo.

My squad gon get it in,

and you’a hear, more gunshots during this round than Jon Dough editing.

Steppin into your trapspot. Them glocks, we make it clap,

so guard all the buddha y'all weigh, or we takin that.

God, Allah, Buddha, Yahweh — that’s a divine scheme.

I had to make it clear for my pupil like Visine.

My team? It's a lot of us, don't bother us,

I’m trying to help this square get the picture like monitors,

so watch your men or a(menora) flame lighting like Hanukkah.

They lift your sole(soul) then shoo’ with the hammer like cobblers.

Watch how fast the room’a (rumor) spread like gossipers,

once shots sail on your shirt like Nautica.

Taking me was Gothika: a very wrong plan,

just a scary movie made to get buried(Berry) on cam,

damn. What you expected? Accept it, I'm spectacular,

You’ll get put in a coffin, Danny, the next Dracula.

Now bar for bar you think you the best battler,

the king author(Arthur)? ‘Cause you handled X caliber?

Or ‘cause it took your 3 best rounds to compete with Danja’s?

Well everything I’m speaking cold(code); that's a secret language.

My main bitch, she don't act like a lady.

Come at me sideways if you want. She'll be clappin that 80,

if his direct at me(hysterectomy), she ain’t having it, baby.

Now.. If y’all don’t know what a hysterectomy is, just wait it out,

the next two, I’ma explain what the wordplay's about.

You took me and Danja back to back. You the bravest scout.

Thought you was pussy. I ain't expect you to risk(uterus) being taken out.

Invade his house. From any angle I'm certain to kill shit.

Show you how to arc a tec: I'm the person to build with.

If it's beef and you the cause, B,(Cosby) I’m lurking to peel(pill) shit.

Mentally, I'm plain(plane) sick with a terminal illness;

This is realness. They say I lost to DNA. They had me wrong,

that was a bag, just over heads, but carry on.

Soon as I clap he gone, nigga the Bloque is riders.

Let you name a Top 5.... You ain’t a starter, Myers.

This is stardom, Myers. Y'all brought a star to Myers,

for his career to die in New York like Stoudamire’s?

I spark and fire, them cans get dumped, them hands could bump,

your back left with random lumps like camel humps;

Danny we could let it “bow” in the ring, but why handle guns?

When it’s Karate, kid, I’ll kick punches to get Daniel sonned.

You already know you on the ground with this shit.

This wack emcee got a whole nother round of this shit. Yikes.

Danny Myers

Your whole career, niggas complained about that boring shit.

Well I could give him nine to five, that'll make his whole morning shift.

Usually got the P89 with me, but if we get into a slug fest,

I’ma use the homie P like I'm trying to pass a drug test.

The iron'll squeeze.

You Mark Wahlberg: by the time you realize what's happening, you'll die in a breeze.

Bitch, I'll shoot your mama and your daddy. I’m creeping up where their home is.

Bullets gon out do em, they keeping up with the Joneses.

I gave your bitch my bottle of Henny; I bend these hoes.

She sucked me in the front seat of yo car; again she bold.

She swallowed Dan Brown, so when I made her moan,

a least a ho let me nut all over the Vin; she cold. (Da Vinci code)

It’s Mortal Kombat when they get me.

'Cause they never see the punches coming at ‘em like Kenshi.

But back to your bitch. That tramp is a Boston skeezer.

They said her head is past a ten, that's why I went off to meet her (off the meter).

Your mixtape? Wack as fuck! Not a single song I ain't feel once.

I'll raise a arm here (hair) if y'all like the songs that Chill bumps.

I'm too cold. I got a crazy maggie.

And five other small ones, but I really only fuck with two of ‘em like a baby daddy.

I'll run up and pop the chrome.

The first thing his man'll do is

pick him up and look at the face like when you drop your phone.

We’ll get guns you could hold in your hand, and some you carry over.

Then we'll surround this nigga spot like a areola.

You'll get buried soldier. Every day I'm carrying chrome.

My aura exudes to you a nefarious tone.

You get with bitches online, then you carry them home.

We ran track meets on the bitch who's marryin' (Marion) Jones.

You took my punches and mixed em with your schemes,

and you don't see nothing wrong about it.

I gave you power! I'll pull this gun and Nas'll write a song about it!

Banana clip hanging out of the K, you gon meet with shots.

You'll see this half moon in the middle of the day; that's a Equinox.

You think the beefing stops? I'll break your face in seconds.

Gun butt you til the stock destroyed. Your family be in a great depression.

Let me catch you with your homeboy. I real quick burst toolies.

You'll be sleeping with your man like Will Smith first movie.

I'm cold as Six Degrees; this the Separation before the tool peel.

Steel click (still clique) like when you break up with a bitch but y'all cool still.

Don't be a fool Chill, you coming at me with this rookie shit.

You seen how many niggas on cam I to'

from all the weak rhymes them pussies print.

Cam I to', camel toe, that's a reach, but that's the thing I'm slangin’.

But then again, when you reaching with the pussy that's finger bangin’.

You'll see my finger bangin', head shot; when they seen it, his men skirted.

The right stick have him thinking up is down like he inverted.

But yo! Guess who got shot in the dome piece?

Jerome's niece on her way home from Jones beach.

I'm Illmatic, and you on the ground with this shit;

this wack emcee got a whole nother round of this shit. Yikes!

Round Three

Chilla Jones

I paid JC 600 dollars. Made a classic. Shit’s straight perfect.

You paid Rex twelve racks. For one fire round and two mixtape verses,

I mean, twelve racks? I mean, I'll never call you a cheap bastard,

but we all know, all you want in this game is elite status,

But for twelve racks? You could’ve battled Daylyt, Big Kannon and B. Magic

and traded that one weak battle for three classics, but lemme ask this:

where the fuck, was your manager, when you thought about this stupid plan?

How the fuck was paying Rex twelve racks supposed to improve your brand?

Yeah, you'se a man, with ten kids, but this is where you lose as a father,

‘cause do you know what twelve racks could do for a son or do for a daughter?

That's groceries for a year. That money coulda kept food in the fridge.

That's four months rent, plus furniture. Something new for the crib.

That's Disneyland for the summer, somethin special for you and your kid.

That's emergency money, in case you end up doin a bid,

but you ain't put your fam first. You gave that money to Rex.

You never paid dues, you paid dudes for your fuckin respect.

I don’t take it as disrespect when niggas ask me where my style is at,

‘cause I’d rather spend that money making sure my child’s intact.

This is real shit. Could give a fuck if the crowd react,

but I'm the motherfuckin KingPen, Danny.

It’s time to show you why they crowned me that.

Today’s your burial. I’m the KingPen, your games imperial,

I'm fuckin sick. It ain’t venereal. You ain’t ready, bro.

Homie I ain’t horsin’ around, this ain’t a merry-go.

Give his Pops Smacks over checks(Chex), it ain’t a cereal.

Rounds coming out of these cans, they ain’t spaghetti o’s;

I flip and catch bodies in the ring like Rey Mysterio.

Think a stereo: I could set(cassette) it on Danny and make a tool pop.

I got a new ox(AUX), and see these(CD’s) weapons gonna make dude stop.

I’m the type to come to your funeral as the tomb drop,

and throw dynamite in your casket. Now it’s a boombox.

Let him park on the strip while I'm standing on the rooftop.

He get stretched, pulling up under these caps like tube socks.

I’m too hot. This is haymakers and quick jabs.

They said you’d never take a loss to me(colostomy);

now you getting your shit bagged.

I’ll have goons pull up dumping hammers with crip rags,

and just for my amusement, park, repping them Six flags.

So get mad. Scream, nigga. Run around the whole stage.

You’ll probably be the first battler to die of old age.

I outline everybody. Then they disappear with no trace.

When I bare(beer) cans and hit his six pack, that’s a cold case.

Twin four-fours, that belong together like soulmates,

I let ‘em point, and scream out the window like road rage.

Toast blaze. Hella chrome, clicking like a metronome,

can to his ear like kids playing telephone.

Newsflash: We ran through your wife, and we was getting dome.

We was training that tongue better than Rosetta Stone.

Your last battle? 2-1 classic, I gave the edge to Zone.

‘Cause with a nigga like Danja, you can't just squeeze past em, you need action.

You gotta put that K in front of Carter. If he reverse then retrack him,

then keep blackin, wait. Most of y'all ain't even peep that.

Put a K in front of Carter, then reverse it, it spells retrack.

But I’ma relax. I’m only here to slump my next victim.

Y’all really thought he could overcome my best writtens?

Think Fetty Wap, he bout to be the one I(eye) left missing.

‘cause living? You can’t here(hear) Danny, this a death(deaf) mission,

I'm a vet spittin. What you know about the game?

Jones rounds insane, make him scream his slogan out in pain.

Your death tonight and Bobbi Kristina’s both about the same,

‘cause this was suicide, and now your life is going down the drain.

The crown remains with the KingPen, and that's why you losing now,

against Mister Jump-to-Top-Tier-from-the-Proving-Grounds. Bosstown.

Danny Myers

This nigga’s a false prophet. I felt he was a villain with a hunch.

That's why I'm coming to Jones town to kill him with a punch.

After this, you ain't doing no more battles.

The silhouette of my gun should’ve been a fore(four)shadow.

Chilla’s a workin man; I'll run up in his damn office.

Blow off both his legs; I come across stand offish.

You dead here. You gone be a martyr to your daughter.

This cat suited to be a pussy like Cheetara.

I'll call you a hoe holding a sword. Your skin, I’ll get under that.

This lion'll (Lionel) leave you in a West Brook.

That's how you scheme with the Thundercat.

You fuckin’ wack. I'll kidnap you in Boston; I'm really with the schemes.

The silencer won't say a word; you'll really miss the Bean (Mister Bean).

My team real. Can't no fuckin' man scare us.

Gun out the guitar case if you flashing a band, dare us. (Banderas)

I'm from a damn era where rap words got a rival shot.

Big L was still spittin', and Big Pun had the goggles cocked.

Souls of Mischief was banging from every car ride,

and west coast lyricists was trying to make it to the far side. (Pharcyde)

But here we are, god. Top pen games, you'll get your body burned.

Niggas ain't seen a better writer since Tommy Hearns.

As far as I'm concerned, this fag I gots to snipe.

This bitch just doesn't get it like Magic Johnson wife.

The irony in that line’s crazy! They thought we was the same,

but I'm the only sick one, even though we're contracted to let blood exchange.

Fuck Boss Town, I'll ride through your city and provide hecklers.

You'll see 22 coming out the Blazer like Clyde Drexler.

I'll side step ya. Break you off with a couple of rights.

I talk to niggas, you better come at a Brother polite (Polight).

I'd never run from a fight. I gave it all I had;

if a nigga want to get me to (meter) running he better call a cab.

I'll put you in a Boston crab, then let the choppa spit.

I'll put a hole, inside of this hoe, that's the size of a whole lotta shit.

Drama shit. He want a war, now we want a war.

But if all my niggas came in Chevys, how could you think we on one accord?

Daylyt started the schemes and you stole it. You a damn smoker.

I write scripts for niggas who bite: I'm Bram Stoker.

I'll hand choke ya. I ain't the one you should call out, boy.

You'll get rocked with metal ’til you fall out, boy.

You think I give a fuck about that 12k? I hustle, nigga; I see paper.

Keanu Reeves hit my phone 'cause he heard I was the Key Maker.

But you come up with all these genius schemes to set fire to yo raps.

I had to open up them bricks, then set fire to the wraps.

This nigga Myers fittin to snap on this nerd geek, word freak,

nigga get on. Writers Bloque the only block you ever been on.

Listen Scrap, skip the raps on how your fifth'll clap.

These pussies only act animated 'cause I’m a risk to cats.(aristocats)

It’s a difference, black. This notepad is my home.

In this battle shit, I’m the baddest guy known.

I honed him in on the fifth floor. So if Jerome’s in the house,

we’ll catch him by his window, drag and fly (Dragonfly) Jones.

Little fag I fly chrome. And you on the ground with this shit;

thank the lord he don't got another round of this shit. Yikes!

Lyrics transcribed in full, including slurs and offensive rhetoric in interest of accuracy. Language used and views expressed are those of the rappers cited.

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