Murda Mook vs. Serius Jones lyrics

Round 1: Serius Jones
See I'ma tell yall a true story
As god as my witness see I was chilling in my crib
Minding my business
When I get a phone call private
I'm like who the f*ck is this
Now I ain't gonna say no names
He was like I called you 3 times you ain't call back
Anyway whats good with my n*gga murda mook
I'm like who the little big nose n*gga who be battling on smack
Well he wanna battle you on smack
I'm like why this n*gga still even battling his songs wack
This n*gga need to record a hot track, get a contract, get off my sack, and fall back
He like nah he wanna battle you cause you the only other n*gga good enough
Well you know what i asked him right?
How much guap this n*gga talking about putting up
Well he was like its on you
You know this is all true Smack you know what this fraud do
See we was supposed to battle on New Years but this b*tch ass n*gga canceled talking bout he caught the flu
Now when I see that I'm like this n*gga's a shame
See he can't even get in the game for a slave deal
For a whip and a chain
Cause only time he put ice on his wrist is when it gets sprained
And only time he get his di*k wet, is when he p*ss in the rain
See its a tragedy
You getting burned quicker than a calorie
Ain't that the same sh*t he played with Cassidy(Murda Mook: Cassidy see I knew he was gonna say that)
See you see me rhyming
Now you wanna crawl out your rathole and battle me
But see I'm stacking my grind heavy, I'm eating meals off these labels checks
This b*tch ass n*gga been on Smack 6 times already, and he still ain't got a deal on the table yet
See you ain't got Harlem with you
That's cause none of your bars official
You just over stunt and lie in every rap
See that's the problem with you
How you gonna talk about flipping cakes n*gga you softer than a muffin
Even your n*ggas know you fronting
Talking about coke
The last time this n*gga shaved an onion
He was in his kitchen on Thanksgiving making stuffing
See n*ggas ain't forced you to come clean
Cause they ain't have no dirt on you
But I know yous a schoolboy, you know how I know you're a schoolboy?
Cause I did my homework on you
Cause your government name is Jonathan Ancrum
You went to Fordham Prep Catholic
That's a private school
What you didn't think I was gonna find out
That's why we can't buy none of this gunplay that you're trying to shout
Cause you left the violence out your life, played sports, and went the college route
So where you get all these whips, clips, chips, that you rhyme about
Come on dog cut it out with these fictional tales
About digital scales
Cause deep down in his soul I know this n*gga is frail
See he lie cause he dont know how to be himself in his raps
So he fabricates punch lines about raps and flipping them packs
But see I speak from the heart that's why n*ggas feel this sh*t
n*gga I keep it real, you don't even keep it realistic
So tell the truth dog you ain't doing no crimes
Be you in your rhymes
See you a homo rapper
You probably suck di*k for studio time
Round 1: Murda Mook
All right miss jones, i dont wanna be your friend after this
So imma get this out real early, suck my di*k
Listen up
He dont wanna see me get the pump, so just rap, or you can end up gift-wrap in my n*gga trunk
Lame-f*ck, stupid n*gga
Ain't got a group of figures, remind me of a useless pitcher
Couldn't get his change-up
See i see whats going on here, you tryna get your fame up
You battled jin you won a ten you hopeing for the same luck
Well guess what your little plan is about to be messed up
You see these lens
I killed a lot of n*ggas in front of this sh*t you about to be next-up
This ain't that new movie, you ain't walking the "glory road"
Everybody wanna know so heres how the story go
Smack called me i was getting some head
They said you got a victim and it might involve you getting some bread
I said word i puched the b*tch off the bed
Whoever,whenver tell me who hes dead
He said you know money that battle jin up in the fight klub
Then i thought of you my face lit up like a light bulb
I ain't one of those cats you may have battled on stage
That had chest colds and viruses im full blown aids
Listen im like that time n*ggas said they could guard jordan
n*ggas say they could do it tell you in that position ans he make your ass look stupid
The streets had me real curious homes
But we all see your nowhere near serius jones
I smack you leave you delirous homes
Make you bleed like a b*tch with her period jones
Now n*ggas saying he's Zab and I'm mayweather
And weather i may win even though I'm way better
Well if that sh*t’s possible, and n*ggas saying he’s Zab , let’s resort to the pads, meet Kostya Tszyu
The word spread quicker about me battling this
But you winning, ripleys wounlt even believ that sh*t
Your peoples gassed you right like is he that sick
Im the end of the road if you beat me thats it
Wrong! even your own man knows
This wasn't a very smart move for your career mister jones
O and i feel bad about the management behind you
Cause after they see this they ain't ghonna want to sign you
And the n*ggas that behind you they ain't gunna laugh now
But watch this dvd look hard into the crowd
Your gunna see a lot of your n*ggas not looking very proud
And hes an ac, he dont rap
You a comedian duke
You make n*ggas laugh, cause well thats the sh*t comedians do
Im the sh*t look at my last battles for proof
My bars make n*ggas go whoo that littl en*gga theres the truth
I go from sicily to brooklyn, harlem to hong kong
Belgoium to the bronx from the bronx i be long gome
His man a b*tch someone trow him some pom poms
Ain't sh*t when i trow silver in your long johns
Eyo the streets keep buzzing, murda mook everywhere
This n*gga probably telling n*ggas he my cousin, easy