Correction Lyrics Qleen Paper vs. Jai 400 by Rare Breed Entertainment

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Lyrics

Qleen Paper vers' Jai
And it's safe to say you like to no-show when you ain't prepared for sh*t
All that "you sick and you be in the hospital" you can spare us wit'
Hope you came prepared for this
This not the time to play it safe
I mean, we all know money ain't no good, so I guess I'm here to set Paper straight, face-to-face
But let me talk to the other no-show
Yo, homo, when you battled Loso, your life had to be in the worst space
I mean, sh*t you said gave my mouth the worst taste
Then you started disrespectin' God
I should spit in that j*rk face
Even if it ain't in the Biblical sense, he wouldn't have been here if Adam ain't pick that fruit in the first place!
So watch how you speak to Jai
Know the lead'll (letter) be next to Jai (J): that mean you'll see a K
You prey (pray), Lord, meanin' I'll pop off (Popoff) the Peter way
Oh, you supposed to have the Juice 'cause you came strapped to RBE to play?
Until I take Qleen (clean) gun like, "I heard you copped a piece from Sweets today!"
I came here to body sh*t!
Stretch him out: pilates sh*t
Talkin' no-shows, that's only statin' the obvious
You back on SMACK, baskin' in the ambiance
Now you here today, I gotta stop ya sh*t
Choppa lift, got a soccer kick
Lord gon' need a Savior, Qleen gon' meet his maker
When they ask why, I'll reply, "Cleanliness next to Godliness"
400!
We get busy wit' the strizzy, know we dumpin' clips
Kill you and who you comin' wit'
You don't lknow who you f**kin' wit'
If I miss, the meaner (misdemeanor) the aim get when I'm bustin' sh*t
His homie who he fell on (felon)
Shootin' 'til the shells gone
'Til I clean Qleen whole background like I'm expungin' sh*t
But oh...you got one tre on you?
Oh, you rock it (Rocket) for fun, you just play hard in (Harden) - pause
I’m Chris Paul: I keep a tre on me just to play off him
I’m supposed to believe your piece is hittin’?
n***a, you stay fraudin’
I mean, I spray often
Squattin’ low wit’ the arm extended similar to Colin Sexton when he faceguardin’
That young boul (Bull) a straight problem
Don’t deal wit’ the monkey business, let my apes solve him
But you took yo’ name and switched it, Qleen
I could dig it, Qleen
All that actin’ out in your battles, but you never say nothin’ like Mr. Bean
Go ‘head, make a scene
I counter tops (countertops), grab the mop
Just know I’m tryna show y’all how to keep the Kitchen clean (Qleen)
But that lil’ run that you had? Know I’m knockin’ it down
You ain’t really wit’ the sh*ts, you ain’t poppin’ the pound
Give him a right (write) quick, sorta like I’m jottin’ it down
Don’t act out or the strap out, get capped out
Next time y’all see him back out, will be in a hospital gown
But the fans wanna know, when you used to no-show, was you on dope, coke, or crack?
Mollies, percs, or flats?
I mean, it don’t matter, you ‘bout to get drugged
You only here ‘cause you thought you would get back close to SMACK
But when ARP called me, I showed up pronto
On point guard wit’ the Rondo
I mean, you Black Ice Cartel, that’s who you ride fo’
‘Til I get Black iced and he really become a John Doe (Jon Dough)
f**k your war stories! You ain’t got none
Talkin’ guns like you shot some
We know bullets kill people, but you could die from a hot one
Give a f**k if the cops come
The scene gon’ look like me and Suge leavin’ this battle
All you gon’ is Jai body some sh*t, then walk off wit’ a Shotgun
So I’m supposed to believe you gangsta? It’s hard, bro
You soft, though
Strap hangin’ off the waist like the belt that come wit’ cargos
When the BaldHead pops, it get the job done like Lonzo’s
So Bishop on the roof the only time we seen Q let a arm go!
See, my word is my bond, and I move off that
You’ll lose when? If I draw ‘cause I shoot off straps
Talkin’ ‘bout your no-shows? Yeah, I came to do all that
This n***a only wanted one round - only question is “How you gon’ act?”
f**k you talkin’ ‘bout?

I said, dawg, listen, dawg…
Bro...shut yo’ Michael Jordan-Shaquille O’Barkley-head ass up, dawg
Nobody wanna hear that sh*t
They wanna hear a real n***a spit
Jimz, you should feel disrespected, but we gon’ get into that
As far as you, only decided on comin’ ‘cause I owe ARP some money and I wasn’t sendin’ it back
But I said, “f**k it, dawg...while I’m here, let me get into raps!”
Young wild n***a, fresh out Detroit
b*t*h, you better know what the f**k it is, my n***a!
You’ll get stretched out Detroit
You comin’ at me kinda stressed and tense
I got a lil’ ratchet b*t*h that’ll stretch out your joints
I’mma start out on the right foot like I’m fresh out the joint!
But I seen’t your battle with Showoff
Where my n***a Showoff at?
I seen’t your battle with Showoff...that sh*t was aight
Y’all n***as fought, though
But when you came on talkin’ all that tough-ass sh*t, that’s- that’s when you had me lost, bro
I don’t give a f**k if they say you won wit’ all that fake-ass sh*t
Faggot or not, n***a, I don’t think you lost, Show
Just off the fact that I know this n***a
He’s the type of n***a to play that boss role
Give a n***a a ounce of the drop, then set you up wit’ the cops, ‘cause he not gon’ let you off, so
If Jai lend Os (Jay Leno), then you know he’ll talk, Show!
But f**k it - what’s the deal?
Like, talk to me, what’s- what’s really real, 400?
‘Cause when you battled Showoff, before you even spat a f**kin’ verse, yo’ head was sweatin’ for real, 400
And leave all that tough sh*t in Newark, ‘cause you already know the drill, 400
And yo’ name ain’t Jai no mo’...b*t*h, it’s Uncle Phil 400!
During my time on this stage, already knew that I wasn’t gon’ have to tell him to gimme my space and move on back
I don’t give a f**k if he rap about a pistol
What’s the point? The n***a ain’t gon’ use no strap
And whenever you do decide to cover up that NBA Championship trophy-ass head of yours, I got somethin’ that’ll remove yo’ cap!
But he don’t want smoke - he’s a b*t*h! Jai Smoove on that!
My n***a, you should hang yo’ self, put a noose over yo’ head
I catch him in his backyard wit’ the shotty - (*chk-chk*) - spot him
BLAH! He gettin’ blew over the shed
n***a, syrup sandwich: that mean it’s some triflin’ sh*t that we’ll do over the bread
(Say it again! Say it again! Say it again!)
Syrup sandwich: n***a, it’s some triflin’ sh*t that we’ll do over the bread
This Bulldog housin’ sh*t: I’ll put a roof over his head
n***a- I told my n***a ARP I can’t even do the whole three
‘Cause after this, I gotta go wit’ my dippin’, dabblin’ ass
I gotta jump right on the plane, go and get and grab the bag
See, I’m in the pursuit of money
You in The Pursuit of Happyness wit’ yo’ Crippin’ faggot ass
Oh, you think you Karate Kid?
Well, I’mma grab the chopstick and have a blast
Ain’t no After Earth when me and my n***as get to grabbin’ mags
n***a, my n***as shoot at Will, so soon as I see Jai, then (Jaden) I’mma Smith his faggot ass!
And free my n***as!
I got my iCloud again, so I’m finna get my lil’ JPay back together
See, I hate n***as like this
They just get up here on this stage and get paid to rap whatever
But f**kin’ wit’ me, another n***a who spray lead
Y’all will have to watch these n***as stitch Jai head back together
Yup...and b*t*h, why when you sweat, yo’ head look like patent leather?
But wait - stop, ‘cause this not for him
Where that one n***a who keep gettin’ spit, punched, and kicked on and sh*t?
Y’all know who I’m talkin’ ‘bout - the n***a that swear this spot for him
Well, peep this - this the message I got for him:
f**k battle rap - b*t*h, you need a boxing gym
Or you should take up wrestling ‘cause that sh*t look like Elektra how we keep seein’ old n***as dropping Jimz (gems)
I mean, at least the n***a had the strength to get up after he knocked yo’ ass out, dawg
But why you had to get up nervous?
I woulda got up tryna figure out which n***a I’m finna put my hands up first wit’
Even if I got up swervin’
That sh*t was like a Quantum Physics scheme: n***a, the punch was set up perfect
But...back to this n***a, dawg, where all them bricks that you be mumblin’ about?
‘Cause on my daughter’s soul, n***a, I got n***as that’ll run in yo’ trap, n***a, and have n***as comin’ up out
Period, n***a
I’ll pull up wit’ this 100 and drop 100 in yo’ house
When the feds come, n***a, it’s gon’ look like somethin’ hunted was in yo’ house
But...f**k it, I say it’s f**ked up, I gotta f**k up how this Vaseline-head-ass n***a gettin’ his ends meet
But this where him and his end meet
So pound-trending topic that, before you send Tweet
And tell these f**k n***as i’m back heated like a Benz seat
I’m glad you rapped good

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