17-03-2015, 17:19
Раздел: Баттл KOTD



Charlie Clips vs Daylyt (Русские субтитры)


Чарли Клипс (настоящее имя: Чарльз Леон Браун III ) - американский боевой рэпер из Гарлема, Нью-Йорк . В настоящее время он имеет 57 сражений, которые составляют 49 441 981 просмотров.
Дейлит (настоящее имя: Давон Кэмпбелл ) - американский боевой рэппер из Уоттс, штат Калифорния . В настоящее время он зарегистрирован в количестве 71 бит, которые составляют 21 802 105 просмотров.

Смотреть баттл "Charlie Clips vs Daylyt":



Полностью переписанные тексты словесных головоломок Дайлита и схемы Чарли Клипса в «Битве LA 5» KOTD.

Текст баттла "Charlie Clips vs Daylyt":

[Round 1: Charlie Clips]
Now, I told niggas I would fry Day before the week is out
Never knew that little bar was really meanin' a lot
How ironic, I gotta kill a nigga from out of Queen of the Ring
To become that nigga at King of the Dot
I see you became best friends with Chilla
Well, you better dial Jones
Because you're about to get three from the stock
I thought it was California love
But I feel it's all eyes on me, so which one of you niggas wanna have a meetin' with Pac? Mmkay, mmkay…
I'm a vampire, I don't like daylight, I'd rather shoot dawg
Shotgun blowin' in a Crip nigga mouth
But it ain't Snoop Dogg
I run with some outlaws that'll roof dawg
They crazy, let they ratchet buck
An LBC crew that'll stomp him, now that's corrupt
Should I use a 9, automatic or maybe the blade?
Whatever I use'll push this bitch wig back
That's the Lady of Rage
I'll run up on him while he on stage, call your DJ bitch
Turn tables over, he try to run, I hope your DJ quick
‘Cause MC Hammer right to your left eye
I give him four rounds
I ain't even bring my own gun to Cali, I got my dog pound
Give him all rounds, the shot'll lift his skin
He'll be white by the time the doctor find him
Shout out to Eminem, mmkay mmkay…
You did a mmkay/Mortal Kombat scheme against Chilla
Now you got a bear in your sight
You gonna see death in a row, ‘cause the whole time I did "MK", it stood for Marion Knight—that's Suge
I'm in your hood, I start airin' the pipe
I hit these crip niggas
Make everyone in blue jet without preparin' a flight
Nigga, I'm nice. I flew all the way to Cali
Just to make sure you pass away
A bulimic model at breakfast time; you eatin' half the tre
I'll catch him while he pickin' his son up from school
You know what I'll do? I'll blast away
Split him in half, his son stayed in school
But still saw a half a day
Listen, I ain't your average battler, Davone
I'm a different terror
Got a fifty 9 and a 50, I'll blow your fitted into a different era
Got a long ratchet; that's Shooney, I get that bitch to air ya
If she miss you'll still get a funeral
From the small ratchet; that's her sister Farrah
Off the top, I'm too nice, like if you ain't got those stitches
Imagine this bitch tryin' weavin' a jab
Shout out to TDE, because today every shot gon' hit him
He's gonna have to leave in a cab
I'll throw a bullet like the nigga from the movie Wanted
So when I'm squeezin' the mag
The shit'll go through you, go through you, make Ab-Soul duck, hit you and make your soul leave through your abs

[Round 1: Daylyt]
What they gone be sayin' is "Clips lost today"
Fuck I gotta slow that down already?
What they gone be sayin' is "Clips lost to Day"
And that goes to all the mothafuckas at Unbias
Who never thought it’d happen
My attitude is welcome to the ghetto bitch with a attitude
Let’s start the snappin'
The crowd will holla Day early, due to my gift
Which is presence, let’s start the rappin'
A loss, one Day notice, let me pull a move out
A new box for you, like I started packin'
See what a man do? They know
Day flow the new Bayo, I started blackin'
I slowly poke my chest out with these lines
I’m the pacemaker; I’m hard attackin'
You been on a winnin' streak
But I’m the win-breaker; Starter jacket
I take money for a ride, I applied for the job of cab man
Wrong, I would log in on homes; that’s called a cabin
No, I’ma just go a little apes
And the flow fly; who called Aladdin?
Cut the Jazz, man, I need a boo who
Be on call with TECs; mobile phone
A couple rounds will make your house roll out; mobile home
Your bro is on?
We put one through his tee, too; total chrome
Get DNA X’d; chromosome
The cost is another kid from N.Y. who lost; leave Home Alone
I got one 2-2, I’m so in zone
It could get ugly, bitch, the game is stale
I go retarded on stage, my name Lil Darryl
The Smack list is the blackfish, who y’all savin’? Well
Nigga, we bust chrome; the heat done put more niggas to sleep than a Jigglypuff song
What the fuck’s wrong? I bust chrome
I do him in a greezy way
Two 4's leave six ate, who do we appreciate?
He think escape?
I got a Asian bitch that “make sure you hurry up and die”
Follow you wherever you go; “Hurry up and buy!”
My crew gotta watch ya, tool cock and pop ya
You want more? We lift up two rocket launchers
Leave your man slumped, NBA Jam pump
All you gon’ hear is “Boomshakalaka!”
I go double noodles like two pots of pastas
These 2Pac impostors ain’t 'bout that thug life, yeah
Why would he beef in this toy story? When I’m the one who got the buzz, this is Lyte's year, type queers
Nina won’t leave that ass alone; she like to flirt
Arms swing, teach you how to Dougie; you like to Jerk
One shot will air out his neck; you like to burp
You look wrong, I give your eye 90; you like the Chirp
That was a hard line, pro; I like the perk
These niggas will be gettin' killed; they life a skirt
One punch push his mouth to the side; he like to smirk
Little nigga get his whole body blew; you like the Smurfs
I spot a fake nigga from a mile away; you dyke berserk
One call, put his face in a box; use Skype to murk
You thought one button
Was gone save your ass from dyin'? Who Life Alert?
Big nigga answers your door, *ding dong*
“Who is it?”—true life of Lurch
Here, take a couple of them messy-cans; who like the work?
Long strap give you a bag; you like the purse
Get his ass popped on cam; you like to twerk
Get planted with a big round; you like the Earth
I told these niggas I’m so gritty
I had to kill him for my whole city
Another N.Y. legend who died in Cali—it’s no biggie
And I don’t give a fuck about you
We are not friends, my nigga
2Pac was originally from the East Coast
So that mean we killed two N.Y. niggas

[Round 2: Charlie Clips]
I watched one of your battles the other day
And I was thinking to myself like, “Where the game went?”
It’s about 3,694 battle rappers today
And they all spittin' the same shit
What happened to you, Day?
I see you doin' a bunch of lame shit
You used to have them fuckin' bars
Now every time I turn around
You tryna win a battle strictly off name flips
Like, what it is, Day?
If I reach to give you a five I ain’t your friend, Day
11:59, but that’s P.M. I’m 'bout to end Day
Got a Ocho and a Nueve, blakka—no comprende?
No matter what time of the week it is
I don’t lose, I wins, Day
I called Ill Will’s Jamaican connect
Like “Yo, you know my son Day?”
He said “Rass Clot from L.A.? Yea, I know the mon Day”
He said send his head one way
Shot hit him, push him that-a-way
I had to fry Day the day after Friday, it won’t be a sadder day
But let’s put that away, I ain’t tryna kill you with name flips
But I bet he does a bunch of cartoon bars
Or some video game flips
What happened to all the
“You’ll get Capped in America” stuff? That was flame shit
Now every time I turn around
You always doing some lame shit
It’s always Goku this or Gohan that when you spit it, bro
Okay, you love draggin’ balls, I get it, bro
My side bitch called me
Like, “Could you imagine boo if you hit it slow?”
But I got a girl so I pay her
A lot of green to keep my pickle low
She bad, Summer Madness crowd wouldn’t boo ma
Her name’s Chanel, she a diva
I hit it once, I went ape, now she could tell, I’m a leader
*Kahhh-mmee* Nigga please
You’ll get a shell from the heater; for you to survive
The Dots will have to put your cell in a freezer
Speakin' of sell, we in L.A
A lot of platinum albums were sold here
You nice, but with all them super sayings
The most you can do is go gold here
I let that four flare, point the deuce
Throw the beam in your mouth
I do the fusion dance with Chilla, then scheme in your house
I battle 10 times a year, my nigga
And I’m never seen in a drought, watch your mouth
You better weave or get this beam to your scalp
Run your lips, I gun your shit, throw this beam in your mouth
Christina Milian; when I get mad
You’ll find his dreams on the couch
I told y’all it’d be a total slaughter
When the gun bustin' and shit
I'll let this arsenal spit in your face for 90 seconds
But Joe Buddens ain’t judgin' this shit
Talk about you’ll give me the
"Open hand, fist and the deuce," and y’all believe him
I’ll have the one pointin'
Before he get to the deuce; that’s odds and even
Boy, I’m nice. You win some, you lose some; you lost this one

[Round 2: Daylyt]
In the hood they charge 1K for one K
And to keep it a buck X 10
That’s why everybody remainin' a G
They eyeless pilot fly, precision division is plain as can be
Them niggas take flight on sight
I said I am the old Jedi
Yo, the crowd notice everything it'll slash
I slice bricks, with a bright line to fight with
Lyt saber anything in his path
The staff feel like, "Oh, b won?"—this so you can know, b
It take you outta that ring like you divorced
And I trained a little, trolley form, Johnny Storm
It’ll be just another Human Torch
When I put that flame on niggas
One thing we got in common is we can rock, man
But I rest killers. You say they missed a fantastic line?
That’s ‘cause it was a stretch, nigga
I’m the best, nigga, they put you in a trap
Meanin' beatin', I got the sound to the South
I’m nice, he knew, it’s a igloo; I got a cold round for the house
But chill, I will find happiness, my pursuit is goin' fine
Crew is gonna shine, we shoot at his feet
Dance, Clips! Do it for the Vine!
I shine through that hard knock life
But it ain’t no anti-skippin'
And he Crippin’, look at the can he grippin'
The long whistle will put a end to your show; Andy Griffith
Pump Yosemite, Amityville Horror
Granny will feel sorrow, when the rides come
I tell her, "Don’t cry, sis, this is just a standard crisis."
He gon' figure out who Christ is
When I send you to God’s son—and that’s on my Godson
Soon as I got the infrared like I got son
My mode turned off
‘Cause at first I was in for Red, but I got son
So my old mission was cancelled
But I still lift that infrared, send you to God, son
Mode: I am ahead by a big amount
I’m in Fred the God Son mode
My girl with the business too, she aims
When she get in her killin' zone, see brains
With the chrome, she William Hung; she bangs

[Round 3: Charlie Clips]
How long it took to prepare for Day? A day
Nah, it was more like a week and a half
Worked on my rhymes on Monday
Was finished by Friday, then the whole weekend I crashed
Woke up another day, watched his battles
Then the whole weekend I laughed
‘Cause I realized he don’t deserve a bar
You’re not really a star, all of your antics are
So why not speak to your mask?
What I look like puttin' you on my fuckin' face?
I didn’t fly out to Cali to look like no damn fool
When I put you on my face it’s to hurt somethin' for real
I’m not tryna battle rap and get no damn views
When niggas put you on they face it mean murder
I remember seein' your face every night on the damn news
I even remember you on Bishop face
When he robbed Old Man Quiles with his man Q
But now you just jumpin' on any nigga face, mask
And honestly, I can’t take it
How you go from Schoolboy Q and Young Buck album
To a battle rapper that’s gettin' naked?
You belong on the faces of niggas
That’s doing all the killin', all the robbin' and torture
Instead you on the face of a nigga
That’s killin' battle rap and robbin' the culture
You gotta stop this shit, face mask
When I murder niggas, I leave ‘em with no trace
You want your niggas to look they killa in the eye
I rather you look your killa in his whole face
So you could remember the nigga from the East Coast
That stripped you of your pride and your glory
Real niggas don’t need a face mask
I don’t plan for you to live to tell your side of the story
To the Batmobile—nigga, shut the fuck up!
You and that silly slogan
You and Roc both Dot Mob, but his buzz is really growin'
See Roc the Dot that’s on top of this dot
I mean it’s really showin'
‘Cause he the Dot at the bottom
That’s always gettin' curved; that’s a semi-colon
You really thought you’d be ahead of Mook
My nigga? C’mon, Day, stop!
Your name will forever be behind Mookie; you Blaylock
That tre pop, his moms won’t even
Recognize him when his face drop
In order for the cops to know if that’s Lyt
They had to call in Tay Roc
Nigga, that’s bars, plus schemes, plus delivery
Nigga, that was a true finish
They paid money to hear classics
They don’t wanna see your new gimmick
Your name is Daylyt, but your skin is midnight
You need a new image
Now you better thank Lush and God
That these rounds was only two minutes

[Round 3: Daylyt]
I remember that time on URL that I never spent
I got paid to do a battle that never happened
And I kept every cent
You smell me? Tell b I kept scorchin’ to that Whoville
Horton, a God to that URL event
Who say they the world and all I keep hearin' is
These little voices tellin' me
You can’t copy respect, it’s trust
Same people who feel like they world is everything
But all I see is a speck of dust
Irrelevant niggas want a piece of me, I tell ‘em it’s no slice
They hunger, isn’t never to slumber
I do my numbers on a square; the element’s so dice
But I gives no fucks; I’m celibate
And I’m buggin' off the top; where I’m headed is fro lice
The flow elegant, straight kitchen, when Day spittin'
Consider it great stitchin'; I tell them I’m so nice
But I’m 'bout to go in, bree, yo, another lil fella with no life
You better abort, shun, ‘fore you see what the lead did
Quill, I stillbirth the new style
So the feat is guaranteed, you’ll be dead, kid
It was over before you came out, lil fella; miscarriage
That’s a toddler, tragedy, Dizaster said I’m a bastard
‘Cause I don’t give a fuck about son
And I’m your father, apparently
But what I inherited is a slug, man, and a gun to pound with
What you gon inherit is Harriet Tubman
You goin' underground, bitch!
And that’s for railroads, I had to give him the clip
What I gotta put that it in “Grindin” or somethin'?
I said that Pharell road, I had to give him the Clipse
They said my antics killin' this shit
Well, check my momentum, I need all viewers
I took the West from inches to a foot every yard; we all rulers
That last battle I had with ICE, chess; we are cooler
Y’all bout to see b rest while I’m eatin'; we are Hooters
I been searchin' for this little boy all night; we are cougars
You sleep on me, you get killed in your dream; we are Kruger
Fine, get smoked with the lines; we are hookahs
Clips is a clear joke; these are bloopers
I go fire on that last level; we are Koopa
Everybody in that van draws; we are Luther
Standin' there with the gauge
Soon as you arrive; we are Loopers
That power range rip off shit; V.R. Troopers
First of all, don’t hype his pride
To kill you I was searchin' for the right disguise
So fuck this mask, I want you to look your killer in the eyes
SIKE! I LIED!
I told you, nigga, this is Day's city
I don’t know what the fuck y’all thought in they city
Dog get aired with a round to the mouth; play frisbee
He said I’m on my bipolar shit
I tell him I’m on my straight grizzly, this is a tragic spoof
When I shoot dog, I’ll mute dog, you won’t have a roof
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