Full lyrics to Don't Flop's 7BW headliner between two of the most respected pen games from the U.S. and the U.K.

Watch the battle here.

Round One

Chilla Jones

Your fans say you the best ever, 'cause you dangerous with different stuff.

Your charisma is unmatched; you make the crowd wanna listen up.

You got killer angles, deadly freestyles, and your writtens tough;

that's partly why fans gave you the wins over Clips & Lux,

but I don't give a fuck. Tell me, why is he so elite?

Wait a minute. I thought this was Hollow. Y'all got me battling Tony D?

A nigga with a whole first name, but his last name is only D?

Well, I don't give a fuck, y'all getting the same Jones from me.

Eurgh, why you amp him up? I'm back, with the cannon tucked,

It's Loaded, spitting Hollow rounds like the Black Panther Lux.

Remember this?

"As far as bars, he's a poor man version of Chilla Jones' stuff.”

Well, I'm glad Shotty caught on.

It was clear from your very first battle in this artform.

Truth: that's word to the pad you copied bars on;

you been biting heads right off the bat like Ozzy Osbourne.

Tell your posse, get they mob on? Shit, it's whatever.

You ain’t a G. You soft as a Dutch sweater, with plush texture.

Just estrogen. Why your thug’s extra with tough gestures?

If it's hype(-)’r(-)tension, I'll squeeze arms and have a Blood press(-)ya.

Surgeons pulling fragments out your chest where the slug entered,

now everything coming from the heart like a love letter.

Whoever praise ya better save ya, ‘cause you ain't got a trey to blam.

Think graffiti: Tony gon get it shaking before he spray the can,

or turn bitch. That’s how you switch agenda(gender) without changing plans.

Son gon see pops in the ring like Shane McMahon.

I’ll shank your man. Watch where you aim the cam.

If his blood dry on the lens, they'll see Burgundy on the screen like Anchorman.



Photo by @ThatYoutJoel for Don't Flop. I know where they rank you fam. This is where your name shines;

They love you here. I don't expect cheers when it's game time,

But when they go back to their flats, and get to rewind these same lines,

Oh the irony, how you'll win at home, but, lose at home at the same time.

My frame of mind: why pick me, Tony? That choice senseless;

with 5 9s I'm Royce reckless;

I'll pistol whip everyone in your click til your boys neckless,

let it ring, then I’m coming after Tone like a voice message.

This a deathwish, My Killer Instinct is so savage, bruh.

Lyrically, I'm a Street Fighter; I scold battlers.

A Mortal (K)ombating this pen? He's no challenger.

I'm way brighter. I need a writer of Soul (C)alib(u)r,

so next year, let’s set it up. Let's get him set up for the upset.

I'll make a deal wit you: an extra buck fifty, I’ll get him cut next(cks).

I got a blade you can't stomach, money: that's a gut-check.

Sketch artist: that lead drawing ‘ll make him look suspect.

I must flex. I got a name in the States, Tony; I could ignore you.

Shotty and Soul got a name in the states, too;

look at all the work they put in for you.

After your choke vers’ Real Deal, Don't Flop is the only league booking for you.

I dont get it. Ain’t being wanted ‘posed ta(poster) have everybody looking for you?

I'm putting a whoopin on you, 'cause you battled dudes who sound like me,

but you ain't never stood in front of three rounds like these.

Bosstown.

Tony D

This weekend, they assembled the greats,

so props to the staff, 'cause fans been looking at this schedule amazed.

The calibre of battle rapper that have stepped in this place,

I’m talkin legends. And we get to face some American brays.

You man are no longer setting the pace.

You've been sleeping, and whats that taught us(tortoise), if anything, mate?

Not to split hair(hare)s, but you’re no longer ahead in the race,

and Chilla, I confess it's a shame.

Your material? Denim, on a fat bitch, it stretches at strains,

and I guess in the States, that shit connect and it’s flames,

but that’s ‘cause they backwards thinking, like a trip down memory lane.

This crowd a bit more intelligent mate,

'cause This Is England. And now the script read I skin heads

like Shane Meadows setting the stage.

King pen, this the end of your reign,

'cause off top, I’m too(two) on point with the tell(tail). Ain't that a devilish trait?

For the Hell of it, straight rob you for whatever he paid,

like, “Hands up. Now back down." Look like you trying to start a Mexican wave.

How you stepped in my face when I’m at the peak of my powers?

The plan is to rain down and rock your world: that’s a meteor shower.

Mr. Jump-to-top-tier-from-the-Proving-Ground. That's old news.

‘Cause I’m Mr. If-I-spit-three-rounds-I-don’t-lose.

You tweeted you was coming here to smoke Tone’s Boots,

but no you ain’t. And that loose Tongue will get its owner Laced;

you'll need your soul(Sole) replaced, 'cause he'll get worn out, like old shoes.

You're having second thoughts now; I know you.

Wishing he never answered the call like Colin Farrell in phone booth.

On this card he act(cardiac) like trouble, that’s a code blue.

I'll split your dome into sections for entertainment like the O2.



Photo by iDJPhotography for Don't Flop. This cold proof you ain't Tone’s rapping equal.

No antics, no gimmicks. I’m plain old fashioned lethal.

Online, they over hype you, claim you toe tagging people,

but don’t force belief in false readings,

'cause they gas you more than they should like a Volkswagen diesel.

This is evil. What I’m performing is torture,

punches have you stumbling as he walks to his corner,

it’s hard labor, he’s left leaning, like a Corbyn supporter.

I’m sick. I’ve got a rhyming-when-I’m-talking disorder,

and i still can't swim. No, check the Deffinition, I’m still walking on water.

Wavy. I don’t sound like C(sea).

I only took this battle to steal your soundbite clean,

'cause you ain't never stood in front of three rounds like these.

Round Two

Chilla Jones

This round, you getting fire out the gate, like hell’s entrance,

with conviction behind these bars minus the jail sentence.

Your chick, say you're a boy, and I'm a man, and that's the real difference.

You can't measure up; that's why I rule her(ruler) like twelve inches,

but, let’s use the metric system. Guess I gotta switch the plan,

Soon as I get sent to meet her(centimeter), she on her knees, unzipping pants.

You the head of the house. Well I'll kill a leader(kiloliter) when I'm clicking cans,

and if your, mums mum’s there wit’cha, I'ma hit’cha grams.

Listen fam. You tweeted he was capable of writing with Jones.

I seen ya sit us in(senior citizen) the same tier, that ain't a lie to condone.

Now I'm tight in a zone. I brought an L to leave(elderly) this old man,

‘cause he ain't know what retire meant, holmes.

But let him tell it, he aint retire. It was his career on a breather.

I came here with some ether. You prepared for a schemer.

Freddy Krueger vers’ Meek Mill: a nightmare to a Dreamer.

Grip the knife. Come get a slice like we sharing a pizza.

Ventilation how I’m airing the heater.

Or think a cabbie on a slow day, Bro: it’s no fair(fare) with the meter.

Either you should've brought your best to me, or backed out, scrap,

‘cause Eurgh done put you vers’ a steamroller. Now let's see if you can flat-out rap.

You outmatched. Y’all think he super smooth 'cause he grins a lot.

My troopers move, gripping glocks to shoot at you, them twins ‘a pop;

They sends a shot. If you came with a crew of dudes, your friends'll drop.

You survive? They switch the plot, say "Rubix cube" and spins the block.

You niggas thought 'cause of a few good battles your pens are hot?

Debatables, those are ties. We can't tell if they wins or not(windsor knot).



Photo by @iDJPhotography for Don't Flop. Defend your spot, 'cause Americans kill you when you begin to fight us,

You be on track, and then we stop your run.

Maybe that's why they tend to knight us(tendinitis).

You the king of writers?

If that's your goal, then(golden) touch the stage vers’ the one they think is Midas.

Y’all feeling(Filling) he got the Crown til the K(Decay) in his mouth like gingivitis,

but you supposed to be a pain in my side? Let’s let a pen decide this(appendicitis);

we both sick, but this a different virus. I spit the nicest, ripping cyphers,

I chews ‘em up, and spits 'em out. You chews(choose) nothing like you indecisive.

But y'all claim this nigga righteous, so Tony act pompous,

til he slip and inspect a(Spectre) clip like the Bond flick.

Rock him once, all fists. Knock him unconscious,

everybody turn and yell “Oh!”(turning yellow) like jaundice.

Y'all pick. How y'all want his ass to say goodnight?

Either shots sail(-)or see if he can navigate a right.

He tried to phone for help. In that case, he had to pay the price.

Whoever he call ‘a see him(coliseum) covered in blood like a gladiator fight.

Good night, ‘cause you battled dudes who sound like me,

but you ain't never stood in front of 3 rounds like these.

Bosstown.

Tony D

I've come to expose your style, make these people wake up,

'cause you work hard to force lines, like the barber that gave DNA his shape up.

This what chilla bring to a written:

“You need a genie to defeat me and fix you winning,

I’ll throw money in a hole, well, you into wishing.

I don’t feel you, and I trust my intuition.

You're gettin schooled for a fee, you in tuition.”

Then it goes way fuckin left:

“Scratch that, I’ll make your dogs flee(flea) like they’re into itching.

Point at hat, big stick make you fly, like you into witching.

We're going Hertfordshire. After the win, to Hitchin.”

It’s that, or shitty word association got him feeling himself.

So Chilla got some nonsense schemes in store like Keenan and Kel,

and some reaches as well, but that shit easy as hell,

if you ain't even going to bother to speak how its spelt.

You're pulling wool over eyes thats what your whole career is.

I sparked a Benson, started reflecting, and it hit me: you're all smoke and mirrors.

They don’t see the deceit in the lies you bring,

but the same people claiming your rhymes will win,

same people claim Fetty Wap’s the hypest thing,

'cause In the land of the blind, the one-eyed is the king.

That shit’s a crutch, it is such simple stuff you're thinking up,

makes dumb people feel really smart, but it makes smart people feel really dumb.

If you disregard spelling in real life the way you disregard it in a battle,

you'd be shit on Countdown, Ouija boards ’d be hard for you to handle,

and you'd start a bit of hassle and cause arguments at Scrabble.

For instance peeps, listen please, and you tell me, is this a reach.

You know Pocahontas? Ratatouille?

Well, he pronounced that using different speech.

He said "poker honest" and "rat the toolie”, just to fit a Disney scheme.

“Rat the toolie,” I swear, I sat there in disbelief,

like "did he really j-“ And then the crowd cheered, and I kicked the screen.

That shit is weak. We calling it a waste man method.

Chilla reach with that Jordan in SpaceJam tekkers.

You reckless, the way you take it further.

In the spirit of Johnny Cochran, no, J(O.J.), they let you get away with murder.

What I’m fearing is the battlers and fans with less experience

are really starting to take that reach shit serious,

'cause Dot follow your sentences, full stop, period.

But they’re scheming awful bars and reaching awful hard,

but I figured Black Thought will expose The Roots 'cause that’s when Things Fall Apart.

‘Cause you don’t stand up to scrutiny. You probe and find

that what you kick is air, like Bigg K reacting to an opponent’s rhyme.

I won't deny it’s funny to me that you’ve got an overbite

when your performance sucks 'cause its got no teeth like Obie Trice.

They know I’m nice, so me catching this body come as no surprise.

They fucked with me since Double P was part of Tony’s life.

I came out the hood spitting poison: that’s a cobra strike.

Now i hold my own, no fucks given: that’s a lonely night.

And you can't see me and I’m fucking up this room: that’s a poltergeist.

It’s over, time.

Round Three

Chilla Jones

I heard you paid a London chap to scrape up dirt for you,

a VIP ticket in exchange for some made-up personals.

But them lies wont hold weight, they'll make it straight up worse for you,

and I designed every line in this round perfect for hurting you.

I heard a few things and I was taken aback from that,

so this round I’m breaking you down, no punching back to back.

Now we criticized T-Rex for being a nurse that be packin straps,

well newsflash. Turns out T-Rex isn't the only nurse in battle rap.

As Tony D, you be putting on for London, making the city happy.

As a nurse, you was putting on.. scrubs, and changing shitty nappies.

As Tony D, you was the champ, and nobody could get rid of ya.

As a nurse, you was amped.. to take old ladies to the cinema.

Give it a rest, bruv. You the softest Tony ever. You think a G bluffing?

Tony Scarface was a thug and drug dealer that kept keys running,

Tony Soprano was a mob boss that had everyone in the streets duckin,

but Tony D, a 36 year old black nurse outta East London.

You fucking snake. Now let me expose how you double crossed.

Flex hit you for you versus Raptor. He even put Gemini on the undercard.

He told Flex, Eurgh wanted the same battle on a summer card,

but he would do it on Flex’s platform 'cause he ain't fuck with y'all.

Am I lying? Look at the reaction on this nerd’s face.

You even accepting that battle proved you're a rapper with the worst traits.

You view this as a white league. You wanted to feel blacker in the worst way,

You shoulda known it would be a Dizaster in the first place,

'cause that’s a spit in Eurgh’s face.

And in the States, you'd be an average, colo(u)red battler. That's all, that's it.

You got a little humo(u)r, some flavo(u)r, but I don't think you all that sick.

Plus the rumo(u)r is you still owe Flex a little money,

and that's who you’re trying to avoid contact with.

There's no hono(u)r in that behavio(u)r.

He paid you for labo(u)r. You decided to fall back quick.

Now this is an angle and a scheme. You probably won’t get it on the first listen,

but I said colo(u)r, humo(u)r, labo(u)r…

Anyway, in the U.S., we spell certain words different. The point is this:

Against Brits, that’s the battles that gave you clout.

But think about those words, Tony. All it takes is an American to take you(U) out.

What made you doubt I would win? This a L he’s getting.

I see death in your future; I can’t help these visions.

Long rod ‘ll make sure it’s his self he’s sticking(selfie stick);

you get the picture? My shit is sicker, and that's why you losing now,

against Mr. Jump-to-top-tier-from-the-Proving-Grounds,

Bosstown.

Tony D

So you’re from Bosstown. I was gonna do a Boston rapper scheme, Bro.

Then I realized, there’s Guru, Solar’s ex-boyfriend..

and the guy that was in Gangstarr with Premo. And Benzino.

You can tell how I step that I’m on classics.

It’s an explosive level in the building like bomb damage.

The diss pen’s fire, ‘cause this pen fire, it dispense fire,

cue(Q) flames like a Bond gadget.

I’m cookin and these bars will char-grill your arse, Chill.

It’s a flipping body, hands down, it’s all in the air like a cartwheel.

I just finished washing the blood off from my last kill,

now I brought the big guns out about to rock it for money like an arms deal.

There's skulduggery a(-)foot if I’m on my job.

They put the king vers’ I.

Well to get a(-)head, that’s your neck on the chopping block.

Theres no bones to pick with Tony’s shit. This simple precision.

You try muscling on god’s turf, well, thats a sin you(sinew) committing,

and I’m too blessed. That’s why he don’t know what to do next,

'cause his brain can't stomach the idea I ain't food yet.

We rematch, I’ll be the last man standing over two legs.

So he losing hard, and thats just bar for bar. That’s barring performance.

Chill(-)a body on ice. You’d swear I come to harvest some organs.

Now if you got that, and you caught the unifying theme in it properly,

It was like, blood.. You know what, fuck it, watch it back.

That’s how you scheme on a body.

Now if i seem to be cocky, it’s 'cause I’m properly focused.

You're getting polished off, dusted down,

swept up, I’m cleaning house, just show I can keep up with the Joneses.

Im mercenary molded. I use foresight(Forsythe) in the planning stage.

This The Day of the Jackal, and I’ve got the gall(de Gaulle) to assassinate.

I woke up just to kill like a Manchurian candidate.

So you came to the UK for whose name? Are you sane?

You must be close to nuts, 'cause i got you in the pocket. That’s loose change.

Your number’s up, bingo, and we're in front of a full house.

To see me put another kid in a box, like when its too good to pull out.

See I can read his thoughts, so I’ve got to let the people know,

he can't beat me fair and square; he swear he should’ve cheated like Keyshia Cole.

They love you in Canada, over here different treatment though

'cause whats usually Organic(k) process(ed) getting sprayed. That’s a G.M.O.

So I figured, 'cause you don’t really rap that well, I’ll stick to the plan

and (w)rap circles ‘round you til you tire like the Michelin Man.

Now this my hometown, so don’t get annoyed if you can't win,

and start hyping up, ‘cause I’m poised to just spark him

like I’m boycotting stardom.

‘Cause if I flip, then it’s Clips and Loaded, or Loaded and Clips,

‘cause I’ve got to see money hit the floor like a coin toss in Harlem.



Photo by @ThatYoutJoel for Don't Flop. Lyrics transcribed in full, including slurs and offensive rhetoric in interest of accuracy. Language used and views expressed are those of the performers cited.

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