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houston bar code - charron vs. scotty lyrics

[round 1: scotty]
bro, you are gonna say some of the corniest sh-t i’ve ever heard
and i know that
for a fact
but they gon’ laugh at yo’ -ss, you know why? cause you white and i’m black
but you white white tho’, you ain’t one of them ones that’s tryin’ to be a brother you know, and i can respect that
h-lla, if i wanted to battle a wigger, i would’ve just booked pat
my dawg called me like, “who you got next?”
i said, “bro if i told you, you wouldn’t be a believer.”
he said, “who you got?”
i said, ” you know that lil’ white boy that be battlin’ on wild ‘n out?”
he said, “who? justina?”
i said, “nah man. nah. not him. i mean. not her
i’m talkin’ ’bout the skinny, tall dude from canada
the one who don’t sh-t else but the freestyle battles
rest of the show he walk around lookin’ stupid on camera.”
he said, “yeah. lil’ white boy can freestyle tho.”
i’m like, “yeah, well that’s about it.”
you better freestyle a whole round cause your writtens don’t be ’bout sh-t
boy you be punchin’ in bunches and just be prayin’ to land somethin’
if i do punches in bunches, b-tch the ambulance comin’
f-ckin’ rappin’, we scr-ppin’ n-gg-, let’s hand for hand somethin’
a beam on this b-tch chest, i get a mammogram from him
why? cause we seen him battlin’ nick cannon, even seen him battlin’ big kannon
i’m like, “okay b-tch, i wanna see what you do with this cannon.”
he havin’ big panics, i’m talkin’ ’bout big panics
i hate to sound like trump but, man i don’t give a f-ck about his panics (hispanics)
cause you out here rockin’ out here rockin’ make america great again hats
stay in canada b-tch
then you takin’ pictures with confederate flags on your sh-
stay off camera b-tch
cause my black and latino people don’t play like that ese
get that through your egg -ss head ‘fore i scramble ya sh-t
wait a minute, i’m turnin’ up way too soon y’all, where my manners and sh-t
welcome to the south b-tch
you in my house b-tch
we be sippin’ sizzy hoe, we be drippin’ sauce b-tch
you in my house b-tch, so you gonna show me some respect
so when you rap, take that b-ss out ya voice young man, suck in ya f-ckin’ chest
we don’t believe all that tough sh-t you be talkin’ dawg, you are not a f-ckin’ threat
only time n-gg-s say yo’ b-tch -ss clappin’ is when yo’ girl got on a summer dress
if you gonna be stayin’ in my house little boy, we gonna have some ch-r-s for you
i mean me casa su casa, right?
that mean it’s yours too
first off, take out that trash -ss verse that you got in store for use
then go polish ya flow, right after i mop the floor witchu
i told him that he’s always welcome my do’s is open
truth be told if he roll up in my back woods (backwoods) we’re gonna smoke him
let’s get right, i grab a stiff knife, i’m gonna poke him
white boy bet’ not be home alone if he ain’t macaulay culkin
i mean cause you prolly could beat me dawg, just not here
a lot of dudes wanna walk in my shoes, but this just my pair
he like, “this supposed to be a united states scotty. i thought we was together man. somethin’ just not clear.”
boy, now you arrival (a rival) just you just got here
the part you’re (departure) missin’, is if scotty take flight, i damage ya
i pull up with a buncha chopsticks and mop sticks, i feel like a chinese janitor
in court, they got me on a body, district attorney tryin’ to lock me
man, tell that b-tch, i’ll handle her
man i will can’ a da like i was tryin’ to spell “canada”
then the judge like, “uh. mr. scott you intentionally shot charron three times. young man you’re on some savage sh-t.”
“no, no, no your honor. i intentionally shot him twice. now that third one? was an accident.”
you should’ve seen the lil’ white boy, up there talkin’ on some tough rapper sh-t
up there puttin’ on a show, actin’ like i won’t clap the sh-t
yeah i’m american, but don’t forget the part i’m african
next time you wanna go rockin’ confederate flags and sh-t
cause my american side like, “ah he from canada. he don’t know what’s up.” give him a p-ss and sh-t
but the black in me like, “f-ck all that. he know what’s up. let’s whoop his -ss lil’ b-tch.”
so watch that lil’ stuff that you’re wearin’ in the message ya sharin’
beat the b-tch outta him, turn this n-gg- charron into sharon
but he call himself “billy pistolz”
i wonder, which pistol this b-tch sharon is carryin’?
two 2’s, one for you and ya crew. yeah i know sharing is caring.”
cause if i hit him wit’ two clips they like, “boy you grindin’.”
but if i slap him cross his face they like, “boy you shining.”
that texas boy cold and that pressure they put on it just bought you diamonds
told him i’m a king in this battle rap jungle they like, “boy you lyin’ (lion).”
it’s president scotty, this branch that i’m smokin’ is executive
when it come to this texas sh-t, i’m one of they top delegates
so i advise you, not to f-ck with n-body in this house that i represent
cause all the cans in my cabinet good, h-ll i’ll even send it (senate) to your president
i had to tell ya b-tch, ya n-gg- ’bout to die hoe
and judgin’ by them thighs, that p-ssy gon’ die wit’ him
i’m like, “sh-t. hold it up.” put it to my nose and stuff
girl i want it, it’s my dinner, y’all already know what’s up
she opened up and let me dive in her
i’m puttin’ good d from texas to canada like kawhi leonard
if i shout it i’m ’bout it, you doubt it? come and find out
lame, this ain’t a game, you cannot take a time out
you see how comfortably i’m dressed n-gg-? it’s cause the south is my house
i spit flames if you try to rick james my couch
a side n-gg-, we out this b-tch

[round 1: charron]
i said listen scotty, i really think outta houston you the weakest mc
he got all them wild ‘n out jokes, so i’m squeezin’ the three
give him the red head, now he look a lot more like justina to me
see all them wild ‘n out jokes you got, they ain’t insane
at your next family reunion they won’t say ya name
i battled big kannon, nick cannon, what i’m doin’ with this cannon? ooh i’m takin’ aim
when i pick up and k!ll it, it ain’t a game
see they ain’t gonna get that, and he doin’ the raptors bars
i’m thinkin’ he gon’ die fast
i mean you thinkin’ you kawhi leonard? you thinkin’ i’m someone you can byp-ss?
you really think you winnin’?
hahaha; kawhi laugh
we still doin’ reb-ttals? y’all still want the reb-ttals or give him the writtens? what do we want?
reb-ttals?
oh they want reb-ttals? well i’m doin’ that
i swear to god i’m a white boy but i got the toolie strapped
he sayin’ i’m home alone like macaulay culkin, i got him movin’ back
i go hard in the paint, when i hit him with the can’ over and over it ain’t a b–by trap
see scotty, you gettin’ more than a payday out me
i’ve been takin’ an l since shine slapped the mayonnaise out me
been doin’ karate on the low, i’ll drop him with a bow
i got one hit wonders; scotty doesn’t know
i’ll f-cking k!ll your whole family next time
i settle scores with sudden death, everybody will get tied
ya mom, ya sis’ all ya friends died
even your child f-cked if i pull out this tec-9 (tech 9)
it’s dead time, have it goin’ through his cartilage
get stabbed at his event, h.o.m.e. is where the heart is
we shoulda battled on n.o.m.e. this b-tch losin
you woulda died on smack i call that “whitney”, houston
i said this your event, i ain’t accepting a truce
you gettin’ beat at h.o.m.e. 2; domestic abuse
send me the proof, i don’t think that your squad tougher
june 8th is doomsday i’ll turn this to a blockbuster
he lay in a trash can got stuck with a box cutter
jean grey in the last stand i’m f-ckin’ up scott summer(s)
stop frontin’, claimin’ i’ll catch a hot hand
that’s all eyez on me; ‘pac fan
i roll up on him like “god d-mn”
put him in a bag, pipes will get him k!lled (kilt) and i don’t care where scott land (scotland)
you a fake -ss verb; no rhymes
think he’s showtime ’til it’s show time
i’ll ride up, it’s go time
wanna be verb in houston ’til you face something loaded; n.o.m.e. 9
shoot until i’m out of ammo but hold it down
i brought a big kannon and it comes with a bonus round
i can press scott (prescott) and i don’t watch sports
get off scott free, k!lled in on scott’s porch
it’s gotta hurt scott just got torched
white boy layin’ a beat down i’m scott storch
you set this up this event and the doe straight
don’t think you safe cause you gettin’ the h.o.m.e. plate
you said the fans gonna have headphones on, i’m like “oh great”
now they can finally hear your bars while they’re havin’ a smoke break
let’s knuckle up
yo i’m f-ckin’ up
yo where’s my water?
nah we in houston, i need that double cup
but where’s my manners though?
welcome to the south b-tch
you in my house b-tch
we be sippin’ sizzer hoe, we be drippin’ sauce b-tch
see i’m in houston by myself this not smart
get knocked out the ballpark
i’m scanning the bar code and baggin’ sh-t up, i’m rum nitty at walmart
y’all start thinkin’ he a prince cause he rap-a-lot
i snap a lot
peel his lid back facts; snapple top
left earth when i battled roc
nasa launch’; astronaut
houston we have a…dead dead body let the casket drop
yo this has to stop, you’re an after thought
b-tterfly effect with the pen i’m known to black a lot
get split this what kourtney kardashian’ got
if scott diss sick, here’s an ‘antidote’ i’m travis scott
we good now no reason to look now
just don’t get outta pocket like a suge round
“i lost to corey charron” doesn’t have a good sound
you’re the opposite of twork you lettin’ the hood down
i am not strapped in i will not clap you in a coma
hat flips i could get slapped at any moment
but i watched your pg, i saw it on my phone
i can’t believe you got bodied by rhymezone
3-0, loso
you couldn’t check religion
i was gonna have a scott steiner bar, but you never winnin
battle raps like wrestling you couldn’t test a christian
we be drippin’ sauce-
man you never drippin’
cut the swag out, get to spittin
bermuda triangle all that fly sh-t we’ll have you end up missin’
smack who is this?
got this body down to a t; crucifix
this cracker’s bread different; it ain’t somethin’ you can risk (eucharist)
you lost to dna, ill will, now you lose to this, you could use a lift (lyft)
if you can’t handle one star who gon’ ride witchu? uber trips
i shoulda got trez, i’d have stupid flips
give me glue’ for this
t-top you’d get rinsed
i’d expose chess (chest) on cam’; shooney’s t-ts
but i heard trez was talkin’ sh-t, well he needs to worry
you ain’t in my level, that’s an easy 30
the chef don’t have my undivided attention ayesha curry
we can’t trade spots
i beat the shine’s and tay roc’s
and head off to the next body; face swaps
i get paid lots
what i charge is the fair at (phara) funerals, now you stuck in that same box
you mad? i told you i’d take shots of
texas chainsaw, i get under your skin as soon as we face off
it used to be, “f-ck charron. he’s gettin’ cooked.”
now it’s “i love charron. he’s gettin’ booked.”
leather face, these bodies gave me a different look
and it seems worse, this ain’t the old charron, do your research
i got the confidence of t-rex buyin’ smedium t-shirts
bar game crazy for my dogs i’m going mental
john wick i’m catching bodies with this pencil
and i can freestyle prepare for a takeover
all i need in houston is a lil flip and it’s ‘game over’
a wizard with the frees what you rappin’ i’m gon’ flip
scotty next to the goat i’m back in my bull sh-t
go jordan on you
no sorry on you
bring up that dna problem go maury on you
liquor pourin’ on you
treat you like big kannon and drop a 40 on you
get beat up, you’re a weak f-ck, canadian but my team tough
it’s hands across america as soon as you see us
i said the tec chrome drawn
hit him from the right and the left gon’ bomb
he gettin’ lit up from both sides, look like he got headphones on
nothing he saids iller, i don’t respect filler
y’all know my slogan, i’m the ph reject k!ller

- houston bar code lyrics

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