 Our friendship was so strong, we had the greatest banter, next thing you know, fucking it packs in a lancer! You should y'all make some noise, you vicious, I got the homie herb. Yo, let's give my knack to it out, don't flop, don't flop a fucking day, shout out to the landmine. Word, on my left, we got the homie Bricks Belvenir. On the right, first, in the National MC, I'm introducing of the day, reference, don't flop. UK obviously makes some fucking noise for impact, let's go! Flips of camera impact, wanna flip, you chose Bricks to go first, 90 seconds on Bricks. Don't flop, finally gave me a killer, then replaced him with you. I'm one hired at any level you taking it to, you a suicide drunk, you gonna die, but taking a view, you get clacked and recapped, let me make the review. This was supposed to be villain, but he chilling, backing down quick, I put containers and blenders, give me ice to pack him down with, put feather weights in a better place, I'm packy, I'll swift, the car will move, but wouldn't have no impact without Bricks. See, I could match him out with, he thinkin' we bout even, I be cookin' without lookin', I'm thinkin' he bout season, I crack his right side, Jesus his mouth flippin' the side piece, coming for his other half, he thinkin' it's spouse cheap. I been speakin' with wild demons, that's why he held stress, you goin' to box with no top but you'll be well dressed, I cut your plea short with the text like PLS, strappin' them dummies for impact like a seatbelt test. What's wild is, in your debut, you ready to die like Big Papa. He say he ain't all his confidence been knocked, I beat them sweet rappers out, I'm like pinatas. You don't know, we're a combo for the books like kids lockers, my chest out, my chest out like big knockers, cause Earth said, I'll get a shot and if I'm good, I get a sucker. We'll get the kids doctor, I'm goin' new ones with a macaroni clipped chopper, hit your guardian angel hair and make this imposter ill, pasta. We use all these guns and he's a little nigger. Shit, I probably wouldn't use him so much if I was a little bigger. All in his house with a stout and a dill swishin', lookin' for a victim, I be pickin' like a fail nigger. I do this for my real niggas, I do this for my real niggas, smokin' that dowel shit, I'm claustrophobic but all I know is to keep a crowded clique, this whole bricks, this bitch ain't even a power sniff, home decor, if I don't deck this fake, home's better make his count of fake. Good, that's one it. Don't got me out here in that lineup, yeah, so it's time to get it crackin' and rep. You put on some massive events, Earth, for that, you have my respect. Tony Shotty, sixth birthday, he's got bricks clashing in international vets, but with that being said, the one thing I haven't happened to get is how the fuck do you manage to bring EZ back from the dead? Yo, you thought his twat was a threat? I've got him paddling up shit's creek, called himself the king of punches. That's kind of conceited in a bit of a big reach, bitch please, how's he the punch god? We're 99% of his schemes, we're more forced than when he tries to close his lips over them big teeth. I think you fire, my flows could flood Hell and drown Satan. I've run and gone wrecking homes, leaving this town shaking, because when I have bricks laid out on the cement, I'm building my foundation. There'll be one word, foobar, because I'm catching a body in brick city like gang members in New York. So if bricks think he hop, and he won't take no, you'll see bricks getting shot, call it wholesale coke. And I'm reminded of coke, by all them lyrics that you spit, because you're like cut kilos, it's all filler in the bricks. Yo, but don't act like you're cutting keys, we all know there ain't no bricks bout. The only time you cut a key is when you moved into your chick's house. Yo, check it out, yo. This ain't a game, it's for real, stainless steel tray, aim straight at your grill, lost thing you ate, you will spill. But it's like a karate lesson, how I'm making this kill, because I'll smash bricks for a simple demonstration of skill, what's a bit the wickedest? The difference in ability is clear, before I take him off my hit list, have him living in fear, it's like I'm playing Tetris. It's sort of like bricks isn't here, because when the right lines connect, you'll see bricks disappear. I've got my own bag, all reconstruct, I've ruled from 300 stacking these bodies that I catch. You ain't no fucking bad man, honestly you're whack, so I'll put bricks in a box like a geometry exam. Thank you nigga, I'll fuck it. That last line was nothing but the best. I could say I'm like Super Mario, because I can smash bricks off the top of the head. But something a bit more sicker, I'm like a Shaolin monk, because I can smash bricks with my little finger. I got the short one when they was passing out sticks, because if I beat John John, how he get irked? Nigga, I'm mad about this. If I knew you would be you, I'd have taxed them out quick. But, because the nigga that had the shot couldn't make it, y'all feel y'all could pass around bricks. Well now you up that creek with a leak, trying to paddle out shit. I'll be blacking out quick, magging half the outfit, fuck that emotional bull. Oh, you sad about this? I'll back out, pull mad cows in this cattle drop sick. Raph, tap him out quick. Good shit, then the souvenir. You gonna go back to UK, as a souvenir. You gonna die awake, it's a crying shame when I do the tits. You from Dunflop? Luke, oh, that's his name, I feel your pain, cause it's wack, Luke. I'ma be a honey, keep it truckin', like a Mack, Luke. Respect the game, it's F your name, take that. Take that, Fluke. You got booked, Luke, I am your offer. We train to run through the A, Luke, I am the martyr. I line you right up, Luke, I am your barber. All black, red, bean, Luke, I am really want the boss. That kinda make catch up if you really want the sauce. I feel like a Greek guard if you really want the spark, but hey, Zeus ain't the guard that you really wanna cross. To research this, motherfucker. Jeez, now that was a chore. I don't think there's a rapper out there with as many boring battles as yours. Bunch of meaningless wordplay, irrelevant schemes, all crowned and enforced. I bet even conceited sees you when Phil's a slight pan of remorse, cause out of his style, all you shitty word associating rappers were born. I mean, bitch, you basically cons features. Cause you ain't nothing but a less developed version of conceited. I mean, that shit reminds me of the film Thumbly A Menace. Yeah, you know I come with the truth. Cause conceited's your dad, but a nigga look younger than you. Keep on stamping on him till his back is gone. Your bar just reminds me of Rasta songs the way you babble on. I get my camera out and bums. You're seeing a Brit take a yank right his head off on camera. Call me Jahadi John. And if we take you to the streets, we'll find out who lies the better hands. Cause one punch will lean this square like a parallelogram, man. This bread is straight trash. This bread is straight trash. I thought I got a big MC, but all your battles, little league. You don't generate cash. You ain't king of the dot once. Just a couple times you ever made smack, got bodied on both of them, and never came back. Now he's seeing don't flop as his new silver lining. But in the UK, no one's going to find this loser exciting. You had your chance to shine, but never improved with your writing. So if you are a bill with it, it must have built you on a mountain cause your fuses are declining. But still, don't flop if giving him another chance to act right. Once again, it looks like Pookie's been sucking on that track bike. So fuck you and all your wack word paper, how you aiming a weapon. Your unoriginality keeps you down. You're like a slave in oppression. And after I've bodied this battle around the world, my face will be spreading. So it's like the Berlin Wall, cause I'm tearing down bricks in the name of progressions. They're looking about as gangster as some flower rangers. Yo, you ain't a G from the streets. You're a geek who does schemes about Dragon Ball Z and Power Rangers. I mean, you're a motherfucking scheme addict. But shit, if he was actually any good at it, that'd be magic. I remember when I first started, for the fame and shit, I battled from my respect, even just to say my name is Bricks. Now, the money still talks, it ain't a language switch. I evolved the style I came in with while these niggas just came and went. I went insane a bit. I took a one round loss, and that one round loss made me never take. One round off, cooking classics. They said I had no skill, it just panned out. Went totally, totally the best. I couldn't ask for no hand out. The bars never ran out, but eventually a passion did. But why you signed up for this lesson? Don't even know what class this is. See, what you doing for? Your respect or the glory? They know me, but why'd you get booked? They don't check for your story. Hey, but I've been back. Stop thinking you're slick rats to get to me. Crack how I ain't no smackin' Bricks rat for little leagues. But there's that old field that'll bring the kid back eventually. Going back in time changes everything. Impact your history. I used to be a name niggas wanted to beat, but fans lost respect because I killed people like you. They never wanted to see. In the names they want me to see, never want to compete. Give me that handicap match and start running from me. See, I had the battle niggas like this, but y'all say Bricks declined it. Rankers on quick decline it. I said Rankers on quick decline it. He ran and switched to climb it. You can't sit you here for slick refining. Act straight Lucas, if it's a body going back overseas, just know Bricks behind it. I heard this will happen when your bench get timey. I'm skinning them. This ass whooping was tailor made just for him and him. I said you gonna die or I live. Bitch, I'm sending them from eight miles down it's a wrap off top for Eminem. I said you two searches. Impact verses. Snorefest. Body bag purchase. I've been working. More checks. The trade pound cats out like Cortez. You're dead. The fuck is it? I said you're dead. The fuck is a paintball champ to a warfin. Even your horse said I'ma leave with the name in the mic. Cause I'm the only one with the name and I came for the money. Yo, check it out. Yeah, the Rainer rapper was weak as you. He said his career went downhill cause he kept battling whack rappers nags cause they just kept on fucking beating you. But we're back in the day. You battled Sue, sir. John, John. You used to kind of rap it though. But then niggers went on to do bigger things. Full little Belvey here got left alone. Even today. John, John's top of the flyer. Well, your name is the text below. So why'd you call yourself bricks when you're more like a stepping stone? I mean, physics. There ain't no need to pretend like we don't know bricks gonna sink when thrown in at the deep end. Cause you're a one-trick pony. And you're one-tricks pony. That's company rhyming slang for crying the crap. Your flows are so weak. Your career's in a state of decline. It's like MC. Your bars ain't nothing but phony. And since you look like Augustus Hill, I'll break bricks down to the OZ. Yo, cause you're as basic as they come. Your whole style is based on making one word sound like another word and then relating it to guns like, every round you shoot off at the mouth but never kill it when you bust. You must get something more to offer. Your artillery's defunct. Another smack-wrapper replica. Spitting about his guns, but he don't stop to think about how it's applicable to us. So I'm a gunman. A one-man military. A rock-gring hellfire. Won't miss I'll go ballistic. Then you'll fuck the state. Strap with the heat to twist him like the tip that's on my blunt and make any heck of the couch like I hit him with a slug, see? Boys that you believe are sick are like the wackiest that I wrote. They don't drop with the feet bar. They look at the camera like it's throwing. Planet skin. Man I couldn't cope. I did that same shit against Boski last year in Croatia as a joke. Check it out. Yo, it is born in Api's last battle. He's about some of the best shit that he's written and still born left the kid dead from the beginning. And now you're wondering why do Irel never have accepted you? Maybe cause your whole damn style is fucking destitute, a bit of originality. All that we expect from you and maybe if you had that you would actually get some views but all your rhymes are about as dry as a drought. I'm dead in victims. You pretty good chicken. You getting fried in the south. Wackers can be. Ain't none of the bars you spit actually deep. The only time people say, yo that dude bricks can spit they're just talking about the gap in your teeth.