Recap: Chilla Jones has been in the game too long to not know that elongated rounds can work against him. But somehow the ‘Kingpen’ still falls victim to either wanting to show off his pen way too much (which against a stellar lyricist like Iron Solomon is understandable) or he just doesn’t have the wherewithal to make his rounds more succinct and get rid of unnecessary filler. To be fair, in what was a punch-heavy-on-both-sides lyrical manifesto that stayed close throughout, Chilla’s versatility game stayed on high alert here, as the Boston rapper flexed repeatedly with fire punchlines, grandiose schemes, dope (“Summer the only time you was facing a Murda, when Mook was done with you, all they found was your glasses and a Skittles bag!”) personals/name flips and solid gun lines. But one too many nimble reaches with the bars, sermonizing (leave the impression’s alone, even if it’s in good taste, it’s just not you); gritty but nonsensical bars towards an opponent who doesn’t pretend too much to be street and a lack of cohesion with the bars was just enough to leave a more compact, braggadocio, theme-centric, set-up/personal heavy and wordplay (“Sometimes you gotta talk to these bitches, I’m mansplaining!”) spazzing Iron Solomon with enough room to take the latter two rounds and earn the win.
Verdict: Iron Solomon (W) 2-1
Favorite line: Iron Solomon – “I’m Q, I’ll write through anyone in this guy’s crew, anybody could fucking get it, I’m AIDS in 9-2!”
