* the author will rewrite and resubmit this when the LP is released
Lotta y’all dudes is WEAK!
So what? I said it!
I heard all y’all albums
This is for you Tommy Tucker’s you know em neighborhood suckers
We all got em stupid {motherfuckers}
Wannabe rap brothers bitin ass rappers who love us
Idolize us keep it real can’t touch us
Slick rapper far from a snitch rapper
A trick rapper, put the {dick} upon a sick rapper
Where it’s at rapper, rollin with the {?} rapper
Fat rapper, batter get your {heat} clapper
I’m that rapper, one you can’t even crush
Type of cat that {shit in your} crib and don’t even flush
Type of cat when you see him that you wantin to touch
Like you Russell Simmons but, you ain’t in no Rush
Cause when it all hit the fan, who the hell can you trust?
Duck in the water? Pity, where the hell can you go?
Who the hell can you get? When I’m ready to {hit}?
When you hear my name I make you hate spaghetti n {shit}
{?} if I get caught in a lie
{Bottle rockets} light you up like the 4th of July
I don’t need your help son I got support from the sky
Write fluid, I’m a definite, you might do it
Jiggy with {ones and guns} I got a right to it
Forget against the wall, I send your man right through it
Tattooed like Mike did it, leave you lightheaded
Swear to God, y’all cats better act like Christ said it
Hey yo yo who the hell this Sauce {nigga}
you talkin to man? Arrogant {bastard}
Chubby mother{fucker}, you think you alla that man?
I can’t even stand to hear this {shit} no more man
Hey you know what {motherfucker}? It don’t stop there
I’ma solidify my rap spot til it’s not fair
Nothin to do with it, rappers, sayin, «Glad it was them»
Somethin to do with it, rappers, don’t be glad it was them
Inspire men, or some R&B {nigga} who buy it ten
With Mya in it, {bitchin} from the way the tires spin
My whole circle is hot, like when the dryer spin
You just a cub kid, trapped off in a lion’s den
Lookin for love? Not here, you found hate stupid
I run with a 112 kids who {fucked} _Cupid_
Plus got head, see my eyes bloodshot red
Hands Where I Can See like Bust-a said
I lead by example kid, must I led?
Last thing you hear is {shots} and every cuss I said
Real rappers walkin away, paramedics walkin your way
Crackin jokes while I’m talkin to Jay
Gettin {pussy} from four dimes from New York in a day
This flow here is stainless, what you thought it was clay?
Thought it was gold? Only thing it bought was your soul
Split your wig then confuse you for that fork in the road
I don’t play with wack rappers, I slay wack rappers
Only aim {to the head and leave dead} wack rappers
Cats wanna front, and don’t trust my hits?
Don’t buy the album, {bitch motherfucker} I’m the {shit}
Better forget it just to be specific
Cause if you the one, then I’m two/too terrific
Better relax, ‘fore you get it twisted
It’s to the death now, if you make the {shit}list
Forget your lingo, and how you primadonna rappers mingle
I’m real money, fold up, you funny money, jingle
News flash, here’s a hot {ass} item to bring you
Had a car, Roley, and house before my first single
I know how y’all cats roll, quiet as a tear
My album ain’t even dropped and I’m writer of the year
I got hits, find me in your record store under hot hits
While you register, under not hits
I drop hits in the streets that {?}
Show after show, watch him, big as I roll
Y’all know the rules fool jewels women and dough
Did you hear? I’m the fattest nicest rapper you know
Now I hurt another brother, just to gain a buck
The few cats that’s not {faggots} just aim to duck
If you happen to sell half weight your game is luck
Who write for you? You all sound the same, lame as {fuck}
Can’t control it, tried to sell it, heard it the way you told it
Who bought it? And if you sold it? Extort it
For somethin I might of {smoked up} roll it
Never get grimy as me, I {fuck} around and snake {?}, hold it
I got both sides of the fence in minute
I got hits with Jay, Clark, Primo, and none of my wheels rented
I got a smash with Puff bout to drop any minute