Don’t front…
Don’t front…
Don’t front…
Used to get bent, now I represent to the fullest
Pencil is full of insulin bullets
I’m like a Doberman Pinscher, Pitbull and a Rot’ mixed with a toxin
The plot begins to thicken, I begin to spit like vintage Pac
Demented, demonic sinister…
Ever since the the doc’ replenished me the day he gave me that shot
When I was just about to quit
So to not see him with me would a shocking image
And I’m the definition of what a concrete chin is
‘Cause no matter how many times you sock me in it
And knock me to the canvas, even the boxing critics
Know that if I get off to a rocky start, I’ll always have a Rocky finish
Eat me brocoli, spinach, cocky?
Nope – but I hope I offended you when I told ya how dope I am at this
And put emphasis on the “dope”
So when names come up in the conversation of who’s the dopest
Better throw mine in it – and don’t mind me
While I remind you of the flow you won’t find anywhere when it fires
And I unload my pen explodes ’til there’s no rhymes in it
Reload in no time, let insults fly ever sixty seconds that go by
So you know I meant it…
In school I was so shy, timid – two pairs of jean’s I’d alternate
Bummy clothes, I ‘member beggin’ my mom for Kmart MacGregors
‘Cause they were new – Saint-Vincent De Paul
Those Pony’s were used, and no size fitted…
But kissed them old days adios, I did it
They said I was a gimmick, now I’m the one that those guys mimic
Now you fuckers don’t wanna’ go startin’ no argument
‘Cause you know I’ll win it
Name a flow that’s more authentic, and don’t front…
You know I got I got cha opin – don’t front…
You know I got I got cha opin, kid – don’t front…
You know I got cha…
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