I wrote this verse on the 25th,
But half a y’all just aint gon get it till the 26th.
I’m here to analyze ya shooter
Like I’m Kenny Smith.
But I ain’t Kenny,
Kenny can shoot it,
But can he spit?
This ain’t for morons,
Hashtag NEW Yiddi trick, and oxymorons,
Fat broads who skinny dip,
The War Report on,
Better come with your sword on,
I hit ya with that Cee-Lo Green,
You know that short arm.
The people caught on (wait),
I meant to say the People’s Court on (wait)
For the record I hope record on (brake)
Before I wreck it,
Too many styles to go on,
Wu-Tang is for the children,
Go get ya child support on.
I ain’t tryna bring the city back.
And all that pretty boy rap,
Ain’t where I’m really at.
Besides rappers don’t really ride,
they piggy back - I’ll trade them all
to have Tupac & Biggy back.
Facts. Don’t give me dap,
Don’t want your pity want Fifty Fifty,
just give me that.
Want every penny both Hanz on,
how many that?
A black president,
white house, whats really rap?
We not so friendly at my house (clicky clack)
If necessary, pet cemetery, ya kitty cat – Won’t let em eat
cause my other problems too many rats
Ya boy a beast on this mic Jack.
Da ratchet tryna peel (pill) ya like Mike Jack
call that thriller a nite cap.
Take a moment to suck it up,
but make it brief nobody cared if ya cow died,
don’t make it beef.
Rap game we own it,
we really in these streets.
You rap lames is homeless
you really in the streets.
I ain’t tryna bring the city back.
And all that pretty boy rap
ain’t where I’m really at.
Really how sillys that?
Besides rappers don’t really
ride they piggy back.
I’ll trade them all
to have Tupac & Biggy back.
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