Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Supreme, artist - Benefit
Date of issue: 31.12.2001
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Supreme |
You defiantly better respect me Before I check the pressure per square inch you face can withstand directly |
Beats so nice they spoil me, true loyalty |
I flip a sample so sick, I’m never paying royalties |
I demand to be held high like big salary |
Don’t ride my dick, you’ll get burnt like one calorie |
I can hold my own, and I’m soon to be known |
From the biggest city, down to where the wild cattle roam |
Low budgetness is no budget, I’m broker then broke |
So dirty, cheap, and raw has you chokin’on smoke |
Inhale and exhale, electrifyingly real |
My microphone is handcrafted from a live third rail |
I excel, fall off? |
you might as well, you bite as well |
that’ll send you right to hell |
Benefit prevail, about time it’s done |
And I blaze so hot I outshine the sun |
Continuous, so how do you plan to stop this? |
You can’t even come close to me like Lockness |
Topless, no bottom, no sides, no space |
That’s how I kill emcees and leave no trace |
Go ahead an try to find evidence |
But Benefits ghosts like dead presidents |
Your finished, why’d you step huh? |
with bad luck too |
Looks like you gamble real high in a game of fuck you |
No questions (scratching), Supreme (scratching) |
No questions (scratching), Supreme (scratching) |
All reality (scratching), Supreme (scratching) |
No questions (scratching), Supreme (scratching) |
No questions (scratching), Supreme (scratching) |
No questions (scratching), Supreme (scratching) |
All reality (scratching), Supreme (scratching) |
I’m broke in money but I’m rich in beats |
And I ain’t jokin’funny off the coke and rum, |
he’s got your bitch in heat |
An emcee wanted to be like me, I saw |
I dragged his ass in gravel and said now you’re raw |
Explain to me, it’s obviously plain to see |
The industry supports awfully lame MC’s |
Time to change this, rearrange the games list |
realize the games best often remain nameless |
Beware of Benny Brings he’s aware of everything |
Till death do us, hip-hop wares my wedding ring |
I’m above every emcee like Yankee’s caps |
You’re learnin’how to rhyme, better thank these raps |
But don’t call it that, call it hip-hop cause it is |
I got you shaking like those epileptic kids |
My thoughts move at a rate called ill-speed |
If deejay’s try to scratch this, their fingers will bleed |
I try to play the hand that good will dealt me I cut a kids head off, his body still felt me I knew cause the body did a windmill completely |
The blood spillin’out his neck was writin’in graffiti |
I try to help them seize out, they just won’t listen |
just a little criticism causes critical condition |
You know what’s incredibly painful? |
submission |
Don’t sell your integrity, you’ll get no commission. |
You faded away, step down you had one turn |
Come to close to me, you’ll catch a wicked sunburn |
I’ll pay no attention to a payroll mention |
Your din’push-ups, I’m in the gym bench pressin' |
That means I’m real deal, and your petty shit |
Fake mafia emcee’s spittin’spaghetti shit |
Using Gotti’s name in vain, and Gambino’s the same |
Time to chain the lame, damn quit makin’a claim |
Fuck the fame, when I spit, I spit propane |
My words burn emcee’s in infernal flame |
Eternal same, these rap acts dressin’alike |
It’s baptism and communion when I’m blessin’the mic |
Have no real skill, but time will tell |
If your gimmick catches on, then your rhyme will sell |
Undeniably ill, but broke as hell |
Just then the latest emcee joke just fell |
Place me on top, record labels pray I won’t drop |
Cause their emcee’s will quit, and the profits will stop |
I can see you, but I can’t feel you, like a mirage |
I’ll battle every sing person in your entourage |
Catch a slap to the face, gun clap in the waist |
just a rappin’disgrace, another rat in the race |
Wack emcee’s get the dick, and they’ll fall off quick |
What’s Benefit like? |
(umm he’s sick) |