| Yo, The year 2000 and 1
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| The shit talkers, Jakki Da Mota Mouth
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| Copywrite78
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| Ya know, fuck everything else
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| It doesnt matter
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| Yo, I’m raw spitting, speak heat to leave your corpse sizzlin'
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| Y’all wanna brawl mission, that’s more for the mortician
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| Y’all made a poor decision trying to war with em With 45, outta 44 or 4 bitten, wanna spark still
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| Left you with a 20 scar grill
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| That ain’t a verse, You written a 20 bar will
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| And I know ya’ll can’t excel
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| Though ya’ll prance and yell
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| Plant in a cell
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| But you ain’t got a snowball chance in hell
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| Finish your verse
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| Before I diminish your turf
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| Broke the 10 commandments my first 5 minutes on earth
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| Futuristic, since my parents formed me from an egg, met
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| I got physic’s «ing shit that I ain’t even said yet
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| Hell is not far, the firespitter
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| Inspire quiters
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| When I drop bars like a retired stripper
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| Don’t like fit «ing shit that I said
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| This ain’t shit, you won’t hear my dopest shit when I’m dead
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| Got 7 albums locked with a key and they will no be released
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| Until I start rotting in peace
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| Till that day I’ll keep droppin’MC’s
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| You don’t like it, you can suck my cock and the 2 rocks underneath
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| When I guest appear labels pay me to hold you back
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| So I won’t outshine their artists on their own tracks
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| Dug in my hip and the day y’all ain’t feelin nothin I spit
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| I’mma drop the mic, like «Fuck it I quit»
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| You wanna bite, repeat it with a pen, I’m Copywrite
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| Not conceded, I’m convinced
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| I got listeners checkin'
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| So, rewind the 1st verse 3 times be-fore you get to the 2nd
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| The Mota Mouth on the track with me God might as well set fire to earth and rain gasoline
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| This ain’t no rap on, peace on It’s Theme Music to sock the 1st MC stupid to breathe wrong
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| Suppose you gain courage enough to step to me by bustin'
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| You’ll be the lowest 2 MC’s, me and multiple concussion
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| As I rock here with muthafuckaz and their crazy style
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| Put that glock to their head, are you crazy now?
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| You want mathematic thinkers come to Chicago
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| My circum (circumference) 3.14 (3.1 to 4) MC’s I eat like pie (pi)
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| Go head take the mic so I could take your health
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| Don’t give this man a hand for makin’a fool out himself
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| He grabbed the steel, spit a few verses about his few crowd
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| Lasted for about 2 minutes then his ass got booted out
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| I’m sick of rhymers rappin’like they raw breeders
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| I can whore them but when I’m in a scene they beat is so beaters
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| You have no freakin’skill, I’ll take your soul and dip
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| You dont think I’m real, touch me if you fake, you don’t exist
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| I’m Mota Mouth, I smash flows
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| Come to one of my drunkin’shows
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| Tell me, «Have you ever met a bigger asshole!»
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| Approach the stage wit heart
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| Bring your punk fan (s)
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| Fuck around, grab the mic, and get tripled team by one man
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| Who wanna battle, please come and get your ass kicked
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| You all sound like a tad bit of bad shit
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| You retarted and you frontin like you pimp shit
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| You ain’t hard and you ain’t nuttin’like a limp dick
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| You choose to test this nigga, my word’s merciless
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| You move puttin’your best shit up against my worst verses
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| You wanna bite, repeat it with a pen, I’m Copywrite
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| Not conceded, I’m convinced
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| I got listeners checkin'
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| So, rewind the 1st verse 3 times be-fore you get to the 2nd
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| The Mota Mouth on the track with me God might as well set fire to earth and rain gasoline
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| This ain’t no rap on, peace on It’s Theme Music to sock the 1st MC stupid to breathe wrong
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| Muthafuckaz, Copywrite MC’s, Seven-Eight
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| Try to run your mouth |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Theme Music , by - Copywrite. Song from the album The High Exhaulted, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп