| You gotta realize you’re fuckin' with the baddest
|
| Make these so called rappers reevaluate their status
|
| Cause before we touch the mic you actually were believin'
|
| That the bullshit you do is called MCin'
|
| That ain’t MCin'!
|
| You gotta realize you’re fuckin' with the baddest
|
| Make these so called rappers reevaluate their status
|
| Cause after we rock the mic you cats will stop believin'
|
| That that bullshit you do should even be called MCin'
|
| Ayo peep it
|
| I don’t brag and boast for pure recreation
|
| If I say I’ll serve a rapper, I’m just givin' you useful information
|
| You already proved that you’re fake
|
| Chokin' in a vocal booth, pokin' holes in your swollen throat
|
| Hopelessly redoing your takes
|
| I’ll whip that crew into shape
|
| Embarrass you so bad that arrogance you had
|
| Will turn into a voice, tellin' you to move outta state
|
| Wait, let me guess
|
| You’re the dopest out of everyone you know
|
| And got the balls to think you can fuck with a pro
|
| I don’t think so
|
| You need to re-evaluate what you’re doin', Blueprint
|
| And Eye-dea re-define this shit called rhymin' stupid
|
| High and drenched felines, that why I don’t make battle music
|
| Cause I don’t need to write songs about battlin' bitch
|
| I do it
|
| So tell your camp, if anyone got beef
|
| They can pick a place to meet and I’ll greet them with defeat
|
| But, if not
|
| Tell them to keep comin' to the shows
|
| Wavin' their hands, yellin' «Ho"like the fans we all know
|
| Yo
|
| You gotta realize you’re fuckin' with the baddest
|
| Make these so called rappers reevaluate their status
|
| Because before we hit the stage you were actually believin'
|
| What you did prior to this was MCin'
|
| That ain’t MCin'!
|
| You gotta realize you’re fuckin' with the baddest
|
| Make these so called rappers reevaluate their status
|
| Cause after we rip the mic you kids will stop believin'
|
| That the bullshit you and your boys do on the weekend is MCin'
|
| I got the feelin'
|
| I’ve already heard your verse
|
| So any turn you take will only be a turn for the worse
|
| That’s the truth and I know it hurts
|
| You’re so bad, I’ll have the last laugh even when I rhyme first
|
| I hear the frontin'
|
| I hear loud talkin'
|
| I see the posin'
|
| And I hear the dogs barkin'
|
| But listen dog nuts, you ain’t a hard target
|
| Cause every bar you rhyme is just a nail in your coffin
|
| Every battle is a chance to see another cat lose to me
|
| I don’t write battle raps
|
| I write eulogies
|
| For herbs that got nerve that think they can’t be wack
|
| Cause they undefeated in the mirror, battlin' fantasy cats
|
| I rep
|
| Grown band, get man handle rap
|
| You rep open toed sandals and fanny packs
|
| Beat Blueprint or Eyedea?
|
| Can’t see that
|
| We’ll give you a free L plus your sanity back
|
| Bitch
|
| You gotta realize you’re fuckin' with the baddest
|
| Make these so called rappers reevaluate they status
|
| Cause before we hit your circle you weakling were believin'
|
| What you did before we got there was MCin'
|
| That ain’t MCin'!
|
| You gotta realize you’re fuckin' with the baddest
|
| Make these so called rappers reevaluate they status
|
| Cause after we rock the mic you cats will stop believin'
|
| That that bullshit you do should even be called MCin'
|
| So
|
| Have you figured out what the fuck you doin' wrong yet?
|
| Cats with no stage presence shouldn’t rock a long set
|
| Yo, if you’re comin' to my show, you better have a strong neck
|
| Cause heads nod way out of control when we’re on deck
|
| Man, I couldn’t keep myself awake for the five minutes your song stretched
|
| They can’t move a crowd cause they lack the arm strength
|
| The kinda cats that I’d rather keep at arm’s length
|
| Frontin' like they hard when we know that they harmless
|
| These MC’s
|
| They be the first to get scared
|
| While we kickin' verses, they weep, squeezin' a teddy bear
|
| The Orphanage turned your concept of a rap career
|
| From a pretty day dream into your worst nightmare
|
| Ah yes, right there
|
| The feelin' of perfection, quite rare
|
| Fully loaded mic bullies, Blueprint, Eyedea
|
| I can smell victory in the night’s air
|
| Greatness, Rhymesayers |