| They say I’m rap mogul Russell Simmons in the Hip-Hop Summit
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| Too many girls got me coming
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| I’m what your wife is loving
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| Broadway ventriloquist
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| Every rapper out sit on my lap like a puppet
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| He’s my miniature-sized Flip Wilson, watch him talk
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| «What you mean you working me like a puppet?
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| Okay, then who are you?»
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| Whoa, shut up, I’m the owner of you
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| I can make you move your shoulders too
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| Frosted cookies, I don’t do
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| Because you rap from the butt on down with the Hostess crew
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| Cupcakes by the tons, your girl has some nice Cinnabuns
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| You rap in the booth and brag, I like the way her juices run
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| They say my songs ain’t radio-friendly, so they don’t play me
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| I’m on that Gucci, Fendi, bitches steadily envy
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| I’m all about my loot, niggas calling me pretty
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| I’m on that Puss In Boots, niggas calling me kitty-kitty
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| My fat cat got niggas committing murder
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| Drowning in this pussy is a death you never heard of
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| I keep it low-key but you can find me in
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| I rub off, motherfucking jerk-off
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| I make a rapper upset, piss a DJ off
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| Niggas mad but fuck that, turn your feelings off
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| Turn the lights on and see a fucking icon
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| Not that shit on your iPhone but the shit that Michael Jacks-on
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| Shade Clock, Kool Keith got me on this motherfucking track but no pimping
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| I look like an R & B singer, right, but no singing
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| Fred Beans, I keep it locked, God know I keep it true
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| Why fake what it is, watch your place, what it do
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| Rappers, they be mad at me, DJ’s, they after me
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| But I’m in the hood on my grind causing catastrophes
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| I would prefer to keep it low as possible while trying to blow
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| I’m out here stashing all my money watching all my statures grow
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| Keep your bitch away from me, especially if you’re cuffing her
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| 'Cause one minute, she’s in your arms, the next minute, I’m fucking her
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| You can catch me on a late night trying to get my head right
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| Or with my team in the studio getting my flows tight
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| My comfort level is never short of a thousand
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| That’s why I only feel safe when a thousand niggas surround me
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| So think what you want to think when it comes to a G
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| You know a lot of gangsters but not like me
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| So grab yourself a cup, fill it halfway up
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| 'Cause this here is a toast for niggas who don’t give a fuck |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Make a Rapper Upset , by - Kool Keith. Song from the album Demolition Crash, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп