| Ha ha ha, thanks for the introduction
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| So Funk Volume fans, I can’t rap, right? |
| Well, I bet you the next one hundred
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| and ten bars say otherwise!
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| And let me start by showing you how to address somebody with less fans than
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| fans than you!
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| I’m about to eat and pleasantly shit out Shizzy sizzle
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| And the little Niggy tickles, So I guess I did it for shits and giggles
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| You found a way to elicit my rage
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| All your little short bus fans posting your bullshit diss on my page
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| So you like to skateboard?
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| I like to sit and think what I hate more, your stupid fucking face, your lisp,
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| or your braids
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| I’m sorry Shizzy, but I had to mention
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| With that lisp, your whack ass could take first in the Special Rap Olympics
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| You’re uglier than Swizz’s ass, go kiss in his cage
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| You two go together like Jarren Benton’s dick and some AIDS
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| Why am I dissing you? |
| Hey, I ain’t too much of a prideful coward bitch to
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| acknowledge some shit when it sprays
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| Funk volume? |
| More like punk volume!
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| I been slapping them silly and they just sit and take it like bitches for days!
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| Look at them shaking in the corner, sharing their body warmth
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| While the almighty Hopsin sits and gets rich from his slaves
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| I think it’s funny that your fans think I’m not raw
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| When everyone of y’all kissed my ass, DJ Hop saw
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| But he’s a two face pretentious pussy pop doll
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| With Hopsin’s hot sauce-covered cock and lock jaw
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| Look at these punks trying to play dope
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| You faggots are faker than a pack of drag queens on a parade float
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| It’s time to let you bitches know, I’m so «reel», I should be stuck to a
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| fishing pole
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| Listen, this is punk volume!
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| Hey, you can run, you can hide, but can’t escape from the vibe
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| I’m giving you punk volume!
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| Look around and you’ll see they’re all living a lie, and I’m telling you why
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| Yo, it’s never gonna stop, on and on I’ll go
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| Until the whole world hears it and they all will know
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| That punk volume is going down in flames at the end of the night
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| And I’m telling you why!
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| Yo, so Hopsin’s the greatest rapper alive, right?
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| I bet you if you scratch his black off
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| You’ll probably get a 1999 bright blond hair, blue eye, white new guy
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| With five Spice Girls sitting next to Dr. Dre saying «Hi», right?
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| Let’s put the facts together, he ain’t a rapper
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| He’s the worlds' biggest blackest Marshall Mathers swagger jacker ever
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| It’s fucking sad but clever, every single thing he does, Eminem did ten years
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| in the past and better
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| He’s just a big clone! |
| Somebody took white contacts and stuck them on a slim
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| shady dip cone
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| And Eminem’s own fans kids were just stoned enough for it to work,
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| now he’s dancing in the end-zone
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| Look at this leech bitch preaching against reefer
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| While SwizZz, Jarren, and Dizzy Khalifa sit and get blown
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| Hits home doesn’t it, bitch? |
| Go on and push me
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| I got hours of audio that confirms you’re a pussy
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| It’s funny as fuck watching your fans trying to defend you
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| And deny all the allegations I filed against you
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| And you said it with your own words, «I was like a brother»
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| Who discovered your only loyal to those that benefit you
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| I was there when you were broke and nourished you
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| Helping you flourish, pursue your true purpose, encouraged and asserted you
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| But when it came time to go to bat for me, you jumped ship
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| And gave me some cash and told me keep it on the hush tip, like what the fuck,
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| bitch?
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| Money can’t erase the pain of your best friend punching you right in your
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| fucking face!
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| And you only apologize when I turn the heat on
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| And Dame’s like, «He's gone, let by-gones be peons!
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| We’re Funk Volume! |
| We don’t need him, fuck Jokerr, he mad!
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| He just wants to use you to get fans he wishes he had!
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| And what? |
| I’m using you too? |
| Pfft, that’s some crazy shit!
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| Remember when you couldn’t pay your rent and I came and gave you it?
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| Remember when you tossed your deal with Ruthless out the window?
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| And all your little homies disappeared when you went broke?
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| When everybody else left, me and SwizZz would still kick it»
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| Duh Marcus, what the fuck you think? |
| You’re their meal ticket!
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| You’re more naive than a battered wife
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| You think Dame would’ve given you a fucking cent if you were half as nice? |
| You think if you were just some dude he’d sacrifice
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| His time to help you get back your life? |
| Ha ha ha! |
| Right!
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| Like when you met that good girl who was so fine
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| Knew that you were a famous rapper but paid it no mind!
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| You almost cried, Hop, don’t lie
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| Remember when you discovered she was sneaking off and smoking the whole time?
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| And you fucking stayed with her, like I said, no spine
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| And she’s nine years younger than you, bro, whoa, lines!
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| And you’re supposed to be a Christian? |
| Shit!
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| Don’t be surprised if Jesus shows up and kicks your dick
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| You’re a fraud! |
| The lowest of the low kind
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| You sell your fans bullshit and they all sniff it like a coke line!
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| If that’s how you want it, bro, fine!
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| I’ll show you how far I’m willing to go with this shit in no time!
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| This is punk volume!
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| Hey yo, this last verse is for the fans, you idolize these mother fuckers
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| You’re like putty in their porkish hands
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| And first they do it for the love, 'til you fork 'em grands
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| Then they’re like, «Eh, this works."Fuck it abort the plan
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| You wonder why your favorite rappers all start out dope?
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| Then start to suck ass when they stepped in the corporate land?
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| Cause when the money comes they toss integrity out the window
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| When you keep buying the shit and support the scam!
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| But I’m a big hater
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| Yeah, I’m the bad guy for standing up and telling you they’re selling you a fat
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| lie
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| They hold up a turd and tell you it’s gold and your ass buys!
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| I tell you it’s a turd and walk away with black eyes!
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| You think I diss cause I’m upset?
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| You think I diss cause I’m just a big hater and mad cause I ain’t make it yet?
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| Well, let me tell you something, all these dudes that you respect
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| Are greedy cowards and only look at you as human checks
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| I knew Hopsin before the fame
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| I loved him like a brother and he fucking hated Dame, So what made him change?
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| The money that he says he’s hates
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| He turned over control of his company to a snake, now he can’t escape!
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| And you let him do it, you never told him no
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| You still buy the records, you still go to shows
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| You know it isn’t right, you can feel it inside
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| But someone famous said it was, so you compromised
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| And you shoot the messenger cause all you think I do is hate
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| And call me a pussy in clown makeup, while you chew the bait
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| Huh, when all I did was give it to you straight
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| And stood the fuck up to Dame when he threw his weight
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| So ask yourself, am I the nerdy queer?
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| Who’s just jealous Funk Volume had a perfect year?
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| Or am I the only one who respects you enough
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| To tell you all the truth, even if it hurts to hear!
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| Hopsin was like a brother to me, I would have done anything for him
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| And when it came time to have my back
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| He took sides with the same person who was trying to destroy me because he
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| makes Hopsin money
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| He used to stand against everything Funk Volume is doing now
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| But he fell in love with the money and fame and now he sits there like a coward
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| while you guys defend his bullshit
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| When he said out of his own mouth he hates what Funk Volume has become
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| But there’s too much money involved to walk away from it
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| So I why do I diss? |
| I diss cause I don’t look at you like a money bag
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| I diss because unlike Hopsin, I look at you as intelligent individuals
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| Who deserve to know the truth about the people you’re supporting
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| My loyalty is to you and they’re fucking lying to you!
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| And anybody lying to you has a permanent enemy in me!
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| If you hate me for that, I don’t know what to tell you! |