Y'all niggas know me out there. Don't pretend that you don't.
Goin in for the dough. No resemblence to blow.
Y'all crackers know me out there. Don't pretend that I'm wack.
So offended at rap, if I grin I get slapped.
You Asians see me out there. Now I crossed the line.
Chinese. Japanese. Sega across my mind.
Hindu. The "then dos and don't" of Tenchu.
I felt the word inside. Know it? I don't pretend to.
Am I wrong cuz I befriend you?
Ask you your day? Tell you you are beautiful? I sense it's true.
So since it's true, fuck an interview.
Grab my nuts. Slacks is cut. My Vans gather dust.
You real ass non-real rappers is soft.
My point is my rap. And I'm rappin across it.
I was insane then I happen to lost it.
Battle till you forfeit. Laughter if you lost your accurate laughter at seeing how bad I lost it.
Wake up on top of a buried coffin.
Nightmares of dying. Very often.
After life is me being the slave of that Keri Horse chick.
My superstar status somewhere in orbit.
Fuckin blogs always talkin bout my terrible losses.
Magazines and their unsharable glosses.
Haven't showered in days again. You think they really care if he flosses?
Rappin from the POV of me.
My CD is OD but people see me and they flee.
That's the basics. Easy to see I'm a Flea.
I can flee, but no house or an Anthony Key.
Is that a diss?
Nigga I'm that!
So when you say "that" in conversation, I blacked.
Or got blacked on.
Grammatical attacks on what I last considered wrong in my last million songs.
These bitches sayin "This cat's really strong."
No pussy in a month. So all you cats, get it on.
Me and music go together like a snatch and a 'pon.
I don't give a Tam. Scratch when it's wrong.
A rash in my thong.
I'm not a bitch nigga.
But since most "hard niggas is bitches", I got your "bitch", nigga.
I told my new team I could drop in 6 figures.
The song is so pop, The King Of Pop didn't dig it.
Is that my fault?
Oops I just blacked.
Too much rap? Then I scoop up and Shaq.
For a clearer definition, one hand I throw it down.
Underground, overground, I still hold it down.
Go around town tappin shoulders.
Ask them if they cold, hand them my blazer. The fact is I'm a loner.
That's not alone when watching the old freeze.
Drop to my knees askin the golden overseers to hold me.
They all so frozen in they seat playing Wii, they don't even know how to reach.
Tell all you stone cold soldiers "Hold a meat".
Prayin for Soulja Boy. Do not let them withold your speech.
I know what he REALLY means. Him and his silly dreams.
A swag rapper with knowledge about the Philippines.
But let me chill tho.
In this game of dildos, I'm a real pole.
If I don't, I will know.
I kill the mic, make the thrill fold.
Go from bad to dangerous and I still can't be known.
In the sense of stability, my lyricism has me chillin and grinnin at the men and women in the street.
And the men and women on the beat.
Not stopped by one cop. Smokin a philly on my feet.
One last bottle of Mountain Dew in my system.
About to prove than I can move honest and true throughout the system.
Songha, post this.
The knowledge of your mama when diabetic diagnosis.
But ain't shit sweet.
Not a lame pipsqueak.
My name in the streets means my name in the streets.
I refuse to bleed.
I came here to speak.
And lame's fear me like my name is a disease.
Those that are infected, I hope you can respect it.
Prognosis gettin quoted in a second.
I put out enough dope to put pharmacuticals out of busniess in any second.
So I can handle just about any message.
Just stay loyal to me.
I'm in the same lane.
In this name game, I am the antonym of pain.
But in order for that to be the case, I must be a basket case and lead this rat race...