Thanks to Shadowville Productions for the beat

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[Verse 1]

Guess who's back in the place-again,
If you wanna stay the same, better protect your face-my-friend,
F*** Freddy and Hollywood, this is your worst nightmare,
If punches can be dirty, then I surely don't fight-fair,
I just might-care about your weak-skill,
And I just might have some mercy not to go for another sick-kill,
I'm the real Godfather, forget Robert-De-Niro,
My style so rich, it seems like I'm robbin'-deniro,
Shinin' like the next-sun, you're messin' with the best-one,
We all go to hell, and this here is your test-son,
The rap game is circus, and it's time-clowns,
Tell me, who else be slammin' these double rhymes-down,
Like me, f*** the game, 'cause I'm makin'-the-rules,
It gettin' similar to an empty classroom, 'cause I'm hatin-these-fools,
Your rhymes mean the life to you, so call-me-God,
I'm eternal, so don't wonder if I'll ever fall-or-not.

[Chorus 2x]

Can't leave rap alone…
Can't leave rap alone…
Can't leave rap alone…
The game needs me…

[Verse 2]

I'm really fed up, with those wannabe-critics,
With comments like that, come on man, they gotta-be-kidding,
They funny, talkin' so much about-makin'-hits,
Now come on, make a decent comment without-eatin'-shit,
Just tell me, when's the last time you wrote a nice-rhyme,
You practicly never wrote nothin' in your whole lifetime,
You made one song, and you've been here-for-years,
Rhymes from a notebook, which you kept near-for-years,
And it's not even yours, ''Eminem'' written all over-it,
High as f*** on ego, but used to dickride on my older-shit,
You know who you are, this ain't no f***in-sublime,
Caught in 2 Pac era, you look like you stuck-in-time,
Back to the future, sorry if I insulted-anybody,
If words were weapons, this would resulted-in-dead-bodies,
I maybe ain't the one, but I sure am good-and-nasty,
If they made an album, it wouldn't go even wood-or-plastic.




[Chorus 2x]

Can't leave rap alone…
Can't leave rap alone…
Can't leave rap alone…
The game needs me…

[Verse 3]

Started rappin' when I was only fourteen years-old,
Soul and flame still here, but most definetly the fear-is-sold,
My skill is unique, like hockey players full-smile,
I'm teaching and teasin' these dumbf***s, straight school-style,
Ain't nothin' personal here, I'm just havin'-some-fun,
It feels like being in church and stabbin'-a-nune,
Runnin' a race, in which there is no competition,
Love me or hate me, that can't be a hard-decision,
You can spit on this, but you remain a nobody, you-see,
If rap was martial arts, I'd be schoolin' Bruce-lee,
More dangerous to these bi***es, than Eazy-e's-dick,
You threwin all your work away, if you dissin-me-prick,
F*** it, this style suits me, I can't get out-of-my-skin,
Just like a killer, with guilty conscience, but without-a-sin,
Got the talent, to make big and strong-accomplishments,
Just a bit unfortunate, born on the wrong-continent.


[Chorus 3x]
Can't leave rap alone…
Can't leave rap alone…
Can't leave rap alone…
The game needs me…