Final track to my album, realest track i ever made. this track will school fake rappers. Thanks a lot JR for mixing, thank to S-n tial and Phil aka PJ for the voice clips. It's a lyrical resurrection motherf***ers!
Yeah you know who the fuck this be.
im here to bring this shit back dunny
we gonna try to get that heart rate beeping again
now pay attention, yo
good beats, weak raps, hood beef, peep that
you should see, shits wack, new mc's get clapped
fingers on the trigger for these weak ass cats
we lost the real music n we need that back
peep that track man i teel you what you bought
an album by a faggot who tells you why he's hot
over and over and you think that shit is fly
shits annoying, its the reason y im getting high
producers make that beat for a bunch of mc's
who fake that heat with their fake ass beef
imma break that peace, send you back to the south
come on get angry, thats what rap is about
it aint techno or house, aint playing rock this evening
imma bring it to the days to where pac was breathing
or when eminem came, with caine in his brain
made you feel his pain n brought fame to his name
now its like nobody even know what they talk about
bunch of ten pound somalians tell you to walk it out
grills n rings man its funny what they wear
i got brigther plans than throwing money in the air
change that shit up man
We aint gonna get burried with our grillz n cadilacs.
have some dignity you prideless motherfuckers.
yall better off being poor, at least you was hungry yo.
yall is to pretty, i'm a cat, your a kitty
bunch of skinny oreo cookies like p diddy
tell us that they rich, man all of them snitch
they wack, y u think snoop dog looks like a rat? hahah
they planed to kill pac, man it doesn't look right
from snoopy to puffy to doc dre to shook night
they fingers aint never huggin on triggas
yall dont love to be killas, you bunch of republican niggas
you smoke drugs, you aint dealers
dont get love from gorillaz
im looking for real killas n hundred dollar billaz
truth is there aint none cause rappers write
n biters bite but hey at least the fighters fight
you cocky, listen i hit you cause you evil
i aint one to see money n forget about my people
i aint delores tucker, young jeezy or eddie
im bringing revolution n believe me im ready
anybody can rhyme club with club and rich with bitch.
it takes an mc to write some real shit
You don't ever really see me, invisible lyrical, make you feel steel
i aint dying to get signed man i'm the real deal
fuck it if money ever come before respect
theres more to get, fuck rapping for a check
our mission is to spit it n rip it n kill it
we lyricly did it n win it n dont give a shit if you feel it
I dont rent a bunch of damn cars n "make a video"
give you a bunch of damn scars n "break your silly flow"
cats who back me, dont like no "happy slappy"
candychop fucks doing the laffy taffy
everyday hustlers, have you "seen this shit"?
shoot em all in the chest n make em lean with it
it was about whos lyricly better
not whos financialy richer with the motherfucking criminal chedder
The music is shit n we all yawn together
hip hops dead but is it really gone forever?
imma make hip hop come outta the grave tonight.
all fake faggots are getting executed.
its a lyrical resurrection!!!!!!!!!
fuck a wrist watch, keep it moving like flip flops
im a rapper but dont even listen to hip hop
died in 02, killed by the dirty south
n rappers who talk shit out they girly mouth
did it with passion yo, now its cash n dough
just a bunch of preety boys at a "fashion show"
used say it outta hate n say it outta love
n we didnt give a fuck if they played it in a club
i'm loosing it, aiming big glocks to feds
nas's album proved that hip hop was dead
yo fuck the crips n fuck the reds
bring it back to the days we aint give a fuck what we said
this hip hop games filled with "fine liars"
close down records shops cause we got "lime wire"
untalented cats are becoming "millionaires"
rick ross, jim jones n "chamillionaire"
we claiming we pull shit, its bullshit
talk about your full clip, but dawgy i dont give two shits
ca