One little, two little, three little indie rap Headphones, backpack, watch 'em all... It goes watch out!
Jack the Ripper, Jack Jack the Ripper Peace to Jack tripper and those Wellstone bumper stickers My name is Sean and I never had dreadlocks Instead I got an army full of women screaming Headshots! I guess that explains it, don't it She started to make a mark but it came apart That's what you get for tryin' to make your little sister eat the kitty litter Let's watch a rapper get bitter like the city winter What the fuck you thinkin'!? You frustrated or something? Did you have a bad week? Man, you got issues, I feel sorry for you Yo, shitting on me is so 2002 (Bitch!) Turn your mic off, and turn the lights off Whoever put your record out must have needed write-offs Who they play when the game's in a tight spot? Slug, you can find me in the A's of your iPod
[Chorus] Watch out! When the crowd gets loud It could burn up the roof or make the walls all fall down Watch out! When you open up your mouth I can smell that you don't know what you're talking about (It goes) Watch out! We all love a clown But we don't wanna see you climb up out the underground Watch out! If you don't like the sound Fuck you! I'm just tryin' to put it down for my home town
Cars drive by with the booming system I must be getting old cause the bass sounds ridiculous And nowadays, every body's biting Tupac So fuck it, I'ma stand over here and do the moonwalk Besides police, I've got no beef Just me, my beliefs and my bad teeth A cargo van and some Ant beets Enough rap to slap you to last week Caught between the vice and the advice Drunk, walking out in traffic just to fly kites Time out, the free-style rhyme out, my last rights Fuck a classic album, give my life 5 mics And when the smoke clears, you won't be able to suck dick Like you did as a teenage slut trick And with a mat on his grill, he asks "Who the fuck are you?" Don't worry man, someday I'ma be nobody too
[Chorus]
Look, I understand your hate When I was younger, I wanted to be LL Cool J Then he started making records for the girls and shit So I ripped up the Kangol and threw it away I stole moves from KRS-One A little Big Daddy Cane and some DJ Run And then we took our life and made it a song And look, nowadays Rhymesayers is on It's the B-I-G D-A double D-Y S-E-A-N He hasn't hit the rooftop to jump, guess he waitin'? For what? I don't know, but who wanna come with me? I got at least one more tool with me So criticize me, or idolize me Study from a distance or stand right beside me It don't matter, just act like I know And watch your back on the beat Or get sacked at the free-throw