Intro They say it's crowded at the bottom n whatever u do You always gotta watch motherfuckers around you Nobody is invincible,no plan is full proof We all must meet our moment of truth
Verse It's funny how the game shifted n lames get uplifted/ We Invest time in beats but never in the pen,oh well,these are the days of our lives / Third eye got a grip on the game,devour non believers n make believers forsake the Jahs n the Allahs So I'm airing this one out to the last believers They couldn't scratch us off the surface of the planet Coz Real heads never die we just multiply n dominate Let Russell know we the type of cats that blaze hella joints,even the Def(deaf) get caught in our jams N we just getting our dreams by dropping G.O.O.D. MUSIC Let Mr West know we dwell in the East Real lyricists,individuals of peace Only war we wage is against beats n fake MCs We the type of cats to slap an actor/ Smack a sucker with a hard rap/ Hit them from the back on the creep no Frank Ocean/ Hard knockers,bass line slappers this here strictly for my school of hard knockers/ Hustlers n yack guzzlers/ We Discard Amateurs/ Pros at this,type to do it in our sleep/ The most Slept on so Im guessing this is that inception/ Give it to them raw,squash that rubber talk/ Scorch suckers like acid or gonnorrhoea/ Thick butts n double Cs our only Achilles / Doe before whores tho,type to never go against the grain/ Type to step in the stu n let go projectiles,aim them at ur skull/ Yo wig bound to get split,so pop a chill pill bro/ I never served fiends,but always deliver dope/ K Town general,a veteran Nice with it no doubt so what's all the doubt about? I'm the one y'all should fuss about for bringing the real back Tell them fakes they times up Coz real rap ain't back,it never left everybody just getting back to real rap You suckers couldn't show n prove so bust a move Get in the groove or get tossed towards the tunnel of domb by these ragged tunes We got cooked up plus we serve them raw like japanese food Now that's that Benihana Jolnz forever been a scorching rhymer I pack more heat than Lebanese summers N bomb like Osamas I ain't with the drama N the swag talk save it for the twitters n the tumblrs The bloggers n your followers Y'all ammeters lack skills like a runway model that couldn't walk in heels N like stand up comedians in wheelchairs your whole catalogue is a lame joke
Break You shall know the truth n the truth shall set u free
Verse 2 Ima leave u exposed like a radiology report Y'all lack knowledge n bound for defeat u couldn't go toe to toe against J O I got the co ordinates to your whereabouts So in case we gotta find you we know where y'all at So quit all that Chitting n the chatting n get to rapping Or better yet tap dancing Coz u couldn't handle the full wrath of my Arsenal You ain't even in my division N Couldn't dwell in my region I got the full backing of an audience that barely understands me Thats how much respect a style like mine demand Ain't an MC that my style couldn't command We the cats that your top five idolize n the critics critically criticize but couldn't fully analyze Faults they couldn't find I'm too nice Toss my enemies towards hell as I strive to excel N Make the cover of double XL Coz what started out as a mere hobby grew to define my whole persona n character So assassinate me not my character downplay me all u like but all I ask is for y'all to sit down n actually listen Prepare to hold your lower jaw up as its bound to get dropped Then tell me if hip hop really died Show me the proof n where exactly is the autopsy The death certificate n whose signature is on it Then after this joint I'm going after them for displaying such outrageo