[Chorus] Keep tryna keep it real by keepin' it raw While half of y'all still be keepin' it flaw And all the real heads scream "FUCK HIP HOP!" Until this mediocre bullshit stops Drug fiends let me show you the route Who's that motherfucker still keepin the dope in the house? It's Mota mouth (who?), it's Mota mouth baby, it's Mota mouth
[Verse 1] Whenever I write, I put myself out of place from other cats So it don't sound like another brother's rap I smother tracks with raw shit, niggas aren't able to bite What I bring to the table is height Then I easily superceed, niggas need what I got Reason I'm hot, there's no other raw season of pot While most motherfuckers follow the guidelines and hit by 101 Jakki the Mota mouth decides to have fun Not following rules, swallowing crews Son I toss cats off the stage, often I slay their soft raps To all you fake dictionary emcees, get off that Half of y'all don't understand your own rhymes and soft batch(?) They straight at open mics, we put them out on the street Take away their dope beat, let 'em rhyme and they weak And the mic can be a decieving device Muffle your rhymes so they ain't clear and concise Have niggas thinking you nice With battle I'll crack all your gear and all your wack raps You can't be saved by your babbling or your backpack Doing it for the love is great but you fake And putting your shit out is a mistake nobody wants to make
[Chorus]
[Verse 2] Hate when I go to open mics and I see everybody clapping For some clown they don't understand Yet everybody acting like he dope because they believe he's hip-hop Y'all convincing me that most of y'all are brainwashed Dug(?) in old hip-hop history Some cats are crap without their tracks 'cause they weak I wish a nigga would say he listen to me for the beats Some got the nerve to say they dope when they spit When even they family got a tape and they won't open the shit I got a big mouth and I ain't scared to use it One person's keystyle(?) allows everyone to abuse it