Instrumental:
[video]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QnWY0AOStds[/video]
Check the instrumental, dumbed the lyrics
Down a lil' to fit the beat.
[Phasewon]
I'm losin' my passion for scrappin' now I'm shootin' and stabbin'
Come through with the magnum and blast you in the booth when you rappin'
Any dude who's been jackin' my music and boostin' my album
I'll do a smooth maneuver, reach right through the computer and slap 'em
I'm brutally handsome, but still ruthless as Manson
That's why I got all my troopers salutin' they captain
We move like a faction, and my crew is enhancin'
Shooters with Gatlings, Rugers, Bazookas and cannons
I ain't new to the action, when will you faggots learn?
Don't open a can of worms, if you can't stand the germs
I'ma show you what REAL beef does; I ain't sayin'
I'ma kill these thugs, but there WILL be blood
I ain't sayin' I'm the best, cuzzin'... I'm sayin'
They all sayin' I'm the best, I just say it with the rest of 'em
I ain't sayin' I'm on gangsta shit...
But when it come to drama, momma didn't raise a bitch
I will take a brick to your face and split
The facial skin, cave it in, and break your shit
I ain't sayin' that I glorify violence...
Just because my raps cause horrifyin' border line riots
Morbid rhyme stylist, shoot through the door slide
of your ride, with four or five forty five's firin'
I hope I die smilin', snort a line, piling
So much drugs, I'm fucked up, more than my mind is
Fortified scientist, master craftsman
Slash the captain, rap assassin
Lyrical battle rappin' these days don't stand a chance
Unless you get some flashy pants, and a fuckin' catchy dance
You fags know who you are, rappin' like a star
Fashion, caviar, and your imaginary car
Then there's the "hood rappers" who "live in the projects"
And "sell crack", damn, what an original concept
You rap 'bout pulling gats out and "clappin' a gun"
And a bunch of other shit you've never actually done
While I was masterin' tracks, and battlin' cats
You were scrambling back to school, late for your calculus class
I ain't sayin' I was cool, but that's how I actually act
So I don't have to be a fuckin' actor to rap
And that's in the past, but that's shit I would still do
So when I say I'll kill you, shiiit, I really will too
When I was fourteen, I dropped out of ninth grade
When you were fourteen, you had like five maids
When I was sixteen, I hustled to make cream
You were sixteen, on the fuckin' debate team
When I was eighteen, I was wishin' for knowledge
While both your rich parents paid your tuition for college
By nineteen, I developed a drinking habbit
You were drinking tea, holding up your pinky, faggot!
I ain't have shit, but a roof on my house
You were born with a fuckin' silver spoon in your mouth
So why the fuck am I what you aspire to be?
That's assbackwards, you a mothafuckin' liar to me
Why you rap about guns, when you never owned a strap?
Why you rap about drugs, when you never sold a pack?
You think you a thug? I should slap whoever told you that
I should come to your crib and shoot up your fuckin' culdesac
Holy crap, you use the word "swag"? Now I know you wack
You smokin' crack if you think I buy that poser act
I'm the better rapper, by far, you never mattered
Serve you like a breakfast platter 'cause I don't respect your stature
I wonder why... Wow, you're a rapper?!
So is every other colored guy under twenty five
The difference is, I'm official, so I have to drop
A rhyme to diss you, and get your crew to ride against you
I was doing work before these Internet rappers
I ain't bite no one's style to get ahead faster
Earphones pierced to my head... I studied
Every rhyme and cadence all the greatest lyricists said
My grammar enhanced, practiced different patterns of rap
Plastered a staggerin' matter of drafts to master my craft
Now you bite ME? I'm flattered but you amateur cats
Give my stamina back, before you have an asthma attack
[video]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QnWY0AOStds[/video]
Check the instrumental, dumbed the lyrics
Down a lil' to fit the beat.
[Phasewon]
I'm losin' my passion for scrappin' now I'm shootin' and stabbin'
Come through with the magnum and blast you in the booth when you rappin'
Any dude who's been jackin' my music and boostin' my album
I'll do a smooth maneuver, reach right through the computer and slap 'em
I'm brutally handsome, but still ruthless as Manson
That's why I got all my troopers salutin' they captain
We move like a faction, and my crew is enhancin'
Shooters with Gatlings, Rugers, Bazookas and cannons
I ain't new to the action, when will you faggots learn?
Don't open a can of worms, if you can't stand the germs
I'ma show you what REAL beef does; I ain't sayin'
I'ma kill these thugs, but there WILL be blood
I ain't sayin' I'm the best, cuzzin'... I'm sayin'
They all sayin' I'm the best, I just say it with the rest of 'em
I ain't sayin' I'm on gangsta shit...
But when it come to drama, momma didn't raise a bitch
I will take a brick to your face and split
The facial skin, cave it in, and break your shit
I ain't sayin' that I glorify violence...
Just because my raps cause horrifyin' border line riots
Morbid rhyme stylist, shoot through the door slide
of your ride, with four or five forty five's firin'
I hope I die smilin', snort a line, piling
So much drugs, I'm fucked up, more than my mind is
Fortified scientist, master craftsman
Slash the captain, rap assassin
Lyrical battle rappin' these days don't stand a chance
Unless you get some flashy pants, and a fuckin' catchy dance
You fags know who you are, rappin' like a star
Fashion, caviar, and your imaginary car
Then there's the "hood rappers" who "live in the projects"
And "sell crack", damn, what an original concept
You rap 'bout pulling gats out and "clappin' a gun"
And a bunch of other shit you've never actually done
While I was masterin' tracks, and battlin' cats
You were scrambling back to school, late for your calculus class
I ain't sayin' I was cool, but that's how I actually act
So I don't have to be a fuckin' actor to rap
And that's in the past, but that's shit I would still do
So when I say I'll kill you, shiiit, I really will too
When I was fourteen, I dropped out of ninth grade
When you were fourteen, you had like five maids
When I was sixteen, I hustled to make cream
You were sixteen, on the fuckin' debate team
When I was eighteen, I was wishin' for knowledge
While both your rich parents paid your tuition for college
By nineteen, I developed a drinking habbit
You were drinking tea, holding up your pinky, faggot!
I ain't have shit, but a roof on my house
You were born with a fuckin' silver spoon in your mouth
So why the fuck am I what you aspire to be?
That's assbackwards, you a mothafuckin' liar to me
Why you rap about guns, when you never owned a strap?
Why you rap about drugs, when you never sold a pack?
You think you a thug? I should slap whoever told you that
I should come to your crib and shoot up your fuckin' culdesac
Holy crap, you use the word "swag"? Now I know you wack
You smokin' crack if you think I buy that poser act
I'm the better rapper, by far, you never mattered
Serve you like a breakfast platter 'cause I don't respect your stature
I wonder why... Wow, you're a rapper?!
So is every other colored guy under twenty five
The difference is, I'm official, so I have to drop
A rhyme to diss you, and get your crew to ride against you
I was doing work before these Internet rappers
I ain't bite no one's style to get ahead faster
Earphones pierced to my head... I studied
Every rhyme and cadence all the greatest lyricists said
My grammar enhanced, practiced different patterns of rap
Plastered a staggerin' matter of drafts to master my craft
Now you bite ME? I'm flattered but you amateur cats
Give my stamina back, before you have an asthma attack
[/center]
