{Chorus}
Keep tryin' to keep it real by keepin' it raw
While half of y'all still be keepin' it flaw
And all the real heads scream 'f** hip hop!'
Until this mediocre bullsh** stops
Drug fiends let me show you the route
Who's that motherf**er still keepin the dope in the house?
It's Mota mouth. who? it's Mota mouth baby, it's Mota mouth
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 sh**, n***as aren't able to bite
What I bring to the table is height
Then I easily superceed, n***as need what I got
Reason I'm hot, there's no other raw season of pot
While most motherf**ers 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 MCs, 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 n***as 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 sh** out is a mistake nobody wants to make
{chorus}
Keep tryin' to keep it real by keepin' it raw
While half of y'all still be keepin' it flaw
And all the real heads scream 'f** hip hop!'
Until this mediocre bullsh** stops
Drug fiends let me show you the route
Who's that motherf**er still keepin the dope in the house?
It's Mota mouth. who? it's Mota mouth baby, it's Mota mouth
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 n***a 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 sh**
I got a big mouth and I ain't scared to use it
One person's key style allows everyone to abuse it
So what the f**k is your definition of underground?
Depressing beats and bleak cats who love the sound
Well I ain't part of that, I'm tired of rapper's garbage
I'm the part of the underground who only feels the raw sh**
And I can take a n***a out regardless
You can bring your hardest artists and I'll make 'em heartless
Some say they lyrically this, or lyrically that
Throwing lyrical in every rap and they lyrically wack
And many cats rhyme over tracks nobody fiends for
Don't f** around with me, if you can only f** with keyboards
Just 'cause lazy n***as use recognisable material
Don't mean the dope samples are not original
'Cause a producer with sk** can lace tracks
Keyboard beats aren't that original, lets face facts
That sh** was overused in the G-funk era
Don't give me that excuse, real MCs want better
You rhyme over enough sh**, most get away with murder
Like kids who think they words rhyme 'cause they the suffix
Must b**h n***as be fragile with facts
You bragging 'bout who you battled, but who you battled was crap
What you angry for, and acting all tense
If you innocent be cool, only the guilty's catching offense
{chorus}
Keep tryin' to keep it real by keepin' it raw
While half of y'all still be keepin' it flaw
And all the real heads scream 'f** hip hop!'
Until this mediocre bullsh** stops
Drug fiends let me show you the route
Who's that motherf**er still keepin the dope in the house?
It's Mota mouth. who? it's Mota mouth baby, it's Mota mouth