C.O'D. - Who's Winning? (Paris Morton Music 2 OD-Mix) lyrics

[Verse 1] I came with the intention to be the greatest to ever do it To be the teacher, turn the rappers you idolize into students You talk about it, I do it. You guessed about it, I knew it Only weak sh** is coming out your mouth and I talk my bullsh** like fluent What I'm doing-I'm on my G-rind You went off the dome once in the time I used to write three rhymes I'm better and the concept's so obvious I'm in the building opposite where the lobby is I'm talking louder on a track than a 'rarri b**h And you ain't saying nothing Point to who the livest is It's C - for cum O - for on emcees D- I give to your girl at the funeral H-O-M-E So she thinks that I'm raunchy I only pounce when it seems you ain't watching And now that goes for p**y rappers reminding me of gazelles If you ain't know before, I'll show you I'll sh** on any rapper up at Double X-L I'll see you in Hell On the rap gods, f** who you tell Y'all like a Jehovah's Witness, we ain't tryna buy what you sell Professional bar dropper, sending n***as to jail [Verse 2] I'm in the best shape of my life in a world surrounded by squares It ain't personal, I only mess with diamonds can you compare? Yeah, just a spitter with a temper, a vendetta too And I've been had you aimed down since I came up out of middle school So smooth with it OD, D-Roch, Marab, we some smooth n***as Coming to tear this genre a new a**hole, f** if you cool with us This joint got me tripping, in fact the room's spinning This rap sh** was never a game to me but who's winning? Y'all are knowing dudes sinning Selling their souls to go gold, this sh** is old news Old crews move out the way for this new sh** Pull up a lawn chair with your retired a** and listen to dude spit Now, bow your heads and pray for the rappers that I just k**ed, b**h [Verse 3] Since beef with you know who, I've stepped my game up What up Tye? I'm on mine, f**ing with me's like stepping on a land mine What up Tye? I'm blowing up, what are you doing? I'm putting out mixtapes, last I checked you were YouTube-ing What up Tye? I ain't dissing, you should relax some In fact, me and you should even go get on a track some (Psych) time My rhymes are like Dr. Seuss And I'm in and out of this booth, I ain't even taking my time What up Tye? Andover sure is dancing now I'm knocking fire verses out, something like Pacquiao This beat and my flow sounds so soothing like a cat's meow I've said all I needed to man I guess that it's past me now It's OD ho don't overdose