Heath Cottengim - Pronunciation lyrics

[Intro: Thug & Heath Cottengim] Ayy we run this Please take your seat Mr. Thug You ain't got nothing on us OK cla** today's lesson is about pronunciation, many of you have taken advantage of slurring your words on your tracks recently. That ends here [Verse 1: Heath Cottengim] Whether you're rapping 'bout the struggle, girl trouble, or something humble double check you don't wreck your message by mumbling something Nothing's worse than writing out a verse, that's sure to be superb delivered with no clarity How is it you guys have popularity? Cuz I don't think you rappers are meeting the job's description If a person can't get the meaning without decryption And I don't mean the rhetoric, I mean like, Is he speaking English? Is he being serious? Is the whole album like this? Missy may have got away with pulling that reverse sh**. But That don't mean you can abuse ProTools in lieu of putting work in Muhammad Ali suffered brain damage from being hit hard Yet remained sharp whenever he spat bars, so y'all can't play that card It seems you so-called artists get your lyrics off the clearance rack I'm fearing that no one can bring coherence back to rap. And it Doesn't have to be me, but it'd be pretty easy to take a bunch of rapper misfits, fixed their bad habits 'til they could spit in a way that's articulate Turn those bruhs into brothers, hoes into lovers, never Mutter another word, let every syllable be heard As far as I'm concerned there is no alternative Lifestyle deserves to serve the same way C-Murder did [Bridge 1: Thug & Heath Cottengim] Yo this is bullsh** Have a seat Mr. Thug, I was in the middle of giving a lesson... Yo you don't know nothing about the flow Alright, well let's hear what you have to say about the subject Yo listen [Hook: Thug] I ain't gotta sing your way, I can lay it On ‘em and they gon love me anyway, cuz my sh** comes From the soul. You just mad you on the Bottom of the totem pole. Real gangsta sh** is Permanent, you can't correct this. I Ain't gonna take your disrespect so check your privilege Your laws a mirage, check your vision If imma make change, it'll be my decision [Verse 2: Heath Cottengim & Thug] Mr. Thug, I can see my argument has made you upset, but I have no idea what the f** you just said? Your consonant incompetence causes the hypothesis that you'll go from popular to anonymous faster than the name Christopher Wallace Warning, there's no quick fix for learning to enunciate Vowel sounds all scrambled, now that's a mixtape You say you rock unique sound, how ambitious. When they Hear you downtown, they gon' be looking like scared ostriches Your talent's a myth, You swung and you missed, you're off the playlist Stop throwing your fists and start pleading the fifth Career's going down like a sunset at the south pole. Pitch Black, gonna grow old, waiting for it to come back, but it won't show Don't you see, I'm trying to help you reach your full potential Kiss my a** Ugh you're not paying attention Gangsters gotta act tough or be an easy target, I get it But it sounds like your tongue has already been hit with an anesthetic See how far you get without my correction, Sound like a Bunch of broken clarinets, call you the wouldn't win section Blame it on Quan, blame it on Panda, But don't blame Atlanta Cuz we know Gambino and Outkast pa**ed the test Old School, New School whatever you like. Just don't Support the dopes who dropped out who think they can drop the mic Y'all might want a fight, I ain't scared of ya, I'll take care of ya I'm prepared to repair this man's impaired Wernicke's area [Bridge 2: Thug & Heath Cottengim] You're wack man And why do you say that No one knows what the f** you're saying I would say the same thing about you but I exalt the rap game and challenge its listeners You a**ault them and fault them and scare off its visitors Nah cuz [Hook: Thug] I ain't gotta sing your way, I can lay it On ‘em and they gon love me anyway, cuz my sh** comes From the soul___You just mad you on the Bottom of the totem pole. Real gangsta sh** is Permanent, you can't correct this. I Ain't gonna take your disrespect so check your privilege Your laws a mirage, check your vision If imma make change, it'll be my decision [Verse 3: Heath Cottengim] Ya know, maybe I'm going about this all wrong. You haven't Learned anything and we're nearing the end of the song. Maybe there's a bigger issue, maybe some scholar inequality's Stopping me from construing what you're doing, Maybe you're just fluent in a language I can't comprehend and I've been against your expression condemning your ascension like Pontius Pilate violently Bashing your pa**ion as a fraction of energy neces Sary to carry any clever rhythm and witticism Maybe it's the industry deserving some criticism A business built on mimicked gimmicks seems like a flawed system Letting quacks hijack the track, make a mockery Used to be a kingdom, now we have a kakistocracy Maybe we lost our appetite, sacrificed it like a martyr Forgot our start, put progress on the back burner Captain Turner turn this ship around before you start a war Too late, we've reached the genre's final course [Hook: Heath Cottengim] You don't have to sing my way, You can lay it On ‘em and they gon love you anyway, cuz your sh** is Genuine. I'm just mad you get away With no discipline. Real gangsta sh** is Here to stay. I can't replace it. But you can't Stop me from growing my style adjacent Your game is the same, Keep your tradition If there's gonna be change, it'll be my decision