[Verse 1:]
Picture me tryin' to prove myself
Like I'm convinced a shot of vodka would improve my health
Or move my wealth to seven-hundred-and-four figures
Got more n***as tryin' to hate on my flow than Rah Digga
Bigger balls than last year, I'm co*ky as ever
And more fly than a box of Czechoslovakian sweaters
When I hop in the Jetta
I put my CD on blast
If you don't like me n***a f** you, kiss my a**
I ain't got nothin' to prove, so you can beat it
n***as heated when I breathe on the mic, I'm so conceited
I give a sh** if you don't like what I'm rappin'
Go back to your rims, your grills, your pills, your ice and your trappin'
Y'all ignorant n***as, y'all need help
Don't you know my track record? Man it speaks for itself
I kept the best beats for myself
My instrumentals out of reach on the shelf
You can't touch me
[Chorus: x2]
I don't need to prove myself
I don't need to prove myself
[Verse 2:]
How many times must I tell ya?
Catering to everyone turns you to a failure
That's why I don't get mad when they say that I'm wack
Or hate on my tracks, talkin' all that sh** in my ear, yeah
Get off my dick and tell your b**h to come here
The first cat to drop an album and get rich in one year
Got more status in my pinky than Patricia Romer'
In her whole career
Charismatic with a capital K
The Smooth Kriminal is back to put the wackness to shame
It didn't have to happen this way
But I got sick of n***as rappin' the same
You need practice mayne
I'm in a cla** of my own
The rap game's George Thorogood, I'm +Bad To The Bone+
I'm glad to be home, quit talkin' all that trash on the phone
Don't call me with that bullsh**, you can rap to the tone
Holla
[Chorus x2]
[Verse 3:]
I give a f** who you battled against
Underground/mainstream, yo I straddle the fence
When I step up to the mic, all the kids say "wow"
I'll bet you're probably gonna want me on your mixtape now
It's great how a dude tries to do his own thing
Tries to spread his own wings then a diss breaks out
First album that I dropped was a cla**ic
Took it to the radio and then they tried to trash it
Callin' me a lame but really I'm the last sick
n***a with a habit of kickin' n***as a**es quick
And I don't really give a f** about who's tough
You'd figure that the lyrics that I'm spittin' would be proof enough
But no; if I ain't talkin' 'bout 'caine-sniffin'
Wood grain-grippin', lane-switchin', bangin' the fifth
Then I ain't really sayin' sh** or D. Swain is a b**h
But I ain't changin' what I spit until D. Swain is richer than you
The f** I gotta listen to you for?
You n***as swear you're too hardcore, I'm havin' fun with this sh**
[Chorus x2]