God damn (Eyedea), this is some serious gourmet sh**! What flavor is this?
Knock it off, Julie, I don't need you to tell me how f**ing good my music is okay? I'm the one who makes it. I know how good it is. When y'all go to the studio, you make sh**! I make the gourmet quality stuff because when I listen to it, I like to hear it. But you know what's on my mind right now?
...What?
Yo, I'm sick of all you stupid motherf**ers talkin' sh** about my man, Eyedea. Matter of fact, if I catch you sayin' any stupid sh** like that around me, I'ma punch a motherf**in' hole in your head! Talkin' 'bout, Eyedea this, Eyedea that, get off his dick! And to all y'all critics talkin' sh**, you can eat a dick too, you punk 2 b**hez.
You got balls steppin' up to what you saying to me.
I'm probably your favorite MC's favorite MC,
So let these lyrics infuriate your head
And tear you a thread of my inferiority complex,
Delirium content, please hear when my mouth sets
To tear you into shreds and put your arrogance in its d**h,
It's your best bet to quit laughing,
Unless you're good at dodging bullets.
Ain't sh** gonna happen til you shut your trap and learn to focus.
Open that overgrown head for a change
And don't underestimate me in a battle I don't play.
I rip every kid in your clique in five, less than four bars
I'll take this out to east and west,
Don't test the north star!
Oh are you pissed 'cause your talent ain't felt?
Well, just talkin' sh**'s easy, I challenge myself.
If you were really dope, you wouldn't say it all the time,
You would be creative and I'd see it in your rhymes.
You got the nerve to say I'm soft, 'cause the thoughts that I talk
But I think that you're lost, why don't you go take a walk?
And find someone who cares how diggity your style is,
Now quit bein' childish!
Shake my hand and smile b**h!
What gave you the right to have an ego?
You got no sk**s! It's obvious an MC's what you're tryin' to be.
Well if it gets out of hand, my man, just remember,
I'll always be around to remind you you're weak!
Rhymesayers Entertainment, you know we be the greatest
With the break and the paints, the cuts, the rhymes and the beats!
Homebase is Minneap, come on through! And bring your crew
Next time you need to be reminded you're weak!
Peep this!
...
Eyo, look at that Eyedea kid…
I don't even know, man.
Yo, that sh** he did on the Blaze Battle was kiiinda tight!
Yeah, yeah no doubt, but his album's kind of weird!
I know man, he ain't never gonna get a record deal soundin' like that!
True dat…
...
Check me out now!
I'm that kid, who never gave a f** about a contract,
If you need to make a buck, get loose,
Rock the mic, but don't be dumb and come and test me,
'cause we jockin' like the get-paid bus, swinging from my testes.
Inch-by-inch I grow less convinced by those quote-on-quote
Battle rappers that think they're in the triple-leagues.
Recently I took their title and I never gave it back,
How come my weakest freestyle probably beats they best-written rap?
They doubt it, and then they call me out about it
And I flew off in these topics, I win, and the crowd shouted
And you can say the same but you kid,
Beat, lines are skin-deep simply when you wimps become turned into mince meat.
But bein' fresh is only half of the job,
There's a lot in this world that needs to be changed
And so I write each song with a message for humanity
And it expresses the wisdom expressed that's in my brain,
Complainin'? No. Just drainin' pus before the cyst pops,
Boy, you player hate, I'm tryna elevate this hip hop!
So stop tryin' to pretend you're real,
And go write a song someone besides your friends can feel! For real!
Sometimes you just gotta let 'em know!
Most of these MCs don't even deserve to be on a dick like they do…and that's the truth.
So a masochist comes up to me and says, "I like your record, sh** was hot!"