[Intro]
Word son. It's like the rap game son it's all f**ed up, nawmean?
Suspect. n***as either frontin' talking that super brick sh**
Nawmean, ever rapper sells bricks now, son?
Or on the other hand you got these soft n***as, son
n***as look like females
It's like there ain't no regular n***as still spittin' son
It's all good though
That's what I'm here for my n***a
[Verse 1: Meyhem Lauren]
Hey yo, divine spit deadly with rhyme sh**
I'm about to change the climate, the people been blinded
I find it suspicious ya'll n***as bustin' fictitious biscuits
Up in magazines talking tough taking pictures
Hold liquors, compose scriptures, yeah that's my steez
n***as never sold 20s but they rap out keys
Your false perpetrating lifestyles of criminals
Ya'll n***as never crush minerals into vials
Multiple styles, open my files and an*lyze
Soak it up speaking the truth ya'll fantasize
True lies spit in disguise about pies
That's your M.O., my observation know what I'm sayin'?
Ya'll paint faulty images that start decayin'
Dismissing all the legends, street sh** that ya'll could pray in
I'm full displayin' the livest lyrics known to man
Sit back and take a swig, my real n***as understand
[Hook]
I ain't feeling these wack rap n***as
They broke as f** talking about they stack mad figures
I ain't f**ing with you lames
Your music ain't hot so you start to drop names
You wack rap n***as
Never held a gun but you known to pull triggers
I ain't f**ing with you lames
Tight pants and shirts, ya'll n***as dressed like dames
[Verse 2]
It's like the lyrical rapper has left the building
n***as is either b**hes or they obsessed with k**ing
And I don't mind that k**er sh** because it's real
But if you gonna talk it let the people know the deal
It's two sides of a coin, you only repping one
That's how I know you n***as ain't talking about sh** you've done
Glorifying d** like yeah I'm selling bricks
But n***as get shot in the face, put behind them sh**s
Or locked up for seven if the feds do a blitz
On the V.I. floor with they ?? double fits
I'm not a hypocrite so go ahead and make your flips
But understand anytime you hustle it's the risk
Young dukes is counterfeits, my lyrics are U.S. mints
Good money, Queens n***as still hungry
I stay on my grime repping the streets
Dropping j**els over beats, you wack rappers just some cheats
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
Then you got the other extreme
These soft wack rappers should model for Maybelline
Rocking tight pants with rhinestones and size small jackets
Thinking that they fresh but they whole style backwards
Claiming that they hip hop and street sh** is played out
Go to any ghetto probably see somebody layed out
How could a reflection of today be outdated
You tight shirt n***as got ga**ed and inflated
Living in your fantasy worlds without crimes
On the streets n***as still sell d** with black nines
Jails is still packed, people still get clapped
And inner city adolescents still don't know how to act
I'm not saying glorify but don't dare deny
What goes on from Californ-i to Bedstuy
I'm tying in the game son, sh** is unacceptable
Go to hell sus, burn out a testicle
Word up, this is Meyhem Lauren n***a
All you soft a** frontin' n***as
Don't even speak to me when you see me, n***a
an*lyze my f**ing resumé, word the f** up
[Hook]
Word up, this is Outdoorsmen n***a
Meyhem Lauren, we don't play that wack sh**
Ain't nobody frontin' on the mic
Ain't nobody dressing like a metros**ual
We don't play those games, respect my swag n***a
I'm a man of such integrity
I'm so stand-up, ya'll n***as could learn something
Word up son, talking all that street sh**
Ya'll n***as never had b**hes sniffing coke off...