[Verse: Dezmatic]
You think this music shouldn't be done this way
We sniff yay off switchblades and drop nothing but fish eggs
These words are supposed to uplift
Not to talk about the strippers who let slit wrists drip
It's all about the people
But people are just puppets with no promised land for them that you can lead to
You want some conscience raps about equality?
But George Bush is gangster and I admire his monopoly
You's a self-described purist
But your record collection just means your identity's purchased
Most of your rap heroes have disappointed you
But would still charge you a G just to do a joint with you
You got a hundred a show, bookin' your own tour
But because you almost famous, you deserve the whole door
You swear you're not a s**er for the fame
But I've talked to blueprints, you just want production for the name
I'm automatically supposed to be a fan of yours
‘Cause one of the tracks on one of your albums one of my mans endorsed
But I just wasn't feelin' it, bro
Except for his verse, he was k**in' it, yo
You wrote that line a year ago
But only pressed 200 CDs at a time, so ain't nobody hearin' you
In your lines, you stuff a trillion syllables
But still can't sufficiently explain why I'm not as ill as you
You never heard of that dude, Nobs
A mistake you'll never forget, like wack tattoo jobs
You never thought the beats should be this simple
You'd rather spend hours tryin' to pull your teeth through your dimples
You think that looping samples isn't relevant
But what do you get when you mix a gymnast with a pelican?
You could see my middle finger in the air
But I could see your girlfriend and all my children in her hair
You thought I couldn't amplify the party
If only I stopped tryin' to disenfranchise the audience
Just then, there's still a knot in your head
That's why you consider a [?] to be the proper etiquette
Gangster is as gangster does
What's really gangster is after you k**ed him, you drank his blood
That shock value sh** doesn't work for you
You prefer these joints to be tear-jerkingly personal
Your ex put you onto Sage Francis
But not every rapper comes from the same [?]
So it's either Stones Throw, Def Jux or RSE
But none of them labels got a artist like me
I'm saying exactly what you thinking, right? Shut up
If life really is a b**h, she's got her panties bunched up
You still waiting for the chorus
And you only came here to see them other fools who played before us
Who's this fat white kid anyway?
When it all boils down to beef like demi-glace
You didn't know the name before but please, I insist
Recognize from here on out, Fingerprint, b**h!