[Hook: Rugged Intellect]
This is the biters block
A place where amateur rappers
Can start to mimic their favorites to get a slice of props
In '86 these cats would probably die
But everybody wanna bite since 50 trying to be Ja
[Verse 1: Rugged Intellect]
I'm sick of haters, my flow is colder than refrigerators
Half these kids are brainless and famous for being imitators
They say that Big's the greatest; I ricochet, then rip the base
And liberated the basis for all the innovators
From Loon to The Realest, these fools are the biggest of biters
They've proven their lyrics are stupid like b**hes in diapers
Like Shyne and Diddy, for biting Biggie is quite a pity
All these guys are biddies like Janet and try to hide their titty's
They play the part to be sloppy, these guys are carbon copies
I'm calling out these impostors who's got the heart to stop me
Just gimme a gun, it's risky to run
People say my flow's equivalent to Biggie and Pun
But I'mma pay homage, I stay honest cause I'm Bravehearted
Plus my favorite song's by the artist they call the Nastradamus
You imitators disintegrated, your tricks are dated
Plus your b**hy favours are planted to being liquidated
[Hook]
[Verse 2: Rugged Intellect]
Yeah, this is the biters block, a place where amateur rappers
Can start to mimic their favorites to get a slice of props
Please shorty, you freaks bore me with each story
Not to disrespect but you're sounding wacker than E-40
I'm sick and tired of liars that got their sh** from others
Unoriginal dick s**ers, they make me laugh like I'm Chris Tucker
Silly rapping like Young Hov
Word to Angelous, Bathgate and all them punk hoes
The Game's an*lysis, lyrics hateful as Canibus
And everybody know Lloyd Banks' faker than Fabolous
These wack attackers should be laid in stretchers
Cause you know they got their styles from Mason Betha
You chasing cheddar? Make sure all of your sh**'s right
Stop your dick riding and practice to get your spit tight
And maybe one day cats will look up to you
Telling you how they're loving you and bite you the way a s**er do
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Rugged Intellect]
They say: imitation is the best form of flattery
If Pun was alive, would he flip and get at me?
Would he, call me a biter, tell me to get my own style?
Would he say my flow's off the hook like a phone dial?
What if Pac never died, where would X be?
Probably in the darkest of gutters with al the dead beats
Rappers got their own steeze but they bit it
Better quit it, quit it, lyrics predicted to flip digits
Sick stitches, you're not the coming of Christ
Talk about the guns and the price, the funds and the ice
You best to be original, if you were striving to blow up
Then take your wack a** home and make your own stuff
Nobody likes a piece of sh** that'll bite people
Who's selling white's evil and might lead you to swipe needles
So here's a piece of advice, I hope you listen to it
Never duplicate, if you try to make it, just keep it stupid
[Hook]