(Intro—Verse 1)
I lit myself on fire with the propane that I found/
Now God inspires me, so I'm not profane but profound/
You say you strong, it won't be enough, you built like a truck? /
HA! you ain't King of the city, you built Robbie Ford Tough/
Man, you should just stay far/ time you wish upon a Gangstarr/
I'm really really sorry this is just the way thangs are/
Boys going thrift shopping for vintage Macklemore gimmicks/
sh**, I went to Goodwill, Sally ann, Value Village/
Cause I lived it/ Expected this resilience/ but not the brilliance/
Of this magnificence / Where everything I spill has been this ill since/
You threw up all your gang signs/
But then like Jerry, your Seinfeld when you saw that I came by/
(Hook) (Space Jam Ref.)
If I hit 'em high, hit 'em high, hit 'em high
And you hit 'em low, hit 'em low, hit 'em low
If I hit 'em high, hit 'em high, hit 'em high
And you hit 'em low, hit 'em low, hit 'em low
(Verse 2)
Before I rhyme I stick my d*** in coke/ then I'll be effing dope/
You lyrical? Hardly/ you want beef think Arby's/
I don't smoke dope/ “I ain't no joke”/ tanned in the light of genius
Got a stroke/ Pokémon, I'm a monster/ One peek at
You I conquer/ I'll leave you to God/ brain's on the track
I don't even lose my train of thought/ I'm not/ using words/
I'm making syllables curve/ and Swerve/ to my mind's urge/
So I don't even wanna give others a turn/ My God! /
When I hit you, you'll be clock-a-Snitch-a-phobic/ you compensating
Constipated, you talk-a-lot-of-sh** but hold it/
Snuff these wanna-bes, I'll do it Wal-Mart Style/
Cause I'll run them over, then I'll Rollback with a smile/
So you gotta choose with The Blueprint, Jay-Z or KRS? /
2Pac's back as a fat a** or 2Pac never left /
The Industry won't ever stop seducing'em/ just treat
These Maybach rappers like pennies, just stop producing'em/
And there's no such thing as a Che Guervara with bling on/
Jay-Z mogul talk to streets sounds to me like klingon/
I may talk over your heads, but never behind your backs/
Straight talking/ no gossip/ this a ‘lemme remind you' rap /
They say I'm way too intellectual on my rap tracks/
But I'm back/ so all of y'all can just kiss my big abstract/
An oracle can't be lyrical, gotta be kidding/
Really?/ This verse like New York in 98', no Biggie/
(Hook) (X2)
(Outro—Verse 3)
I k** boys/ with a filled Hilroy/ make them still noise/ cricket/
Take the g outta their grill, then all they got's a real choice/
Spit it/ more dreaded than Rastas/ even with a buzz cut/
Feet on the ground/ head in the clouds/ just to tell you what's up/
See you're the B-grade movie, I wouldn't even torrent/
The artsy fartsy snarky flick, that's too God damn boring/
We traded Pokemon cards, now it's YouTube videos/
It ain't that different, it's all just too really silly yo/
Got our Fantasy MC team, mixing up our roster/
When we should all just really be, fixing up our posture/
I got Words for War, coming straight out my pocket/ but I'm
A pacifist, who won't pa** a fist, cause that's my logic/
What would happen, if you took all the B-rabbit battle rappers/
Put'em in the library instead of strapping? /
Cause you could rap ‘Fertility lyrically, the d*** of
Noah Webster/ Gamble on strippers, but no one's bet her (better)'/
But you're the only one who cares, cause you running from what
You fear the most/ that they'll see your tears behind all your boasts/
So here's a quote/ you make a living by what you earn/
But you make a life by what you give, so you should really learn/
Your arrogance, swag, and all your bullsh** self-accolades/
Won't matter a bull's sh**, when you drift, melt and pa** away/
Cause boasting won't get you your respect or pay your mortgage/
Cause Out of everyone, you are not the most important/