Matlock - Infinity F.U.'s lyrics

Yeah, you too mothaf**a Yeah, to the whole rap game: f** you! (f** you!) Cats showing no shame, so f** you! (f** you!) Man if you gotta use my name, to get yourself a little fame Then you're a loser anyway, f** you! (f** you!) That Morty Gold sh**'s weak, f** you! (f** you!) Even the old sh**'s sweat, so f** you! (f** you!) And Granite grows gritty beats, while the whole city sleeps So if you're just waking up, then f** you! (f** you!) Eyyo, remember when you showed love, before you had a big mouth When you were just a noname, before you put your sh** out Before you went to b**h rap, before the dough got ya And turned hiphop into a f**ing soap opera More and more drama, I've been tripping all week Because these kids all think that their sh** don't stink Chill, don't speak, you ain't signing autographs Y'all should be slanging tapes, out a f**ing garbage bag Hardest ever f*g on a track acting phoney You made a rap record and wanted to act like you know me You want me to do a cut with you, chill and smoke a blunt with you And be my little buckaroo, but I don't even f** with you And it ain't nothing new, you dance for a docket And you all playahate each other like lobsters in a bucket, f** it! And to my peers, I just wanna hear flows, it appeal to my ears But nobody hears close, you wanna hear it, here it goes, f** you! (f** you!) You hiphop-heroes, f** you! (f** you!) You cats with big egos And all you f**ing weirdos, spitting words you can't spell f** you! (f** you!) That's all you'll ever get from me, f** you! (f** you!) Yeah, till infinity, f** you! (f** you!) The Internet, the industry, the radio ain't sh** to me Y'all can all go to hell, f** you (f** you!) Eyyo, I press 500 tapes, gave away a stack of 'em I'm broke but the bootleggers probably went platinum So Morty's coming after them, pissed and disgusted I hope you catch AIDS, I hope you get your sh** busted Stacking no chips, you wonder why I'm so pissed You so rich, and all up in my pockets like a broke b**h Subliminal, it's no diss, f** it then, so is this Two words and both fists I pull cards like "Go Fish", dead on I don't miss Man I can't hold back, rap on your own risk Don't get your dome cracked Man I just won't pack my hard-heard bucks And I didn't cop your new CD, but I heard it s**ed And every spot I go to, it's just the same sh** again Watch whose name you whispering Don't think that I ain't listening, get some recognition Watch your momma start hating, it's the he-say-she-say I refuse to partaken And to the writers start painting, f** you! (f** you!) And till the bomb end in breaking, f** you! (f** you!) And to all you rappers faking, take that money that you're making And go buy yourself a heart, f** you! (f** you!) Yo, what's this beefing all about? f** you! (f** you!) I'm the wrong cat to doubt, f** you! (f** you!) Just put your wack a** album out, and keep my name up out your mouth And everything will be gravy, f** you! (f** you!) Yea yea, you like to pop a lot of crack That's why nobody got your back And you don't even got a gat I hope your a** gets shot for that You got the nerves to wonder why I screw face you fruitcakes You're too fake, and you don't even like that bullsh** you make It's not in your new tape, it's not how you spit (uh-uh) It's all in what you got, and whose dick you s** to get it Your rhymes: despicable, punchlines: predictable Man, any kind of criminal would beat that a** on principle You ain't never been broke, that supposed to be some sick joke? Expecting heads to buy it, when you lie with every pen stroke? I see it in your eyes, I can't help but criticize You ain't no murderer unless you count k**ing eyes And every time you're in my eye, you're caught up in a different lie You bunch of pussies wish I died, but I got bigger fish to fry Too many names a name, but just on vain your one-two Play this song for your crew, and say I'm hating on you But what you're really gonna do, f** you! (f** you!) Every single last one of you, f** you! (f** you!) You always claim you're number one, but you're less than number two In other words you ain't sh**, f** you! (f** you!) You really think you'll match this? f** you! (f** you!) You're a damn actress, f** you! (f** you!) You got a crew full of f*gots, and your heart is Lenny Kravitz And your b**h got dirty feet, f** you! (f** you!) You wanna talk about crime? f** you! (f** you!) You're the type to drop dimes, f** you! (f** you!) And you can copy down my rhymes, and try to read between the lines But it all sums up the f** you! (f** you!) My name is Morty Goldsteen, f** you! (f** you!) I stay up late and don't sleep, f** you! (f** you!) I like to chill and smoke weed, and steal sh** I don't need So when you catch me in your crib, f** you! (f** you!)