Lunar C - SBTV F64 Part 2 lyrics

[Beat - DJ Premier] [Verse 1 - Lunar C] Yo, Lunar C Flytippers F64, big up SBTV Yo They say these rappers can't battle and these battlers are sh** On tracks, if that's true I'm the exception to the rule You're a one trick pony like [Uri Geller] with his spoon b**h I'm Dynamo minds are blown by everything I do I'm not selling myself short like a midget hooker I tell these record labels straight this is my time UK rappers ain't aiming their sights high They think their net worth is what they pay for their wi-fi Some of you probably think that I'm a piece of sh** Because I came from the bottom like a piece of sh** But if you wanna judge people by appearances And you're talking diarrhea you can die or eat a dick Back at it like crack addicts havin' a relapse Real rap I never water it down Everybody knows my name from the north to the south So I don't give a flying f** if you the talk of the town Look, hard headed with a stone cold heart They wonder how a dumb stoner got so far I blame half my success on doing what I need to do The other fifty percent is down to not being you Nah I'm playing, I haven't even made it yet But I've got my opposition wishin' that I'd take a rest They're tryna play it down and actin' all hard But deep down they're flappin' like Macklemore's arms I'm on a rampage no MC is exempt From my k**ing spree I be seein' all their feeble attempts These dudes try to get a deal for years and when they get it They drop 3 songs and you never see 'em again Lunar C reporting live from the loony bin They threw me in a padded room for trying to abuse my shrink Every time we speak I try to get her nude And then ask her to lift her legs in the air like I'm hoovering The best out, you been asleep if you disagree Some of you just can't admit defeat I e-mail dick pics to your girl so I don't clog up her Twitter feed Call me Quagmire because I gave her a giggadee Making my decision based on intuition I don't beg nobody's pardon or wait for their permission I'm on my own thing f** changin' just to fit in With the rest of you I'm tryna beat the game into submission If this isn't about bars it's pointless I'm bored of hearing about the sh** that you got Compared to me you're blatantly sh** like brown marks on my toilet And that's exactly why I'm pissin' you off Back when we shared beats with each other on Bluetooth I tried to make my first CD but it was too soon Now I got that sk** you only see once in a blue moon Flip the heirarchy I'm the leader of the new school We ain't what you're used to I've been a little cuckoo Ever since my babysitter put my pee-pee in her poop chute Your boy's nasty like a geezer in a tutu Or two girls with a plastic beaker full of doodoo b**hes fight over the stiffy cause the flow's ill sh** is so real, I got big with no deal Wrappin' zuggies in the whip until it's smoke-filled The Rizlas are silver like the head on Phillip Schofield Getting circled like the 8 on a black ball I'm winnin' now so I'm the one they hate on or black-ball Get out my way if you ain't got no money for me you need to budge it Pin pricks in my Johnny I'm tryna be productive Got it covered like clits on BabeStation Know your place even my throwaways are game-changin' Lame tapes but they'll never be this deep Good Times And Dead Brain Cells, September the sixteenth! BUH!