Styles P - Just Rhymin' lyrics

[Verse 1: Your Old Droog] Since Four Wings and homemade Icee I been sheisty Holding weight The worst 'round A bad seed like eight facing Golden State first round Drowned in that brown water Still rhyming like I'm holding headphones to the mic on Sound Recorder Like I'm still selling punchlines Eyes red, cutting droogs in the lunch line With krills and a North Face jacket I know this an oxymoron, but y'all are straight f*ggots Nowadays emcees is hardly rhyming They must've got stage fright like Carly Simon You're So Vain, stick the knife in you torso Pain, turn around, feed you Horse Lo Mein Man these who*es are so lame They rock Nirvana shirts in the hood but they don't know c**aine Rappers drop they tape free and walk into these label meetings Singing "Rape me, I'm an escapee, find me a cake" Pity, like Utica, Utica, Utica! Saying rhymes I don't know, or if that theraputica [Hook: Your Old Droog] From ghetto to ghetto To backyard to yard I spit it on soft drums or ones that's hard We just rhyming Rhyming Rhyming Just rhyming From ghetto to ghetto To backyard to yard Marathon bars Who wanna spar with the gods? We just rhyming Rhyming Rhyming Just rhyming [Verse 2: Styles P] Let me get your dying in order My mother and father was probably fire and water I come through the skies, am I wild? Am I wise? Eyes on the window to the soul, no lies I can look in the mirror Might see an extra dude Or my reflection move Turn n***as vegetable I could be ten states away and get next to you It's odd, but it's hard when the gods start blessing you Spookiest, the eeriest, wolf-so I can smell a b**h on her period sh** is dead serious A few ghostwriters An angel and a demon And some lost souls screaming Light the weed cause I'm fiending King in my past life, died for my freedom Am I a [?]? Am I royalty? n***a that's for you to guess Never been to Budapest Everyday's a Buddha fest I ain't hell-real, but n***as know I'm a rubyrep My new Style and Your Old Droog Greeting at Whole Foods You're slow dude, way before ProTools I walked around with a pro tool .38 special, yeah the ghost was so cruel [Hook: Your Old Droog] From ghetto to ghetto To backyard to yard I spit it on soft drums or ones that's hard We just rhyming Rhyming Rhyming Just rhyming From ghetto to ghetto To backyard to yard Marathon bars Who wanna spar with the gods? We just rhyming (we just) Rhyming (we just) Rhyming Just rhyming (turn it up) (Check) [Verse 3: Joey Bada$$] Hold the applause Who wanna spar? I got the rifle on, whenever I rap, that's all Still doing somersaults with my eyelids And even with my eyes closed, can't do what I did Still waking up and asking Lord "Can I live?" They never liked us Want to see us up in Rikers Island Illuminati waant me for my mind, soul and body Only if these n***as knew they feared the wrong posse Mentally disturbed A menace to sobriety Until I leave this Earth A tenant to society And which is even worse? I can see the hearse Parked outside the church, that's my gift and my curse I'm on a mission, keep an op for opposition n***a's trying to stick for the rap position But Joey's never hiding He's ready when you find him My n***as won't hesitate to escalate For now, we're just rhyming