Fuck happy music and the same people that make it
You're like the music version of the Lance Armstrong bracelet
For hard long faces I'ma bastardize the beat
Make you feel like you ate acid by the sheet
Really fast for 90 weeks
I grab the fuckin raptor by its beak
And pry it open like I'm hoping that by stranglin a bird
The little notions that are painfully absurd
And pokin, gratin on my nerves
Are broken when I choke it's appetite to eat
Point a rapper out that's telling you he raps hard
And I'ma lock his ass up in a cellar in my backyard
And I'ma kick his ass every day
Every forty-five minutes
Til the Kansas City Royals win a pendant
I guess you're just coincidentally hopeless
And that's the reason that I took your demo disc and broke it
So before you compare me to Eminem or Slug
Please show a little bit of love!
Pitchfork Media reviews? (Fuck 'em!)
Christian conservative psychos? (Fuck 'em!)
Sean Hannity and Ann Coulter? (Fuck 'em!)
Black Clover, bitch, here to take care of the public (What up!)
I gotta throw another mean jab, baby (what up!)
I gotta throw another mean jab, baby (what up!)
You muthafuckers think it's time to go home? (Oh hell no!)
What up!
I gotta throw another mean jab, baby (what up!)
I gotta throw another mean jab, baby (what up!)
You muthafuckers think it's time to go home? (Oh hell no!)
What up!
This is dedicated to the rappers in the battlin outfits
You never fucked my girlfriend, quit rappin about it
I slap the diapers off your dipshit fan base
And teach you how to never give a limp wrist handshake
VH1 called me and told me that there's a white rapper reality show and that I need to be on it
Now I don't know what the hell that implied
But I told VH1 "Y'all can eat shit and die!"
I'm not an entity, I'm an enterprise
I'm the interplanetary solar system beaming in the skies
I'm the Enter the Wu-tang song that got cut
I'm the Enter the Dragon, Mr Hahn's house, serving fried duck
I'm an intervention for you, and no one showed up
Your Interscope Records after Rhymesayers blows up!
Your intermural-fucking-soccer at a Catholic girl's school
You suck at life, you're not cool
If somebody disses Kansas City (Fuck 'em!)
If somebody disses my man Approach (Fuck 'em!)
If they don't think Seven is a genius (Fuck 'em!)
And they diss Doomtree I'll take a knife and cut 'em!
(What up!)
I gotta throw another mean jab, baby (what up!)
I gotta throw another mean jab, baby (what up!)
You muthafuckers think it's time to go home? (Oh hell no!)
What up!
I gotta throw another mean jab, baby (what up!)
I gotta throw another mean jab, baby (what up!)
You muthafuckers think it's time to go home? (Oh hell no!)
What up!
The rhythm's out front, to pick me up
Now shut, the fizzy fuck up, punk
You interrupt, muthafuck
The gritty grub on your disc, it's shitty stuff I insist
It really sucks, it was free
I listened once
I was skippin songs, then I got pissed and started skipping stones
Then I skipped lunch and found you and started chippin bones
I was skippin grades to elevate my common sense
You were dumb enough to underestimate my awesome-ness!
Ousted the now-debted style-threaded backpackers
Sounded like grout-headed gat snappers
Clap at these ingrate bastardized mix tape rapper cast
Bitch face savage
Mac's gunning for the title
So flash my symbol in the sky and I'll stab every single instrumental you supply
Three times Rhymesayers had the best of the year
Now get the fuck away from me and go fetch me a beer
For anybody dissin Tech N9ne (Fuck 'em!)
For anybody dissin Atmosphere (Fuck 'em!)
Those girls don't like DJ Sku (Fuck 'em!)
And if you see Joe Good tell him I still love him!
