Girls, don’t run that shit that beauty’s only skin deep,
Cause I don’t want no girl with a Brillo face,
Or the type that’ll leave Jheri Curl juice on my pillow case.
Lyrical lecture, word architecture,
Rap director, the best in my sector.
Microphone cool chief, releasin the smooth speech…
I get nasty with a pen and some loose leaf.
I never fronted, you can get it if you want it…
Won’t say I’m the best, but I’m not that far from it.
What’s when you rap and don’t appreciate the art?
What’s when you sell out just to get a start?
What’s when you make bullshit just for the charts?
What’s when you rap, but it’s not from the heart?
What’s when you’re hardcore, then you turn pop?
When you steal ideas to get props?
When you sell out to be on top?
What’s when you front like you’re hard, but you’re not?
That’s a gimmick.
You got game like me? I doubt it.
They say pimping ain’t easy…what’s so hard about it?
I don’t like a girl that be hanging with a slut crew,
I can’t sport a female who’s crossed-eyed with a buck tooth.
I need a female I can sport when I’m outdoors.
I’m not choosy…I got a rep to look out for.
For what it’s worth, I’ve been a hip-hopper from birth.
Try to disrespect, and get your ass played up like a Smurf.
Brothers ain’t half-steppin…they’re walking backwards.
See, you’re out your mind tryin’ to face tha God.
Your rhyme is like an empty prison…a waste of bars.
I like my pockets fat, not flat.
Rhymes more fresher than a virgin in a ‘frigerator.
I’m so def, I need a hearing aid with an equalizer.
Why fuck with these cornball rappers when you can have the real thing?