I’ll never understand why a wack rapper tries and
Convinces himself that his image is so fly and
That’s the type of crap you know I’m not buying…
Chumps lack the beats and their rhymes don’t apply.
Brooklyn: the home of the black and the beautiful.
For a rough rap sound, ain’t a place more suitable.
A lot of rappers be like one time wonders,
Couldn’t say a fly rhyme if there was one right under their noses…
I hate those motherfuckin posers.
The mind is a terrible thing to waste.
I show love cause it’s a terrible thing to hate.
But some find happiness while others find sorrow,
And what’s here today, may be gone tomorrow.
You know, I used to be a player…flygirl-layer and a heartbreaker,
Lovemaker, backbreaker, but then I made a mistake.
Yes, I fell in love with this ill chick,
Sweatin’ me for money, my name and the dilsnick.
My homeboys told me drop her cause it would be to my benefit;
She used to say I’d better quit hanging with those derelicts.