[Intro]
Meanwhile, back at the rap cave!
Jumping gee willickers Rap Man, you're never gonna believe it!
What seems to be the problem my rap-tastic companion?
I just found out there's a bunch of wack ass, no talent having, swear they can rap, 40-something, should've got a job, still living with their parents, so wack they couldn't even get the whole 15 minutes of fame, only got 2 minutes perpetrating bitch ass motherfuckers out there on the scene trying to make music!
Oh my god! (I know!)
Rapman will not stand for this! (Go get 'em!)
To the booth!
[Verse 1]
Uh, now let me hop up in the rap-mobile
Get so much pussy in the back, they should call it the cat-mobile
Everybody's worried about a deal, but I keep it real
Fucking around and I hit you in the crown
With an inevitable sound that's spreading through your town
Hold up! Gee willickers Rap Man
I don't think they comprehend or can begin to even understand
We don't fight crime, we fight whack rhymes, one song at a time, line after line
Hold up, motherfucker I'm 'bout to roll up
Pull out the hammer on a bamma leave 'em tore up (Oh my god!)
Yeah, you talk, but can you walk? Let's see you put the dough up (Cha-ching!)
Rhymes I throw up, a little nasty bastard (Yugh!)
People hating on a brother just cause I mastered the flow
Like Jedi, bet I, murder it before you heard of it, bitches I'm merking it
Go berserk in the club while honeys twerkin' it
Haters talking shit where they ain't no time for this, you know I'm bombing this, the flow is ominous
Second I'm rhyming this, sound like a dominous (Ching!)
All the people that was hatin' in the beginning, know that I'm winning
Let me slip through your fingers and now your spinning
You can check the Polaroid pictures 'cause bitches I'm grinning, I got it
Treat the game like a honey, I had to get inside it
Visionary and Logic, is like two planets collided
I'm a lyrical miracle, matter fact a paradox
On stage while my DJ scratching like chicken pox
Never put me in your box, if your shit eats tapes
I'm not bitin', only quoting one of the greats, now
The radio got me feeling disgusted
Punch you in the snot-box 'til your brain concussed it
Women they lust it, when they guts get busted
Rip it up and thrust it, I'm the best, trust it
Meanwhile, back at the rap cave!
Jumping gee willickers Rap Man, you're never gonna believe it!
What seems to be the problem my rap-tastic companion?
I just found out there's a bunch of wack ass, no talent having, swear they can rap, 40-something, should've got a job, still living with their parents, so wack they couldn't even get the whole 15 minutes of fame, only got 2 minutes perpetrating bitch ass motherfuckers out there on the scene trying to make music!
Oh my god! (I know!)
Rapman will not stand for this! (Go get 'em!)
To the booth!
[Verse 1]
Uh, now let me hop up in the rap-mobile
Get so much pussy in the back, they should call it the cat-mobile
Everybody's worried about a deal, but I keep it real
Fucking around and I hit you in the crown
With an inevitable sound that's spreading through your town
Hold up! Gee willickers Rap Man
I don't think they comprehend or can begin to even understand
We don't fight crime, we fight whack rhymes, one song at a time, line after line
Hold up, motherfucker I'm 'bout to roll up
Pull out the hammer on a bamma leave 'em tore up (Oh my god!)
Yeah, you talk, but can you walk? Let's see you put the dough up (Cha-ching!)
Rhymes I throw up, a little nasty bastard (Yugh!)
People hating on a brother just cause I mastered the flow
Like Jedi, bet I, murder it before you heard of it, bitches I'm merking it
Go berserk in the club while honeys twerkin' it
Haters talking shit where they ain't no time for this, you know I'm bombing this, the flow is ominous
Second I'm rhyming this, sound like a dominous (Ching!)
All the people that was hatin' in the beginning, know that I'm winning
Let me slip through your fingers and now your spinning
You can check the Polaroid pictures 'cause bitches I'm grinning, I got it
Treat the game like a honey, I had to get inside it
Visionary and Logic, is like two planets collided
I'm a lyrical miracle, matter fact a paradox
On stage while my DJ scratching like chicken pox
Never put me in your box, if your shit eats tapes
I'm not bitin', only quoting one of the greats, now
The radio got me feeling disgusted
Punch you in the snot-box 'til your brain concussed it
Women they lust it, when they guts get busted
Rip it up and thrust it, I'm the best, trust it
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