Just Rhyming Your Old Droog (Ft. Joey Bada$$ & Styles P)

[Verse 1: Your Old Droog]
Uh
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 (ha)
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 faggots
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 whores are so lamе
They rock Nirvana shirts in the hood but they don't know cocainе
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