[Planetary]
Put me in the booth and I'll brodie your wave files
You still getting booed at the open mic like 8 Mile
You still actin' like spoken word is serious
I laugh at you fag-niggas with dyed hair and pierced lips
What kinda nigga from the hood is you?
I could name fifty niggas that's as good as you
But a nigga like Plan man I'm better than all of 'em
I make em quit, now their baby moms' is callin' for em
Askin me where they baby pop at
That nigga he at the sink cleanin' my White Sox hat, bitch!
I tell em call you back in a minute
Cause when he finish he gotta brush my dunks so vintage
I'm in this rap game for the spinach
My food-for-thought is like serving fresh lettuce to niggas
I'm the chef and I'm cooking up Def Jams
Broad street bully cut the check for ten grand
[Doap Nixon]
I made a promise that I never get high
I ain't scared of death, I'm scared to live wantin' to die
Cause the one-twenty opened my eyes
The Koran molded me
The Bible told me what's a disguise
But, I broke lights like they need to be fixed
And had a thought pattern process that D and B's rich
But, the block chirped, hid work in the trash-can
I rip a nigga off and lay low in the badlands (Let me get that, nigga)
Stay bent off of what poppy done sold me
We all forced to hold heat, smokin the gold tree
So knowledge knowledge till the seven-fifteen-four
Vinnie Paz, Planetary, Reef the Lost Cauze
Kamach, my nigga Crypt and Demoz
Apathy, Celph Titled and King Syze
We all 'bout to put this game in a frenzy
And the chain's slight frost like the air in the Benzy
Put me in the booth and I'll brodie your wave files
You still getting booed at the open mic like 8 Mile
You still actin' like spoken word is serious
I laugh at you fag-niggas with dyed hair and pierced lips
What kinda nigga from the hood is you?
I could name fifty niggas that's as good as you
But a nigga like Plan man I'm better than all of 'em
I make em quit, now their baby moms' is callin' for em
Askin me where they baby pop at
That nigga he at the sink cleanin' my White Sox hat, bitch!
I tell em call you back in a minute
Cause when he finish he gotta brush my dunks so vintage
I'm in this rap game for the spinach
My food-for-thought is like serving fresh lettuce to niggas
I'm the chef and I'm cooking up Def Jams
Broad street bully cut the check for ten grand
[Doap Nixon]
I made a promise that I never get high
I ain't scared of death, I'm scared to live wantin' to die
Cause the one-twenty opened my eyes
The Koran molded me
The Bible told me what's a disguise
But, I broke lights like they need to be fixed
And had a thought pattern process that D and B's rich
But, the block chirped, hid work in the trash-can
I rip a nigga off and lay low in the badlands (Let me get that, nigga)
Stay bent off of what poppy done sold me
We all forced to hold heat, smokin the gold tree
So knowledge knowledge till the seven-fifteen-four
Vinnie Paz, Planetary, Reef the Lost Cauze
Kamach, my nigga Crypt and Demoz
Apathy, Celph Titled and King Syze
We all 'bout to put this game in a frenzy
And the chain's slight frost like the air in the Benzy
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