1, 2, 1, 2 Listen, look To all the rappers and the double-barrell trappers The real clappers that be plotting with the jackers Listen, check it out now Listen
You see I’m next with the realness I be the infamous, I earn cake Don’t know me, check the work rate I move old school in warfare, beware See I’ve got my own flow but it’s cool to share And all the fakes that wanna slither to the Jakes I’ll be picking up a bat and I’ma leng it to your face Trust no one else but yourself brudda ‘Cause everybody’s quick to switch when you’re living in the gutter Keep getting in the butter like you’re supposed to You’ll know my business if you’re someone that I’m close to You’re not on it, don’t front like you’re hard cah Niggas like you been soft from the start I’m rapping with the heart, I’m living in the past Niggas is grass, they never wanna see a man pass But it’s cool, I be putting niggas on blast Schooling kids like it’s year 6, putting them in class See the flow, I keep it real tight, I have to Raps what I love and I do, it’s not maths dude Try and violate and you’re up on my list And I ain’t stopping with the hunting until a nigga’s getting hit And I ain’t messing with you niggas’ dead beef I be zoning in Sciroccos hearing Mortal Technique I’m real cuz so I only listen to real rap If you were real then my last verse, you’ll feel that Illuminati want my mind, soul and my body They want a nigga trapped, wrapped like a cling and Bobby And on my life I ain’t blowing through a dodgy If I’m blowing then I’m blowing with the 12 gauge shotty I flow invisible, it’s so political I’ve got that twenty-four hour flow so it’s digital I never beef with a punk so it’s physical I’d rather be invisible than in a cell miserable That’s real talk and I ain’t listen to the hate I’m just doing what I’m doing for the bread that’s on the plate You’re all fake, this is real rap, it’s so great Auto-tune, skinny jeans, they’re all rate Let’s take it back to Mob Deep and Gangster Cah truthfully you MC’s are all cancer Killing the game with your lyrics about [?] Fuck your swag, I’ll leave a nigga wearing bin bags It’s so hot, niggas get shot in their own blocks It’s so wrong, slags are getting fucked by their own pops And those cops quick to give a nigga a roadblock So mobs go and do crime like ‘So what?’ I spit truth, consider this another five-a-day Misinformed youth, letting piggies take their rides away And mandem think they’re so hard But how you gonna feel when your whole block is a boneyard? With no life, couple tales and stray tramps Free-speaking humans all in jails and free camps History repeats itself and that’s a fact And I don’t listen when the news is on cah it’s all whack