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Medic! Medic! A, yo, that's what they yelling! |
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Their hearts done stopped pumping, son, and ain't no telling |
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What that kid gone do now, is that him writing texts? |
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What the?! I didn't know that son was ambidextrous |
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With the beats and the rhymes |
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Plus he said it on time |
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And listen to that groove |
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It's raw with no refined |
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With "Boom-na-na".. |
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Yeah, that's how we did it |
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Rolled the loop, and kick in the snare, and then he lit it |
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Now you're brain's on drugs |
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Introducing J. Rawls |
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He makes the beats for ya'll |
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And now he got the gall |
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Like, Who he think he is? |
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Like maybe Mos, Sans, and Kwa.. |
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Ain't wrote no damn lyrics since the days of my man, Ra |
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But he still move the crowd |
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To the next universe |
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And ain't no chaos in this verse |
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But you gotta let it soak first |
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Before you knock it |
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But listen to you rock it |
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And once that rhyme settle up in your dome |
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Just buy the album when I drop it |
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But it ain't like that |
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I'm just statin' my case |
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I been touching Ts and marks [????] since I tied my first shoelace |
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So listen up! Cause, son, the rhymes about to start |
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So sing the chorus with me, cause that's my favorite part |
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Come on: |
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[Chorus x2] |
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Who they wanna be like? |
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They can't see me! |
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Who they tryin' a' be like? |
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They tryin' a' be me |
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Who they wanna be like? |
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They can't see me! |
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Tryin' a' be like. |
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They can't see J. Rawls |
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Who they wanna be like? That's what I thought |
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Expected Sands on the mic, son, but, yo', you got caught |
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By them brothers united, and we're not Bling, Bling |
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And ain't no stretch Hummers and stuff |
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We just doin' our Thing, Thing |
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With the nine to five; man, I'm trying to stay alive |
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And, yo, this rent payment is due, and ain't no checks from Jive |
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Or, maybe, Tommy Mottola, or even Arista Corporation |
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I just do this stuff for fun, I do this stuff for Jason |
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Or maybe Joe Sikes (Peace son!) |
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So I can take it up a little higher |
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Put two weeks in on the job or maybe even retire |
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And I just got here, but I'm still working like I'm starving |
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And working my ass off, but it's getting kind of hard and.. |
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So maybe the next time you see me I'll be talking about Bling, Bling |
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But I'll be giving to the org instead of wearing them diamond rings |
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Or, maybe, buying equipment, so I can perfect my craft |
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Making phat ass beats for Sands; so he can, keep spitting that math |
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So check for Book of Acks [???], and peeping the Lone Cats |
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But don't be expecting too many more of these damn Rawls raps |
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Until next rhyme, remember this moment in time |
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With that "Who they wanna be like?" Cause that's my favorite line |
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[Chorus x3] |
