|
That's right y'all, the K double-O L, K-E-I-T-H (South Bronx) |
|
I'm in here, I'm a let you know (I started rappin') |
|
I can tell you can't rap, look at your engineer: |
|
A Japanese guy with glasses on with straight leg jeans and a beer |
|
Got you on Hit Factory with four groupies with acne |
|
Thinking you recording a masterpiece, chewing peanuts in your session |
|
I'm a learn you a lesson: all y'all can't write |
|
You just a new group with an ordinary gimmick and radio and poster hype |
|
Now that 3,000 people lost their jobs, I'ma see how your record do |
|
But you're stuttering out your boo boo, can't give a decent interview |
|
I was always wondering about you |
|
Your whole group evolving different images around me |
|
Acting like they don't copy me when they see me |
|
You've spent your whole life listening to "Critical Beatdown" |
|
You's a secret fan; every time I create an A.K.A. character |
|
Most of you groups out there are so wack, looking at my shoes in my videos |
|
The back of my album cover, and stealing my marketing plan |
|
Like you inventing something new to the company |
|
and in reality you're clones of me |
|
(Y'all can't wait for my album to come out to steal something new) |
|
You should bow to the master! |
|
(Worship me, worship me, worship me, worship me) (Repeat 4x) |
|
I pity the untalented, half of y'all creativity is to steal duplicate |
|
The clothes I wear, call your promotional staff to get you out |
|
Quick in the magazines to perpetrate me on your Ampex reels |
|
On tour most MC's draw sketches of me and watch what I'm wearing |
|
I found out why rappers look at me jealous and keep staring |
|
Comparing me to themselves from a distance when I walk offstage |
|
Your record label, your group, and your fanbase giving me a standing ovation |
|
In the Chicago Bull warmup suit and a bald head like Michael Jordan |
|
Six-time championship of the league, four million groups in the industry |
|
Rakim and Canibus is the only ones rapping pro speed |
|
I average 52 rappers per game, I put you to shame |
|
Now you gonna sit in your used Expedition and act like you don't know my name |
|
I don't have to battle anybody nor freestyle |
|
Half of your flows are written by rookies working Montreal Expos |
|
I don't care if you act wild, bring your raps to the studio |
|
I'ma get in your booty, yo |
|
I'ma set up a bag of dust on the console |
|
So you can do this, light up, and smoke, yo, cause I'm no joke yo |
|
I might ride on the cycle level 3, vomit when you go in the booth |
|
Your product manager is going to say, "Yo who is he?" |
|
(Yo who is that, man?) |
|
You should bow to the master! |
|
(Worship me, worship me, worship me, worship me) (Repeat 2x) |
|
I don't play with skinny legs and the water head |
|
Time after time you don't know what I'm thinking when I come |
|
Into your studio professional with a white man driving a Continental Lincoln |
|
Groupies look at me, y'all don't pay me no mind |
|
I'm about to tear a new ass in this kid, he'd better not let me rhyme |
|
Yeah, take a break, order some blunts |
|
I'm about to get up all in your fronts |
|
With your body shaped like Mitch Green and Tony Tubbs, you don't want this |
|
Go in the corner with your stomach hanging, gold teeth looking sneaky |
|
I'm a let you know how be, G |
|
No matter how much your styles change you can't see me |
|
Believe that, light up your ass souped up |
|
Stand behind your backup, with your acne-faced girlfriend |
|
You're gonna get a lot of feedback |
|
Test the best, you're gonna have water on your kneecap |
|
You should bow to the master! |
|
(Worship me, worship me, worship me, worship me) (Repeat 2x) |
|
Yeah, I'm sorry Blaze Magazine, I'm first |
|
The other 49 rappers are behind me, what?! |
