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feat. Rampage |
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[Intro: Rampage] |
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Hear ye, hear ye, yah |
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In this future of hip hop history |
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I'm here to bring out the people's champ |
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R.A. The Rugged Man |
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[Bridge: Rampage] |
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Put your hands up, tell 'em wild out |
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This is how we do it, we here to turn it out |
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Put your hands up, tell 'em wild out |
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This is how we do it, we here to turn it out |
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[Verse 1: R.A The Rugged Man] |
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Yo, my flow reminiscent of a prime Grand Puba |
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My tongue sharper than the sword of the Japanese Yakuza |
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Beats always slamming like Dilla, like Ali was the man in Manilla |
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Man or gorilla, I'm a nicer striker than Anderson Silva |
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I'm conquering like Hannibal on the back of an elephant |
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I'm the best even if I'm pink and pale and I'm lacking in melanin |
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I've been a problem since my first birth date |
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In the delivery room my dick hit the ground and it caused a earthquake |
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The school hallways I was pissing in |
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As a kid I was lacking in discipline |
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Ignoring authorities and never listening |
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I come from the slummiest of slum villages, killing evil |
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You come from a village of disco dancing; Village People |
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You other rappers I'm obliterating |
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My flow is the Michelangelo Sistine Chapel |
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You ain't even fingerpainting |
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Bitch, I'm swinging nunchucks and hitting you dumb fucks |
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And making you duck down like Ruck and Ruste Juxx |
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I'm eyeing you fat bitches and seeing which one fucks |
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I'm making the gun blust, I'm bringing the blood guts |
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Come on |
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[Hook] |
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I get it done for the (people, people) |
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I'm the champ, I'm the champ of the (people, people) |
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I bring home the title to the (people, people) |
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I'm the motherfucking champ of the (people, people) |
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I'm the motherfucking champ of the (people, people) |
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[Verse 2: R.A. The Rugged Man] |
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This isn't money and a Grammy and an Academy Award |
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This a brutal lyrical verbal version of Gatti and Ward |
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If I bust in your eye, it might blind ya |
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As a kid I was too hyper, sniffing pancakes syrup from Aunt Jemima |
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Sip wine with Jesus, tell him I'm in a drunken stuper |
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Then I slap box God and sumo wrestle with Buddha |
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I ain't dumbing it down, I'm murdering and gunning it down |
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These others artists I'm above them even if I'm under the ground |
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A rapper with a Maybach or a car that my ass can't afford |
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I'll rip out the windshield and I'll shit on your dashboard |
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Don't make me laugh, young blood newcomer |
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Your mother was a crackhead, you a crack baby fresh out of the dumpster |
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Smacking ya, hurt ya, I murk ya, massacre mass murder |
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Blasting your ass, stashing the burner, the trash lurker |
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I'm worser than Rambo in Bhurma |
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I'm dumb in the head, I'm not a fast learner |
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The white boy version of Nat Turner |
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Come on |
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[Hook] |
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[Verse 3: R.A. The Rugged Man] |
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Tommy Hearns Marvelous Marvin Hagler with the vernacular |
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Bullets splattering through your kidney and flying out the back of ya |
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I'm shining like diamonds in Africa |
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I'm mathematical, scientifical like Benjamin Banneker |
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Rowdier than riots in Attica |
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I got identity issues, it's self hatred, a pissed off |
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Wigga acting like I just stepped off of the slaveship |
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I kill any beat, murder any track |
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Mutilate the snare, rape the kick-drum and shit on the hi-hat |
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Come on |
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[Hook] |
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[Bridge] |
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[Outro: R.A. The Rugged Man] |
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I let it rock for the (people, people) |
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I'm the champ, I'm the champ of the (people, people) |
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I really live for the (people, people) |
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I'll win it all for the (people, people) |
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That's what we are, we just (people, people) |
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I'm the champ, I'm the champ of the (people, people)Annotate |
