Lyrics
Yeah, okay, okay
Well, who's the best rapper
Well that's a hot debate
Priddy Ugly, that's a topic mate
Word is going around, it's way past the gossip phase
If you're an opp then it's not your day
Rappers in a cocky place
I'm not the one to turn into hibachi steak
Lost his taste, now your favourite rapper probably dropping plates
Copy, paste, I'm Haile Selassie in Versace shades
Need a Maserati just to match my Liberace grace
You won't scare me if you rap like Cole
Do drugs like Thug or sound like Drake
Kings lose their hеads if they scared that their crowns might brеak
A great white, I guess I found my hake
No cappin G
No rappers feel me on these classic beats
Factually, they don't hear your verse if it's after me
New schools wouldn't graduate from my faculty
Happy feet running on these tracks like an athlete
Crave to cook a rapper, got this hunger that I have to feed
If they want beef I turned the game to a rapper feast
Rap butcher and your girl admit that I'm packing meat
I've been goin' ham, you follow lamb, you should ask the sheep
Looking for the goat then you should ask for me
It had to be, karats on my grill like rabbit teeth
Living in a world where even rats get a stack of cheese
You're six-nine, the only flow you got is when you have to pee
Well, who's the best rapper
Well that's a hot debate
Priddy Ugly, that's a topic mate
Word is going around, it's way past the gossip phase
If you're an opp then it's not your day
My lady lit so my fire really match her steez
She tied the knot with my dad's son just to catch the heat
A clapping spree, standing ovations like we jacked the seats
They can't believe, the place jumping like a trampoline
Rappers running out of steam, I'm the gasoline
Smack your glass of lean
'Cause, I mean, you rappers half asleep
I'm your nightmare even though Martin had a dream
You cats are dry, money moisturises, cash is fucking cream