Letras
I do what I want, these rappers is stuck doing what they can
Showed up with a brand new style
Southpaw the way I'm switching the stance
All these niggas do is practice hooks
I'm making sure that, that shit don't land
I'm picking up right where I left off
And that's doing the shit that they can't
Tell these motherfuckas close they mouth
And lets see what they do with they hands
They talking bands, I'll wipe my ass with your advance
Just give me the chance
No one gave me a dime still no change in the plan
I make a new beat then I dance
These boys cant do shit with they hands
Not Becky I feel like the man
Providing the shit that they can't
May be bias but I'm not a fan, nigga
Wait, what did I miss?
Why the ones with no talent the ones getting rich?
Thirteen putting these drums in the mix
You wasn't the only one playing with sticks
They do what they do
And it is what it is
Got a SG reminds me when I was a kid
Young, playing Guitar Hero and shit
You wasn't the only one tryna hit licks (what the fuck?)
Mic check one two
One two, one two, one (hmm)
Yeah
It's funny to me how they calling them artist
But with no writers they can't hold a tune
Then start proclaiming themselves as the goat
Stans eat it up now they thinking its true
And why when I go take a look at the credits
I see them when I'm looking for you
Wish I could step on all of them at once
I don't really wanna dirty up my shoes
But what else can I do?
Let the stylus drop and find me a groove
If it's hitting throw that bad boy on loop
One man band, stomping through like a troop
Straight fooling on the ones, and twos and
Delivering you an auditory nuisance
He on the mic sounding real stupid
Another jobber send him back to schooling
Three count, tell 'em hit my music