Instrumental: "The Lesson Pt. 2" by The Roots.
Produced by: Questlove & Rahzel.
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yo let's be,
Serious, I hear you kids is pop like pepsi.
I'll serve a fuckin' rapper and his family like Geoffrey,
Have his crippled brother yelling shit like "Gretzky!".
Yo, Yo, I'm still more retarded,
Dropped more hits than the Billboard has charted.
You're garbage. So go keep your pen moving,
And take them old ass recycled rhymes to the Blue Bin.
You in - some fuckin' trouble with the E,
Buck Fifty your face and I'll double it for free.
You're fucking with the B-O-M to the B.
Got my man on the beat, I'm that M to the C.
A 40 ounce of Gin sounds tempting to me,
Left your bitch with a rash and a dent on her knee.
It's L-E-G-E-N to the D,
And I'll be your step father eventually..
It's Thoze Guyz with that real, real, real raw shit,
That real deal, that real ill Bomb shit.
My heart and soul is hard and cold,
My mind said 'Chill, Chill', I still lost it.
Better off dead or locked, blitzed by ten o'clock
A.M and playing with tits like Ed the Sock.
It's a Never-Not-Ever-Gonna-Get-A-Shot-Day
Everyday where I stay so I'm getting gwop.
Quick to set up shop, Legend's got bills to pay, hot shit you'd kill to say,
I said, forgot, and never thought was real hot anyway.
Still drop 20 K to bet I lock any spot,
Rock like heavy clay, talk like Freddie J,
That ain't my lady though, I got my steady lay, that's just a crazy ho.
And fuck the radio and models,
If I die in Toronto with a 40 Ounce bottle I'm swayze yo.
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