Just because you bought a mic doesn’t make you a contender
Anymore then a Tapout shirt make a U.F.C member
Another rap pretender heard better mixes from the blender
The only place your getting distro is off my homey Big B’S frender.
No matter how free no one wants your mix tape
Cause the only love your getting, is with pills or date rape
Sad you didn’t start rapping until you first heard me
Now the only street your repin is the one called Sesame
How many people actually downloaded your track
And how many plays is you hitting reload and back
Try to keep up kid think you got the stamina
Ill flips it up in iambic pentameter
So Many Week M C’s, — That Plague This game
Your Styles Are Played To Us — Your Sound Is Lame
A Fraud A Fake We Know, — What Soon will be
Destin The Halls Of make believe make-believe MC’S
We’ve all seen you live another mannequin who raps
About as entertain to me as an MC who naps
While were spitting Black Talons your straight drooling caps
A flow so dead your E.V.P. plays on Taps
And another thing that’s vain but sad but true
There’s a million of you thinking this tracks 'bout you
And everywhere I look its the same old song
But its all that hatred that’s keeping me warm
See its Daddy on the mount, no need to debate it
Try to step up gets chest ventilated
So Ill keep on droppin tracks that get your girlfriend wet
And you just keep on playing fake MC on the internet!
Swing batter batter, swing batter batter, swing batter, swing batter batter,
swing
Step on up to the plate
Swing batter batter, swing batter batter, swing batter, swing batter batter,
swing
Step on up to the plate
(Im a shove that bat up your ass and turn you into a popsicle)
With my sight beyond sight I can see what’s about to happen
Your going nighty night now that its another white guy rapping
But I’m a mutant turtle and I’ll leave your hare ass napping
The underdog is here and your skills I’m steady lapping
I be slapping their cerebellum with these lyrical stories I tell’em
While you pay to play here’s a hundred tickets now go and sell’em
You can step on up to me when you have actually done something
Don’t care bout your Myspace plays to me that means nothing
Your band got Fruity Loops and now your rapping with Reason
Hate to break it to you kid that’s a hot download last season
Ya’ll tryin to be down but you don’t come original
The same regurgitated rap won’t get you love unconditional
Everyone knows someone that raps and thinking that they be a hit
If hear another freestyle my wrists I’m gonna slit
A role model I’m not but a favor your waxing idiotic
Your wasting both of our time son since your lax and not demotic
You ask for my opinion so I’m gonna give it to your straight
But it ain’t what you wanted to hear so now you gotta hate
and when I’m around you all up on me like salt that a deer licks
Ya got a little testy seeing your girl in our DVD
But you shouldn’t blame me homie she came to us with that S.T.D.
Couldn’t believe seeing her doin the things you never thought she would
You can take it from me even up close she wasn’t that good
Gonna take it back now just renewed my License to Ill
Ya skills lookin dull nullified with rhymes I spill
You ain’t killing 'em softly you ain’t no where near your quota
I ain’t a Beastie Boy but I got rhymes like Abe Vigoda