Unknown Prophets, Eyedea - Dat Shit lyrics

Punk MCs are junk to me
They don't work productively
Or constructively
And when confronted they all be
Sunk in they seat
Got the nerve to think they
Really gonna fuck with me come on now
This shit is whack
Let's cut the chitter chat
I'll do away with your career
In a minute flat got to finish tracks plus
Your whole gimmick's whack
Don't even send out your demo
They gon' send it back
I am here to speak the truth
But some cats be missing facts
Drop a couple songs and
Swear they're the sickest
'fact they got the balls to drop
An album and pretend it's phat
I couldn't tell you son
I was too busy skipping tracks
They got these fake ass players
With they stinking ass, up in the club
Like you're the one she's winking at?
Shes throwing smiles at me
I throw a grimace back
And then I just go ahead with my pimping ass

We gon rock dat shit rip dat shit
You got some hot shit boy well spit dat shit
Drop dat shit hit dat shit
Yo we doing things you only wished you did
We moving shit doing shit
Constantly proving shit to say say we ain't
True to this would simply be ludicrous
Yo, skip the foolishness we fantastic
Listen to the party people saying
That's dat shit!

Yo these seals? at they pinnacle
Are minds at they minimal
You serving cats - fictional
You lying - habitual you peas be indivisible
This is not permissible
My words will make you miserable
Feel like life's unlivable
Your family's holding vigils
You're murdered by my lyricals
You know my syllables
Be killing like villainous criminals
Just like religious rituals
It's so predictable
DJs will spin this joint till they
Collapse in a condition critical
It's irresistible like keeping a fly
Girl in your visuals
Grippin' shit through teen like doctors
Grabbing balls at physicals
Your rhymes, yo they mythical
Your album sales equivocal
Your shows: either no one goes
Or the crowd's invisible
Now'days it's all just typical
Cats wanna battle on message boards
Chat-rooms but never in the physical
I'm screaming 'Watch yourself' like Mystikal
To these egotistical kids
Whose style are shitty
Unwitty and despicable


I got a question
How come you sport that grin
When you know you're losing
It's like cats wanna get served
For their own amusement
Well, I guess you stepping to
Me ain't completely stupid
At least after the battle you can
Say you helped make dope music in a way
Even tho the weak ass flows you
Folks have spit have only proooved
My point again and again that many
A men are just fooools
That crassic lack of passion
Got me asking 'whooo
The FUCK told you to grab a mic?!'
Duuude, the only people that think you
Tight are in your creeew
And they only think you tight
Because they hella wack toooo
I got shit to prove to trash talkers
Shit, I've turned down more record deals
Then ya'll will ever be offered
You fucking numb dusty crumbs must be dumb
I run laps around your tracks
While you sit in a dunce
Cap and suck your thumb
And to anyone who thinks they can roast me
Tell it to your girl before
She comes over to polish my trophies