Cage - Haterama lyrics

So many faggots to swing the ax at
Who do I shoot first?
Answer when I make this dead
Cow feel my boots hurt
Whoever's standin' as part of
The human pavement
Quitters advance, tryin' to rap
The movement's faded
Feel like I stuck it in shit
Sold ya'll a bucket of shit
Even Bobbito said, "Fuck it I quit!"
KCR shit me out but you knew that
Reflect your crew back
To that late-'90s beat you shit to shoot at
The biggest pop star in the world
Threw dirt in my engine
But when I say "Hi!"s name I look
Like Royce tryin' to get attention
I know the ledge, 110 stories you been sour
The only Boston hit's in New
York was the Twin Towers
It's only right my raps reflect evil
My only wish: to trade places with them 3
000 dead people
Hindsight Halloween you begged to open up
Daddy's Lex, coked it up, on stage chokin' up
Dropped the mic and left
Cage arrived a hour later
Cause the opening acts bore me
Epecially them coward haters
Eight Jack and Cokes, 7L's gettin' lucky
Get to the side of the stage
These groupies tryin' to touch me
That's a snuff, no that's a hug
My arm's small richie Rich got the nerve to
Steal on me for pub? What was that? Bugs hit
Windshields harder than that
Wasted loot on rap
Coulda been through Harvard and back
I know you're salty I sold more in Beantown
You're obscene
Now you're wasting all your label's cream now
Trying to get violent, but gay is gay
The same day New Yorkers was on mourning JMJ
You got no respect
Why give it? You don't get it
What toy-ass crew can't beat up paramedics
Too many cards showing
Do you know how to play the game?
Throwin' up consecutive bricks like
It's your label's name oops, I guess it is
Fuckin' stick to the kegs
Your team probably front like they ain't
On my dick in your face
End your career? shit ain't even started
Clean up your style
Help out Lif, he holdin' your whole scene up
You see the sweat on his face, Eso
I know you ain't sweat like that
Since you sent El-P a demo
And his slang is outdated like
"Look I'm butter now"
You fatherfuckers still drown in
My watered down
True, me and your producer got a past beef
Either his girl sucked my dick or I
Wouldn't rock to his trash beats
Both, look girls, your health's vital
Cop the Nighthawks album, bitch
It's Celph Titled played your boys idle
Every tonight'll seem like you and
The cops are tight
Shoot up your ankles cuz your socks are white
Go teach your pops to fight