Joe Budden, Ab-Soul - Cut from a Different Cloth lyrics

Look at me, King! Look at me, King!
Soul kaylin on the couch sleepin'
She wake up, she gonna be like damnnnn

Come and spar with a titan
If you ain't knew it's true I'm
Zeus and I marvel at lightning
What a marvelous sight
Know the thought is enticin'
Flow stupid like 50 Tyson
Don't trip with 50 Cent
I beat 'em all like Tyson
That's no coincidence
Ab-Soul, don't forget the hyphen
I might throw a fit
You think I lived in the Salvation
Army but all it is
Is that we got a new 2Pacalypse Now
(When?) Before the apocalypse
Wow, how do you come up with this?
If you behind Ab


Then maybe you can stomach this
Who could fuck with it?
I know you got a dick, but use your head
Bruh
They sleepin' on me by a colony of bed bugs
Cut from a different cloth and no
One knows my thread count
My mind is like a sword
You'd swore I'd have a hair cut
Soul and Budden, no discussion
Joe, you know it's nothin'
Wrote the score, and then I scored, metaphor
And 1

I don't know about you
Hey I don't know about them
I just do what I do
They just do what they can
They be hatin' on the man
With a knife in their hand
Cut from a different cloth
Cut from a different cloth
All these niggas on my dick
All these bitches on my balls
Cut from a different cloth
Cut from a different cloth
Middle fingers to the fakers
Middle fingers to 'em all

Y'all can hold the applause
I just did what these other
Niggas was scared to do
Tell me life is hard
I'll ask: "What the fuck do
You compare it to?" quarter on the loose
I'm blessed enough that I can spare a few
Told me I'd be dead
The fact I'm breathin' is a miracle
Y'all got Gollum
Listenin' to all these dudes
That y'all call lyrical
Excludin' under conclusion that you
Young and you dumb
If that's how they appear to you
I'd be lyin' if I said
Your words ain't bother me
Be lyin' if I ain't think it
Was trickery or reverse psychology
I came in on Rakim, watched
Y'all take the bar, y'all lowered it
Won't stay in line like a battered wife
Ain't too many spots y'all can go with it
How long y'all gonna febreeze manure
And think the fans won't notice it?
Nah, I ain't get angrier
But the chip on my shoulder did
Not to gloat, if I ain't one of the GOATS
Y'all probably missed my track record
Either that or y'all just ain't
Been keepin' track of records
I've just been waitin' till
That sentiment passed
Y'all ain't even gotta be drunk
To feel this genuine draft
I'm lettin' Benjamins stack
Shouldn't be hard to tell if
The boy is potent
I'm the only time you'll see a
Madman be void of emotion
'Cause they fear me in any
Cypher the hear me in
Only rappin' with Soul for
The outer body experience
So hats off, y'all fit for this
But y'all the type we laugh at
I'm way ahead, and when I aim for yours
Somethin' tells me he won't snap back
All I ever been was a outcast
This time in the moment I moved past that
But the burner name is Jackson
And your alias is Baghdad
BLAT! It's not a game, try to execute
2K'D my old bitch, know I keep a ex to shoot
If anyone tried to do the math
They'd probably be mad as fuck
Said I'd never amount to shit
Now they tryin' to add it up

I don't know about you
Hey I don't know about them
I just do what I do
They just do what they can
They be hatin' on the man
With a knife in their hand
Cut from a different cloth
Cut from a different cloth
All these niggas on my dick
All these bitches on my balls
Cut from a different cloth
Cut from a different cloth
Middle fingers to the fakers
Middle fingers to 'em all