Killer Mike, El-P - Butane (Champion’s Anthem) lyrics

(yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Looking for the truth, yeah it's me
Everything Polo to the floor though
Even at the grocery store though
Picture perfect, take a photo
And take the pic you biting bitch
And sew and stitch a logo
(yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Hit you with the quatro, but my girl Mercedes
With the Audi say that Quatro was
A two door so a typo
You can put on Killer Kill, Fat Boy
Or just Michael call me what you will but
Still never call me rival
They will call you dead and
I will call you gone the Lord, sweet Jesus
Will be weeping calling your ass home
If underground rap royalty is what
I’m meant to be then I will be the shit and
You ain't shit to me

We the ones, we the winners, we the champions
Champagne at the end of our campaign
Spit fire, naked truth like the blue flame
Like the blue flame (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Let me see your hands up if you do the same
Caught the plug and we bolt like Usain
More money, more power, more butane
Burn the motherfucker down, down

Life's a bitch so I mack on her immaculate
I don't wear no monkey watches
Rolex is too accurate
My rhymes are actually accurate
Meaning I don't fiction in my diction
To the masses, this perfection is performed
Through many practices
Like prostitutes to mattresses
This shit just come naturally
Easy as Osama’s bombers takin many casualties
Like Columbine I’m down for mine I’m
Here to kill the faculty
Killin them or killin me
This is my soliloquy
Iller than the illest beat
I will spit the illest shit
From right here to infinity
Till I reach the dirt
I will search the earth endlessly
Looking for the illest, see
Ain’t nobody lyrically as ill as me
'less Eazy-E come back from AID…S yes
Get a beat from E-L-P
Ghostwritten from my partner TIP
Cube and me and we time travel back to '95
Jumping in a '63 Impala playing Cuban Linx

Yo Mike they fucked up
Putting us together man

Yo, I'm a Grinch with a grin
I will shit on your kids
Get a life, get a grip, get
A hold on my dick, bitch, make a wish
I'm a knife
I'm nothing-that's-nicer-than-getting-sliced-up
The switch, the machete to feti
Yeti to shyster
Icer, getting-closer-to-Christ
Ya' might just
Find that the design of your life is
An angel hair short of divine love i stink
I just stuck up a truck that said Brinks
I'm a Sphinx, snorted so much that
My nose just broke off, think
I’m alone again
Clutching a loaded Glock soaked in chromium
Hoping that the thought police just don't
Bust in my home again
Life is tough, you'll get
Snuffed in the buff, so dystopian
Ruff ruff
Hear the call of the copper mutts on the hunt
What the fuck
This is not what my mother said I'll become
Star-spangler wranglers got my hopes
On the run getting closer now
Maybe our society's supposed to drown
Middle fingers up on the Titanic
As it's going down