Papoose, Busta Rhymes, Big Lou - The Last Lyricist lyrics
[Papoose, Busta Rhymes, Big Lou - The Last Lyricist lyrics]
As the rap game that's in a crisis
Record sales continue to decline
Record labels are mergin
And cats got confused on what's real hip hop
We got the real live spitters
In the game of rap!
All you dudes say you nice
But you niggas is wack!
Where my lyricists at?! Where
My lyricists at?!
Where the fuck you niggas at?!
Where the lyricists at?!
I could carry the weight of Pun
Ressurect Big L's lungs
And jack every single beat
That Jam-Master Jay spun
I'm the lyrical son of Rakim
The jab of Bernard Hopkins
The voice of BIG and Pac
Overlooked by Johnnie Coch-aran
The KRS-One doctrine
The monster in these niggas
That be posterin I'm robbin 'em in
A whip they girlfriend drivin 'em
I'm butter without the margarine
The crack without the sizzle
The rain without the drizzle
The hammer without the chizle
The baller without the dribble
The scribble Scrabble, the Writer's Block
I bibble babble have the spit and flip
The rip the chain that shackles
Had to fight and grapple and
Tackle the Rotten Apple
I traveled from Camden and met the
Drama King at the tabernacle
Gave me the juice like a Snapple
Ran with it like the Olympics
Encrypted my signature on templets for
The cake like Krimpets
Move Atlantis, I Am Legend
Knock a Troy to Armageddon
Lyrical prophet the hip hop heavens
Raised by Latin Florida Evans
We got the real live spitters
In the game of rap!
All you dudes say you nice
But you niggas is wack!
Where my lyricists at?! Where
My lyricists at?!
Where the fuck you niggas at?!
Where the lyricists at?!
No lyrical content just typical nonsense
My mental too complexed to listen to garbage
Every lyric I palm breast he
Grippin a large tek
And killin you God bless that
Shit is too far fetched
Givin you are a threat then
Live it don't talk mess
Niggas in projects ain't feelin
You more or less this hittin your heart yes
You miserable or stressed
Get rid of you y'all sets
Finish your squad next
Pitiful process with spirit's
That's part flesh we rip through your small
Chest with critical objects
Nigga you waan test the general confess
I'll injure you frauds best
In criminal contest
No killa you harmless my birth involves death
Umbilical cords wrecked my little unborn neck
Before I get all dressed
In greens and oppress
And walk through the yards vexed
I rather graveyard rest
We got the real live spitters
In the game of rap!
All you dudes say you nice
But you niggas is wack!
Where my lyricists at?! Where
My lyricists at?!
Where the fuck you niggas at?!
Where the lyricists at?! RAH!
Totalos tiempo
Contiene mal aliento I'll kill you tomorrow
Playin with Papoose like I aint the rap truth
I'll kill 'em in that booth you
Doubt it go ask booth slay gave me the dice
I hit 'em with the deuce
They started laughin but man this
The deuce that killed Bruce
The most original, lyrical criminal
Leave you in critical
Torture and ridicule these pitiful rappers
I'm cynical with the flow that's enormous
My swagger and stage performance
The corners I sold to foreigners
They zoners tryin to extort us
The coca I dropped in waters
Supporters I'm crossin borders
Papa blessin me with orders
I never move like the tortoise
I rather move like the Testarossa
Eat like I'm in Ponderosa 2008 Keyser Sosa
I'm shittin on all these chokers
We got the real live spitters
In the game of rap!
All you dudes say you nice
But you niggas is wack!
Where my lyricists at?! Where
My lyricists at?!
Where the fuck you niggas at?!
Where the lyricists at?!