Reef the Lost Cauze, K-Beta, AKIR - Bosses lyrics

This right here is to pay homage
To all the forefathers who taught us that
Talent get you farther than revolvers
It's an honor to be here
Especially surrounded by this garbage
They made to steadily try to bombard us
They gettin zooted on they own stardust
I'm suited up like Spartacus
Back up on my rebel army shit
Strapped up, full of clips, back up
Hear them spit flame cannons doin' damage
Can you manage harder hit's?
This is that honor shit
All my niggas that started this
We do it from the heart with this
The industry try to starve the kids
And make our music so hard to flip
Promotin' for opponents
To lock the kids up in them bars to clip
Homo celebs stickin dick in male orifices
Instead me and Reef runnin up in your offices
So cut all your losses, kids
We burnin down the industry nigga you next
We wanna know who the bosses is

In this day and age my wrath is like a plague
I married this bitch
Y'all niggas is still engaged
The reason I came - what the
Game now needs in it's veins
This is our season of reign
I'm releasin' your reins
I respect you, yeah, you got a rep, true
But, I done put in my time, homie, I'm a vet
Too
Not a pet doc, you heard what I said, pops
I'm young and hungry, old head
You'll get your head chopped
I know better, I spit harder and flow better
We open for yo old ass
And rip the show better
When it comes to music
I give you props for what you did
Not what you're doin
All I'm sayin is y'all need to fall back
Same faces been around for years
Now they all wack
I'm that bold with it, I'm that cold with it
Been spittin since '88, I'm that old with it
So fuck you old critics
Keep your lips locked
You did your thing with it, but dog
You don't own Hip-Hop
Fuck you old critics, keep your lips locked
You did your thing with it
But you don't own Hip-Hop

Fuck you old critics
We ain't here to share with y'all
Just sit your old ass down
And drink some Geritol fuck you old critics
We ain't here to share with y'all
Just sit your old ass down
Low tolerance, it makes no kinda sense
Common attempts to show dominance
The whole lot went along with it
With a collective middle finger
To all critics
Get a perspective, why these kids receptive
To what goes over your head
- live and let live
That's right - over your head
Not beneath you see, it's you seekin' that
Which don't seek you
They don't need you to know who's cool
Refuse to play by the old school rules
Old school blues, the newest sounds
Grate the ears of old folks losin ground
Hate to hear what provokes dudes who hear it
And get a injection of youthful spirit
Whether or not the message will
Astound or move you
We gets down with or without approval
And thick crowns on the heads of new kings
Broke tradition, ready to do things
This way better than that way
The past way a rap way
Past the last day sadly
A trap may lie behind, seein me is more
Than a prize, a choice between 3 doors