The Ill Spoken, Lip The Kid - The Ill Children lyrics

It really doesn't matter if I ever sell
(Uh, huh)
I'll be your Mike, Michelangelo, shit
Rap's Raphael (yeah)
Sculpture tracks from scratch
What ya think of that? (Yo, yo)
Fuck it
I don't give a fuck what you think of Mac

So where the sky's wonder why
Cats, who lie in raps
Sayin' that they lie in cash
Ya kitchen service
Flippin' burgers down at Mickey D's
I rap like lots of money
And they ain't sick of me
And typically, creativity is how you win
You hit the trees
Moms wanted A's and B's, not C's and D's
You rippin' when you spittin' 'cause
I'm sittin' in the school


But y'all the fools, breakin' rules
Prison isn't cool mistaken me for positive
I'm also 'bout the negatives
I don't get paid to spit, and if you front
Then I'ma egg a bitch i got a grave to dig
'cause cats are tryna come enslave the kid
They wanna be the dude that help me
On the route to make it big
And when I get the cash
They'll want everything I have
But, fuck it, they can keep it
Takin' everything but rap
What you think of Mac
While I kick it back with my L
Yo, , Beedie, spit some rap farewell

And it really doesn't matter if I ever sell
I'll be your Mike, Michelangelo, shit
Rap's Raphael
I just sculpture tracks from scratch
What you think of that? Fuck it
I don't give a fuck what you think of Zack

Hit you with a sneak attack
Yeah, get slapped for speakin' back
Just get beatin' back, you'll be leavin' rap
In the evenin'
We'll be seein' where ya sleepin' at
Me, Beedie, Easy Mac
Ill Spoken, bumpin' Lip The Kid
Come see me rap
He be playin' urban songs, blazin' herbs
And bong
I guess you heard him on that other shit
(Shit) you know it's lucky lips
Board them other ship
He's goin' to space, he's on that rugged tip
The type of places the 300 went (yeah)
Try to harm me
Killin' armies for the fun of it
Talk shit with caution, I'll muzzle it
Leavin' MC's clueless it's puzzlin'
How do we this with no discussion
Pure amusement with my music
Who you fuckin' with?
Ba ba-bop-bop, I'm lovin' it
Ayo, pass that shit, man, let me hit that L
(Yo)

And it really doesn't matter if I ever sell
I'll be your Mike, Michelangelo, shit
Rap's Raphael
I just sculpture tracks from scratch
So what ya think of that?
Fuck it, 'cause I don't give a fuck, ho man

Ayo, it's Beedie Crack, I'm with Easy Mac
We're here to kill you
Hang you upside down until you
Breathin' but you still blue
Leave you in a closet full of mildew
For real, dude
You steppin' on my shoes and I'ma
Have to come and shield you
You fell through, fucked up your enemy plans
On my dick like you tryna get a scent of me
Damn step back, what you tellin' me, man?
'Cause, I ain't tryna hear them words, man
You herbs ain't a friend of me, fam
I never sleep, boy
Sleep is the cousin of death
And I ain't been asleep in weeks
Like I'm duckin' from rest
Eyes lower than my cheeks
When I'm puffin' the
Life's a game, play your cards
I just shuffle the deck
Checkmate, and now you're done
That's the luck of my guess
And if I must bust a head for
Some fuckin' respect, then I will, son
Seven blunts is in me and I'm still spun
Ill son comin' up, I'm still young

And it really doesn't matter if I ever sell
I'll be your Mike, Michelangelo, shit
Rap's Raphael (yeah)
I just sculpture tracks from scratch
So what ya think of that?
(Ill Spoken, y'all know what it is) Fuck it
Get 'em
(yeah, let's go) And it really doesn't
Matter if I ever sell
I'll be your Mike, Michelangelo, shit
Rap's Raphael
I just sculpture tracks from scratch
So what ya think of that?
(Chyeah, holla, Pittsburgh, baby) Fuck it