Lyrics
If you step up, to get your rep up
Make sure you act out before you black out
From LA to Krakao, Get your back blown out,
Make me wanna holler sometimes and shout out
When I see models acting like he got clout
Really, he’s a punk with a complex, no doubt
You been jacking on my style for awhile, no doubt
You can have your pile of chips, no doubt
Go ahead, stack ‘em by your fat whips, no doubt
Take your model type R&B chicks
But when you put them in your rap mix, it just doesn’t fit
It doesn’t make you rap any better
It might get you a little cheddar, but in one year, I’ll give you three letters
That’s MIA, that’s missing in action
Like action Jackson, relaxing in some slacks and
But now you’re not rapping, in fact you’re off the rap map and
Now you’re jacking on my style, for awhile
But that’s the breaks in this here rap city
It sounds shitty but maybe nitty and gritty
When you make it to the top of this cold, windy rap city
But bear with me as I take you on a unique journey
About the things I hate, and things I’m yearning and learning
Every single day on these motherfucking streets
So let’s intro to the next instrumental beat
To make hip-hop heads jump around and move their feet
Like a newborn infant when he takes his first look
We think out of the box, we rewriting the book
My tongue is razor sharp, my fangs are full of venom
My eyesight is infared in the visible spectrum
I’m a rattlesnake ready to strike in an instant
Keep your distance, if you blink you’ll probably missed it
From the Brooklyn Bridge all the way to the Golden Gate
We travel the land, carefree, immune to hate
Cause you know we all face one similar fate
So let’s get together all 50 states
So let’s get together all 50 states
Say MOU’s in the house bitch
Get on the mike and scream it out loud bitch
A rap niche that’ll make us rich
Ruling the game, making hits way passed the seven year itch bitch
In fact, we’ll rock until the year 3-G,
That’s the next millennium for you illiterate MC’s.
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