Lyrics
[Verse 1]
When I rap, I try to rhyme my lines with three words
"Please, my knees hurt" is a plea heard (She’s scurred!)
Please her? Nah, she keeps squeezin' on deez
Love ceases to exist like peace in the mid-east
So back off my nuts cuz I ain't only about that
Maybe once more, but make sure that the drought's back
Go run and tell your friends how you sucked a star
Now I'm broke; my raps sell at a buck a bar
Cuz mad cats pretend like they ain't feelin' my spit
Though they got all my songs and they sealed wit a kiss
Then they pass my raps back to me; act like it matters
But see, exact tracks is a latter form of flattery
I wish I could quit rap and just go back
To when I was punked just for buyin' a throw back
But fans keep demandin' new tracks to be handed
So I stand and deliver some slams below the liver
Remember the days before algebra was heard of
When every kid in the city had my songs turned up
You couldn't go a week without soundin' my new track
Always heard comments like, "How is this Jew black?"
[Chorus]
Givin' up ain't easy, you gotta believe me
I said I'm done before; gotta walk out that door
I give up, I give up, I give up, now
I give up, I give up, I give up, now
Y'all bringin' me under, just gotta surrender
Pressure building; feeling's healing; gotta steal your splendor
I give up, I give up, I give up, now
I give up, I give up, I give up, now
[Verse 2]
Shakespeare knew what he was doin' when he screwed in a few loose ends
So my view is this: the newest clips is skewed around his brewing
I was too intent in pursuin' a debut of my doing
Who knew that I would glue together two clues that just flew in
He had verses and sonnets; soliloquies, I was on it
I just wanted to spawn a verse but cursed at the vomit
So I took the A.B.A.B. and expanded off that wit
Back to back to back, my tactic slapped a hat trick
I got outta the gutter and put my talent to use
I see a kid in the streets who wanna be gallant, too
And the will is this ill is not to kill you with skill
His pen is still until he drills a thrillin' piece of-
But he don’t gotta chance; hopes and cares disappear
I sincerely fear it's clear he'll never get into gear
It seems he's between leanin' towards some screamin' and a tear
He's gotta stay clear fore you get to thinkin' he's a queer
Then he hears these violent specks of heckles from the crowd
He wrestles with himself like Hyde and Jeckyll used to cloud
He expects to be respected like a misdirected clown
But I vow now never to let you get me down
Moral of the story is I'm already history
Tomorrow we'll quarrel cuz you was already sick of me
So I make a couple mil, but it ain’t about the cash
It's about the stress pimples that all sprout on your ass
They there cuz of me and I don't wanna hear different
Cuz when I'm on the mic, I'll be sincere and not shiftin' it
So I don't wanna hear it when this record your dissin'
Cuz I give up now for good--it’s the second edition
[Chorus] (2x)
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