Mad Skillz

The Conceited Bastard
Uh, what what? Supafriendz, uh, uh Straight up and down, ain't no comparing me, see Cause I got some shit that'll put y'all motherfuckers Back in freestyle therapy, B I make rappers fall like when school starts, like cheap tissue When you're next to my shit you're getting ripped apart Dissing wack niggas without rehearsal No matter what I say somebody gonna take it personal, so fuck it Your man put down the cheddar, nigga we get the pay-oh I make sure you lose a friend for life and be looking for a way home Get dropped on your rap block without leaving a spot Separate you from the jock, I got plans to make you hot Watch an MC and you rot, nigga these flows is crisp When a mic in my hand bitches is supposed to be like this There's mad niggas that wanna see Mad Skillz slip Yeah you gonna see me slip, past your ass with your bitch in my whip Get a grip, whoever got the itch then I got the scratch MC's wanna get gassed, I feed their ass a lit match All these jealous-ass niggas acting sheisty Better tongue kiss Magic Johnson before they tell me I'm nice But that's aiight, Northside E, conceited times three Come through your town on skis, subtracting MC's Word to Battle be in Lonnie's last name Approach me, all you getting that Plus you getting blown out the fucking frame Letras de cancionesWho the nigga that got a big head when he on the mic, pa? Ask a question, answer me (Bastard, you are) Who the MC that grab the mic and start busting rappers' asses? (You are you conceited bastard) Who be burning beats down leaving you with straight ashes? (You are you conceited bastard) Who's the one who put wack MC's right in their casket? (You are you conceited bastard) Man these fools, they slower than retarded molasass, who the nicest? (You are you conceited bastard) Ayo, these little niggas in the rap game, they straight lame Had diss you in a rhyme, but these niggas be scared to say your name If a nigga say mine, he getting bagged, kid, I'm a be in the Studio whipping his ass before he can finish his fucking ad-libs Taking me out? Stop hoping Niggas always say they gonna do it, it never get done, it's like voting I get it open, rhymes tying into name Simple and plain, I pull rhymes, one ring and one chain I give a fuck about fame, press your luck and quit Mic-wise you realize From Letras Mania