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Yeah, it's haterama... heh, so fuck you. So many faggots to swing the axe at who do I shoot first? Answer when I make this dead cow feel my boots hurt whoever's standin' as part of the human pavement quit as advanced tryin' to rap "the movement's faded" feel like I stuck it in shit sold you all the bugginist shit even bob beetle says "fuck it I quit!" KCR shit me out but you knew that reflect your crew back, to that late nineties beat (voices: "whodat??") the shit they shoot at... the biggest pop star in the world threw dirt in my engine but when I say his name I look like Royce tryin' to get attention I know the ledge a hundred ten stories you been showered the only thing that got hit from New York was the twin towers it's only right my raps reflect evil my only way to trade places with them 3000 dead people hindsight Halloween you begged to open up daddy's lex coked it up, on stage chokin' up dropped the mic and left kids arrived a hour later cuz the opening acts bore me specially them coward haters eight jack and cokes 7L's gettin' lucky get to the side of the stage these groupies tryin' to touch me Letras de canciones(muffled voices... "weatherman comin' through, yeah I love that shit") What was that? bugs hit winshields harder than that wasted Ludolph rap could've been through harvard and back I know you saw a key I sold one Beantown you're senile wastin' all your label's cream now tryin' to get violent but gay is gay the same day new yorkers were served more than j of jay you got no respect but I give it you don't get it what toy ass crew can't be the paramedics too many cards showing did you know how to play the game? throwin' up consecutive bricks like it's your label's name oops, I guess it is... fuckin' stick to the kegs your team probably frontin' like they ain't on my dick in your face end your career, shit ain't even started clean up your style help out Lif he holdin' your whole scene up You seen the sweat on his face that's ho I know you ain't sweat like that since you sent El-P a demo and his slang is outdated like "look I'm butter now" you fatherfuckers still drown in my watered down True, me and your producer got a past beef either his girl sucked my dick or I wouldn't rock to his trash beats boast, look girls your health's vital cop the nighthawks album bitches self-titled played your boys idle every tonight will seem like you and the cops are tight chewed up your ankles cuz your socks are white (* muffled voices *) From Letras Mania