[Verse 1: Chris Ching]
all these haters coming round, tryna ride me up
got their girlies going down bout to tie me up
yeah id like a fat check, you can sign me up
but the labels want me to conform, tryna line me up
almost any given night you could find me drunk
light a dutch cause the clouds are never really high enough
it got me fired up, and now im flying cause
i really cant wait to be king like that lion cub
you to me, man thats kind of like a dime to dub
all these other rappers just fragile like china cups
and its CHI to the N-G,
front and center man I am the MC
Im half white and Im CHI to the N-ESE
so youre getting served like youll find in a Friendlys
Here to stimulate the game no ritalin
all these rappers say the same thing like synonyms
[Verse 2: Real J]
Did you ever learn these emcees can murder,
All beats that you've heard of,
With the heat of a burner,
And with the steez that could easily further,
Their reach, well here you see me.
I ain't greedy, if they feed me exposure, I'll even feast with the
server.
We in this game together.
So if all of us work on our craft [Kraft], we can start cookin' these
beats and make the cheddar.
Watered down the flames, hate can never,
Stop our reign [rain] and claim to change the weather.
So do you actually think that Chris Ching,
And Ink Hollywood, and I would blink?
If you fuckers said that we would sink in the mainstream,
Keep dreamin', cuz we won't even wink.
So suck a dick as big as Pac's six abs,
Kiss ass, lick the broken bits from thick glass!
You'll get your bitch ass kicked fast, quick flash,
Cuz your shit trash, getting smashed in the whiplash!
[Verse 3: IncHollywood]
now
make way for that arrogant, derelect, no comparisons
perishing, with one glare at kids, bury them, with nefarious
various, word experiments, *daring them em to try scarin this*
carrying out it, careful, don't care to win cause you're barely sick
period. so don't touch the belt, bitch
got that new gen touch with that twenty twelve hit like
boom*, my-arsonel-of-weapons elite
I go off, like grime-artists-when-they-step-on-a-beat*
kids too focused on their quality,-but-Barely-lyricists
there's a certain rap bar-to-reach*, you're-scarcely-hittin-it
then fans say I'm obnoxious, fans say I bitch alot
why don't my fans tell me something that my therapist didn't, bitch*
everyone original is Dying fast huh
All your favorite rappers falling off and I'm the last one
well if I learned anything from skypes with Ele-* ( I meant to say fights with Wack fucks, but for some reason I said that...hm..)
it's when these brehs wanna fight, ask y u mad breh*
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