The Battle

Yeah, yeah, listen, yo
These hungry rappers battle for a buck and some change
There really be kids starving, give a fuck if it change
Shock rap, not that, you get signed, you might blow up
Release «Party in Iraq», you might blow up
I see you trying to think a few lines you might get at me with
Slap happy with babies who born with crack in they cribs
Too much to cram under your over-sized fitted
And the public school system failed you
Either you’re ig’nant or what is it?
Ain’t concerned with scuff on my sneakers
My demographic listening but not too many rappers teaching
And I find a way to fill a hard drive up
With songs containing mainly «bitch», «ho», «shit», «fuck»
Yo, you know what’s up, there’s some ill shit going on
So long there’s topics that I haven’t really spoken on
I’m just like you, a kid who wants to rap
Get money, put an album out, mansion with a fountain spout
Out in the front yard, sidewalk leading to the street
Which leaves me to speak
My speech reaches the whole world and yet still
I’d rather rap about what I got or what I do to you
If you disrespect, you guessed it, I’m shooting you
But who’s the true villain and who’s illing
Mixtape and gun shot ain’t really killing
People dying, it’s tough luck
Can’t figure out if I’m the problem or the world’s just fucked up