the last lyricist
Singer:papoose
it's a time for martyrs now
as the rap game that's in a crisis
record sales continue to decline
and cats got confused on what's real hip hop
we got the real live spitters in the game of rap!
all you dudes say you nice
where my lyricists at?! where my lyricists at?!
where the fuck you niggas at?! where the lyricists at?!
i could carry the weight of pun
and jack every single beat that jam-master jay spun
i'm the lyrical son of rakim
the jab of bernard hopkins
the voice of b.i.g. and pac overlooked by johnnie coch-aran
the monster in these niggas
that be posterin i'm robbin 'em in a whip they girlfriend drivin 'em
i'm butter without the margarine
the crack without the sizzle
the rain without the drizzle
the hammer without the chizle
the baller without the dribble
i bibble babble have the spit and flip the rip the chain that shackles
had to fight and grapple and tackle the rotten apple
i traveled from camden and met the drama king at the tabernacle
gave me the juice like a snapple
ran with it like the olympics
encrypted my signature on templets for the cake like krimpets
knock a troy to armageddon
lyrical prophet the hip hop heavens
raised by latin florida evans
we got the real live spitters in the game of rap!
all you dudes say you nice
where my lyricists at?! where my lyricists at?!
where the fuck you niggas at?! where the lyricists at?!
no lyrical content just typical nonsense
my mental too complexed to listen to garbage
every lyric i palm breast he grippin a large tek
and killin you god bless that shit is too far fetched
givin you are a threat then live it don't talk mess
niggas in projects ain't feelin you more or less
this hittin your heart yes you miserable or stressed
get rid of you y'all sets
pitiful process with spirits that's part flesh
we rip through your small chest with critical objects
nigga you waan test the general confess
i'll injure you frauds best in criminal contest
no killa you harmless my birth involves death
umbilical cords wrecked my little unborn neck
before i get all dressed in greens and oppress
and walk through the yards vexed i rather graveyard rest
we got the real live spitters in the game of rap!
all you dudes say you nice
where my lyricists at?! where my lyricists at?!
where the fuck you niggas at?! where the lyricists at?! rah!
contiene mal aliento i'll kill you tomorrow
playin with papoose like i ain't the rap truth
i'll kill 'em in that booth you doubt it go ask booth
they started laughin but man this the deuce that killed bruce
torture and ridicule these pitiful rappers
with the flow that's enormous
my swagger and stage performance
the corners i sold to foreigners
they zoners tryin to extort us
the coca i dropped in waters
supporters i'm crossin borders
papa blessin me with orders
i never move like the tortoise
i rather move like the testarossa
eat like i'm in ponderosa
i'm shittin on all these chokers
we got the real live spitters in the game of rap!
all you dudes say you nice
where my lyricists at?! where my lyricists at?!
where the fuck you niggas at?! where the lyricists at?!