(Intro: Bizarre)
The rap game, hip hop 101
The hardest 9-to-5 you'll ever have
You can't learn this shit in no history book
You ready to rap, motherf**ker?
You ready to sell your soul?
Hahaha, the rap game, motherf**ker!
(Verse 1: Swift)
I'm a disrupted nigga, you made me crazy
You should've slayed me as a baby
Behaving shadier than Wes Craven
And you ain't even gotta pay me
I take pleasure of laying a nigga down daily
You face me, punk, it's over, you'll faint fast
I'm never f**ked up to where I can't whoop yo' ass
Your neck'll get snapped with bare hands; f**k music
Is he rappin'? It's cool, but fools, just don't confuse it
What happens: these dudes get rude, then I lose it
I'm scandalous, I'll blow your two kids off the atlas
With a gat that's bigger than Godzilla's back, nigga
You are not realer, in fact, you'll feel the effects
Of a crack dealer, y'all presidents sends me smack
And got a MAC-10 with it, so I ain't gotta rap
But I'm thankful for that, don't mistaken me, black
Or you'll be stanking in the back of a fucking Cadillac
(Verse 2: Eminem)
I'ma get snuffed, ‘cause I ain't said enough to pipe down
I'll pipe down when the {White House} gets wiped out
When I see that little {Cheney} dyke get sniped out
Lights out, bitch, adiós, goodnight {*gunshot*} (AHH!)
Now put that in your little pipe and bite down
Think for a minute, ‘cause the hype just died down
That I won't go up in the Oval Office right now
And flip whatever ain't tied down upside down
I'm all for America; fuck the government!
Tell that C. Delores Tucker slut to suck a dick
Motherf**ker ducked, what the fuck? Son of a b**ch!
Take away my gun, I'm gonna tuck some other shit
Can't tell me shit about the tricks of this trade
Switchblade, with a little switch to switch blades
And switch from a six to a sixteen inch blade
Shit's like a samurai sword; a sensei
Shit just don't change to this day
I'm this way, still tell that ut-slay itch-bay
Uck-say my ick-day, 'scuse my ig-pay atin-lay
But uck-fay you ig-pay (50!!!)
(Hook : 50 Cent)
This rap game, this rap game
I ain't selling my soul for this rap game
And I ain't digging no hole for this rap game
Man, I'm telling you: no, it ain't happening
This rap game, this rap game
I ain't selling my soul for this rap game
I ain't digging no hole for this rap game
This rap game, this rap game
(Verse 3: Kon Artis)
I bet you'd rather me drink and drown in my own inequity
But fuck that! I'ma rap until y'all all get sick of me
And clutch my nut sack and spit all who pick at me
A pitt and rott mix, f**k the dogs you sic on me
I'm saying you motherf**kers don't know us, quit playing
If I'm broke, then I'm breaking up in the place where you laying
You know, same shit every nigga done in his life
I look at this, why speak on what I want when I write?
So why should I ever fear another man?
If he bleed like I bleed, take a piss and he stand?
Okay, you win, you can say we can't rap, but no Source never made me not buy an album when they say it was wack
(Verse 4: Kuniva)
I walk in that party and just start bustin'
Right after I hear the last verse of "Self Destruction"
This liquor makes me wanna blast the chrome
To let you know the time without Morris Day and Jerome
I'm low down and shifty, quickly call Swifty
To do a drive-by on the tenth speed with 50
You're feeling lucky? Squeeze
I catch you outside of Chuck E. Cheese
With your seed, you be an unlucky G
My lifestyle is unstable: a partying addict
They said, "No fighting in the club" – so I brought me a 'matic
Coughing the static, I jump niggas; call me a rabbit
Popping the tablet and guns that saw you in half with
(Bridge: 50 Cent)
Believe me, we run this rap shit, fo' sheezy
Make making millions look easy
Everywhere you turn, you see me, you hear me
Believe me, before you see my pistol in 3D
No time to call a peace treaty
Dial 911, ‘cause you need the police to help you believe me
(Verse 5: Proof)
I snatch the chalk from the sidewalk and piss on the curb
This is absurd, these street niggas twistin' my words
We finally could say goodbye to Hollywood
‘Cause Proof and Shyne, man, shit, nothing in common
The nastiest band with gats in each hand
We never bow down to be a flash in the pan
No remorse; f**k your stature, dog!
Nothing to do with hands when I clap at y'all
Put your jaw on the ground with the four and the pound
Then I'm gone outta town 'fore the law come around
So we can battle with raps, we can battle with gats
Matter of fact, we can battle for plaques
(Verse 6: Bizarre)
(This rap game…) I'm too f**king retarded
I don't give a fuck about my dick
That's why I'm dating Lorena Bobbitt
My crew had an argument, who was the largest
Now they all is dead and I roll as a solo artist
Plus I made all the beats and wrote all the raps
Well, I really didn't, but I did according to this contract
I was thrown in the snow with nowhere to go
Freezing 20 below, forced to join Bel Biv Devoe
My little girl, she shouldn't listen to these lyrics
That's why I glued her headphones to her ear
To make sure she hear it
If rap don't work, I'm starting a group with Garth Brooks
Hahahaha, 50, sing the hook!
(Hook : 50 Cent)
This rap game, this rap game
I ain't selling my soul for this rap game
And I ain't digging no hole for this rap game
Man, I'm telling you: no, it ain't happening
This rap game, this rap game
I ain't selling my soul for this rap game
I ain't digging no hole for this rap game
This rap game, this rap game