Intro:
It's all bad now man, it's all bad, y'all done f**ked up now!
Yeah! ha ha!! new s**t! ay yo! I just want, the whole world to know
That I did not start this, but I will finish it
Verse 1:
Comin up it never mattered what color you was
If you could spit then you could spit that's it that's what it was
Back when, motherf**kers was straight backpackin
Cipherin, fightin for life in this rap
For the mic to get passed, and you psyched, and you gassed
And you hyped, cause you last, and you might whip some a**
If you lost then you lost, shake hands like a man
And you swallowed it, when the unsigned hype column
In The Source was like, our only source of light
When the mics use to mean somethin a four was like you were the s**t
That was like the least you get
Three and a half now just means you a piece of s**t
Four and a half or five means you Biggie, Jigga, Nas
And Benzino, see I don't even think you realize
You playin with motherf**kers lives
I done watched Dre get f**ked on The Chronic probably cause I was on it
Now you f**ked me out of my mics twice I let it slide
I said I wouldn't hold my f**kin breath to get a five
S**t I was right I'd done f**kin died already tryin
I swear to God, I never lie I bet that's why
You let that b**** give me that bulls**t review
I sat and took it, I ain't look at the s**t we knew
You probably try to f**k with us with Obie and 50 too
(HACK-THO) F**k a relationship we through
No more Source the street credit them days is dead
Ray's got AK's to Dave Mays' head
Every issue there's an eight page Made Men spread
Will somebody please tell whoever braids his head
That I am not afraid of this f**kin waste of lead on my pencil
For me to write some s**t this simple
So listen closely, as I break it down and proceed
This O.G.'s bout to get smoked like ro weed
You don't know me or my motherf**kin mother you motherf**kin punk!!!!
Put me on your f**kin cover just to sell your little mag
I ain't mad I feel bad here's an ad
Here's a poster of Ray Ray and his dad
You wanna talk about some s**t that you don't know about
Yeah, let's talk about how you puttin your own son out there
Then try to eat off him cause you missed your boat
Your never gonna blow, b****, you just too old
No wonder you sore now or what are you bored now
I'm pushin thirty your kickin forties door down
Business is war now and your never beatin me
All you do is cheat me, out of quotables
But you know that you'll always see me, on your tv
Cause you got to stay up till three in the mornin to see your video
Played once on BET, so hehehe who has the last laugh? Aftermath
Yeah, so on behalf of the whole staff, kiss our a**hole cracks
We'll never fold or hold back just know that Benzino's wack
No matter how many times I say his name he'll never blow jack
Your better off tryin to bring RSO back
Look at your track record that's how far it goes back
It's extortion, and Ray owns a portion
So half of the staff up there is fresh out of jail from Boston
Bullyin and bossin, Dave like a slave they completely brainwashed him
And forced him to stay locked in his own office
Afraid of the softest, fakest, wannabe gangster in New York
And it's pitiful, cause I would have never said s**t
If you have kept your mouth shut b**** now what
Hit it Clue, spit it Slay, new s**t exclusive yo Lantern yo Whoo Kid
You know what to do with this use it I'm through this is stupid
I can't believe I stooped to this bulls**t to do this
And who you callin a b****?! b****!!! you owe me!!!
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