It’s time to open up my book of rhymes Don’t make me happy so I think it’s time To read between the fucking lines The feelin’ fucked me up but it ain’t no crime Every bar (and) every line didn’t work out but I made it mine (aye) I keep dodging the past but it keeps chasin’ my ass Then I start to relax (and) kind of adapt I got my heart on the tracks but shit keeps holdin’ me back But I gained the feelin’ I lacked (so) instead of putting out trash imma take this shit to the max I got my pen and the pad hop on this beat and I spazz It’s like I’m doin’ the dash (I) got my foot on the gas (Yeah) I was down on my last just tryna focus on cash So I’m jottin’ these bars that hit ya mind like a crash (aye)
Ja jestem rap Od zawsze ziom Dawaj wszystko co masz Dlaczego się chowasz Nie jestem sam Jest zemną rap To jest wszystko co mam I wszystko co kocham Nie chciałem cię ranić Nie robię tego za nic Musiałem sobie zwalić Skończyć z tobą Bez panik sam odpalił palnik Odejść swoją drogą Choć czasem żal mi Co zostało pod nogą Jesteś ku jak samolyk Polykaz na połyk Pociągnął za spust pociągnie każdego z armii Mnóstwo
I don't smile, I don't frown, get too up or get too down (nah) I was here, so were you, you came and went, I stuck around (yeah) Still here now, stop me how? Your opinion's like a broken calculator That shit doesn't count Shut your motherfuckin' mouth I'm emptyin' (I'm emptyin') my book of rhymes (my book of rhymes) Get 'em all off my pad, every thought that I had I said I'm emptyin' (I'm emptyin') my book of rhymes (my book of rhymes) Get 'em all off my pad (Yeah), every thought that I had Haven't used all the tricks I have So like my balls, I'm in my bag (my bag) Get a little teste when I'm mad (I'm mad) Sick of wrestling this iPad (iPad) Unsuccessfully, I might add And I know it's bеst to leave it lie But even I get obsessed with reading everything And let it get the best of me 'til I snap ('til I snap) But I need to get off the internet (get off the internet) I need to get on the mic (get on the mic) You need to get off the internet (internet) You need to get you a life Why you waste time just to comment on shit? (Comment on shit) Especially shit you don't like (shit you don't like) Don't like it, don't listen But don't tell me 'bout your favorite rapper rippin' Some shit he didn't write (shit he didn't write) What happened to Slim? He was no cap with the pen He used to rap like the people his music was for He was exactly like them The dude who used to be poor, why can't he tap into him? Can't use that excuse anymore He's mad at the wind, he's in a nuclear war With a cloud, he's yellin' at it again I talked to your mother, she told me she loved me All she wanna do is just hold me and hug me Wants nobody but me, she showed me the Dougie Can I get a witness like notary public? (Preach) She said, "Kick some fly shit" (fly shit) I said, "I got wings on my ass" (wings on my ass) Told her my dick's a cockpit (dick's a cockpit) I fly by the seat of my pants (seat of my pants) Sinful thoughts, this beat is crazy, this shit's retarded This instru's mental (this instru's mental) to mini-bars, incidental charges When did it start? I been cold-hearted in this heart since kindergarten Mental sharpness which makes Slim a walking dentist office Bitch, I invented flossin' Yeah, I used to wonder (I used to wonder) Where my next meal's gonna come from (meal's gonna come from) Now, I just wonder (now I just wonder) Where my next mill's gonna come from (mill's gonna come from) I cannot have no success (have no success) Unless when I finally make it (finally make it) I get to remind all the haters (remind all the haters) Who shitted on me when I'm on my way up (I'm on my way) My floor is y'all fool's ceilings If I was you, I would step or find yourself twisted That's how you'll wind up like spiral stairs I will swear on a stack of Bibles I will tear new behinds out of rivals, even your idols, I don't care It's Music to Be Murdered By So Bon Iver can swallow a fuckin' Ja Rule bobblehead And die slow like Alzheimer's (ha-ha) Lone sniper, I hold a microphone like a loaded rifle My dome's brighter, all I spit from my skull's fire All that's missing's a motorcycle with the chrome wires, spoke tires And y'all are flow biters, so I don't gotta Explain why they call me your ghostwriter I'm emptyin' (I'm emptyin') my book of rhymes (my book of rhymes) Get 'em all off my pad, every thought that I had I said I'm emptyin' (I'm emptyin') my book of rhymes (my book of rhymes) Get 'em all off my pad, every thought that I had (Illa) Haven't used all the tricks I have, so like my balls, it's in my bag I tend to get a little testy when I'm mad But gift of gab and pen to pad turn temper tantrums into anthems Put lips to ass and kiss the cracks, spit your damnedest You're still gonna hit the canvas Rippin' rappers, veterans to whippersnappers Mr. Mathers is killin' this shit, villainous wit with scant less Syllables rip the planet, biblical shit's fittin' to hit the fan Anybody wanna go tit for tat's gonna get hit with that Then the amygdala hippocampus is gonna trigger the ignoramus To think of the most ridiculous shit to spit then Pit it against these pitiful rappers Insidious, these idiots wittiest shit against me shitty as MC Hammer's Get your whole squad, send a task force in If you want it, you're 'bout to get what you asked for then Put your helmet on, strap your chin You're 'bout to get you a crash course in Who not to start a motherfuckin' rap war with Or to go against, fuck would you wanna do that for? No offense, but are you retards slow or dense? A fuckin' penny has more
Yeah, now you gotta get killed But it's not a big deal, but every thought is so ill And so methodical, thought I swallowed a pill I'm starting to feel like I'm an automobile With Barnacle Bill inside the car at the wheel Inside a carnival 'Cause I'm plowin' into everyone who wrote snidey articles And that explains why the fuck you clowns are all in my grill Joy and pain, fortune, fame, torture, shame, choice I made Swore someday the world would pay less to lose More to gain, daughters raised Yesterday, glory days, adored and praised, ignored the hate Addressed the fake, toured with Dre, tore a page from Jordan came Destroyed the game before you came, enjoy your stay Before it's gone away But the more you claim that you're gonna point and aim If it joined a gang, your shit isn't going to bang You're just boring, lame and more of the same You have an enormous chain, but a stormless brain The most you can form is rain Your shit is pointless, same as a scoreless game So, bitch, quit lyin', you're denyin' like Mr. Porter's name Borderline bipolar disorder since my stroller Eyes rollin' back in my skull like Eli Porter Fire mortar (brr) rounds, Ayatollah, every iota I load up I owe to my motor mouth This is my note to self Sometimes you're gonna bomb So you just might have to blow yourself up with no one's help I just wrote it down in my book of rhymes Preemo, take us out Writin' in my book of rhymes My book of rhymes, my book of rhymes I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm eastside Writin' in my book of rhymes My book of rhymes, my book of rhymes I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm eastside
