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Who you know rappin' about the sh*t that they think
When nobody else callin' out the shots that they make?
I could drop a song tomorrow and I wouldn't have to borrow
A permission slip like these other rappers you think are great
Who you know turnin' down a couple-hundred grand
From a company that wanted to control your whole brand?
With a five-year deal, everybody's [?]
But I'm in year one, already matched their hand
Who you know rappin' that is their own boss?
Who you know who's pad and the pen is so raw?
Who you know collabin' with their idol (Aah!)
That they got a couple canvases of hangin' on their studio wall?
b*t*h, me! I'm bad wit' it
Disproven what them critics had written, one minute, I'm trash wit' it
Next minute, fabulous
Got 'em goin' back-and-forth, thought they're playin' a game of some badminton, it's madness
My mind is elaborate, so many paths to pick
Travelin' faster, end up where the casket it
Accidents happen whenever I rap
'Cause I'm packin' that heat, like the spice in a cabinet
And I'm too dope like dos hits of cocaine
Flow's gas, I'm only spittin' the propane
It's so sad that rappers thinkin' they so great
'Cause when they compare themselves to me, there ain't no way
Movin' to the side like "Olé!" ("Olé!")
I'm in the fast track, you in the slow lane
Your rap career is like a basket of dirty jackets
Because you got no game

Who you know rap like me?
Who you know spaz on the beat?
Who you know smash every track that he raps on? That's a guarantee?
b*t*h, me! Me!
Who you know pack that heat?
Who you know stack that cheese?
Who you know have no beef with the C-R-Y-P-T?
Me! b*t*h, me! Me
Who you know rap like me?
Who you know spaz on the beat?
Who you know smash every track that he raps on? That's a guarantee?
b*t*h, me! Me!
Who you know pack that heat?
Who you know stack that cheese?
Who you know have no beef with the C-R-Y-P-T?
Me! b*t*h, me! Me

Name another rapper that can do what I do
Sing his f**kin' heart out while playin' guitar too
And drop bars harder that guarding Abdul-Jabbar
And carve through flows like a harpoon (*gasp*)
I'm sick wit' it, this sh*t I spit is ridiculous 'cause I'm quick wit' it
Funny, everyone forgets that I'm equipped wit' the
Gift to spit venom until they listen and
Pick Crypt on they list, b*t*h, I never quit winnin'
I can tell you a story wit' a twist
Rappin' really slow or rappin' really quick
Or rap on any beat, make it sound sick
Got so many clicks, soundin' like a metronome's in this b*t*h
Like "Tick-tick, tick-tick- tock"
Time is up according to my wristwatch
I'm versatile, full of sauce like lasagna
You [?], awful in every genre

*noises of a shovel digging into the ground*

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