I'm So Cool

[Verse 1: Akala] Im an emcee first so guess what shithead I can be an arrogant prick too dickhead We all got tugs on the road that spit lead What you choose to promote what’s your intent Man done hundreds of shows no deal Can count countries I been and I still Ill shit kill shit red and blue pill shit Talk sense but tugs still feel shit 14 in coliseum with big women Every other week when the shots kept ringing So parden me if I don’t give a fuck lately But half of these bars emcees wanna spray me Only care if you wanna educate me Or great emcee like Biggie was baby I’ve no response if you hate me Don’t lie to yourself claim that you don’t rate me Who else can make intelligence seem sexy Girls try hard, still can't get me Gotta be a queen, stay select Grown man don’t run when I get a wreck Not any girl that can feel the sweat, heat Push the mind sex and I change the technique Who the fuck, you wanna claim you rep street You ain't out there with the youts and get deep? [Hook: Akala] Im so cool playing the game But I make my own rules I'm so cool stay in your lane Or you'll get took to school Im so cool playing the game But I make my own rules I'm so cool, so cool so fucking cool [Verse 2: Akala] Many man talk shit but they got no talent Everything that I spit classic Known from Sudan to Zimbabwe the hard way Livin’ off the work of the words that the bard spray Teaching my shit in the schools since the first disc What would you think when im there, im a wordsmith In the truest sense of the word have you heard prick It’s a new day absurd with my nerd shit …We know Akala we know that he reads Never run from no guy and see men bleed We all talk tough on the track oh please! You ain't out there on the steet I am not superman You are not superman But I dont need to pretend that I am I’de rather fight with the right foe that has stole land Soul stone cold put a price on your soul man You can take my wisdom for weakness sweetness Don’t belive that ‘turn the other cheek’ shit Fuck Akala with all that deep shit? Please tell me, really whats street shit Italian designers, chilling on the block with you Shot rocks, pop Glocks, hop blocks with you? We own the straps and the scales? Or the fasion sales? Or…just pack the jails [Hook] [Verse 3: Akala] A military mind since back in 04 Who’s relevant from then its oh so poor Emcees come through and the last one sees And im bleeding and breathing the meaning we feel it Don’t want credit for the message I discuss Nuff’ conscious emcees are boring as fuck Credit cos my swag, is fly through the roof A bop when I spit the fire in the booth Credit cos I am the best emcee Oh lord dear god Just flee fuck me! Credit cos I am oh so original You ain't the only bro that knows criminals Don’t shout out my OG’s on the track They’re way too serious for all of that crap Mans that buy yard and (yawnin) in Ghana Might be gangstas but always were fathers Can't rate man that is smuggling parada Cos yout dem a struggle its dumb fuck retarded Few emcees have got the game twisted Don’t be ashamed you’re earnin’ an honest living How many fucked up cos our dad’s in prison And if they were around there would be less killing And if you must die then die for the right cause Die like a muthafuckin man in the right war Die like Toussain Die like Dessaline Die like Malcom Scheming on a better dream Die for your family Die for your Kids home Don’t die for a dumb block that you don’t own [Hook]