Fruit Punch

Verse 1: Guilty Simpson I hear a lot of false prophecies, about a lotta emcees Philosophies about these fake Socrates Not to be a hater, but he ain't the savior I got too many layers, the games got way too many players So I slay another rapper, and put 'em on the mantle You lookin' but I'm on another channel Watchin' these sambos puttin' on a show for their handlers Lyin' to the people for the cameras Amateur night, these clowns can't damage a mic So I'm breakin' off the hand that they write with I might sh*t, real weed here takes flight with The price gets better when you bring more cheddar I fight clips, with the strength of the men I'm pissin'' from the ? to the ?, so send 'em in Your style is cinnamon Way to sweet for the streets to be listening' in Michigan Hook 1: The Rockness Monstah Hey you a b*tch ni**a That's right I said it, you a b*tch ni**a (word) You be runnin' round with all types of snitch ni**as I can't mix wicha, you and your inner bitcha Yah you, you a b*tch ni**a Fat b*tch a** ni**a, rub on ya' t*ts ni**a You one of them side switch ni**as (uh huh, uh huh) I can't mix wicha b*tch ni**as Verse 2: The Rockness Montsah Rock not the LL Cool J "I need Love" More like the LL, smoke two J's, I need drugs Addict behavior, ran out & I'm agg-ravated Y'all rappin' this lame shit, I feel like clappin' the stage up No applause and no remorse for rappers that's claimin' they got bars No dem is bras. I laugh in their faces. bitch boy F*ck u threw some D's on it? Rich Boy How those pants tight & they saggin' you sh*t in your draws, didn't you? I will make you break dance on your face scrams Capoeira, slap you hella hard, probably sprain my hand (splocka) You snakes can't hide in my grass Ain't no grass in the PJs, I smoke mine in a wrap I don't drink fruit ni**a I punch fruits Put' generations of little bangers through huntin' school I don't wanna do sh*t wicha Ol' Lifetime channel watchin' butter milk bath takin' b*tch ni**a Hook 2: The Rockness Monstah Hey you a b*tch ni**a That's right I said it, you a b*tch ni**a (word) You be runnin' round with all types of snitch ni**as I can't mix wicha, you and your inner bitcha Yah you, you a b*tch ni**a Fat b*tch a** ni**a, rub on ya' t*ts ni**a You one of them side switch ni**as (uh huh, uh huh) I can't mix wicha b*tch ni**as