Not A Fan

[Intro: Big Shug] Yeah man Not a fan of all that garbage that they got out here man calling it music But there is still a lot of good hip-hop though Some good music out here too So I’ma give yourself melodic, you know what I mean? Big Shug with a couple of friends, feel me Aha It’s what it is Aha Not a fan though of that garbage Check it [Verse 1: Big Shug] Only spitting shit you got to believe You’s about as hood as Drake and Justin Bieb You’s about as real as Hulk and Superman Come to Mattapan, my sons will break your hands Spicy veggies, curry, Pakistan Big Shug reign supreme, I’m still that man You can run if you want to, I’ll blaze your car Nice footwork, you can go dance with the stars Or decay in the trunk of a old stolen car You don’t mean nothing to me, I don’t care who you are One call will still get you stomped in a ball No fronting tough, I done seen it all before If I got beef, trust me, I’ll bring it to your door And chop your ass up like I’m zipping the raw You’s a cop caller, I see in your eyes A snitch dude, the kind to despise So I’ma open my stance with a bat in my hand ‘Cause I’ma send your head to the back of the stands To be bagged and tagged in the back of a van And buried deeply in six feet of sand Yap, yap, yap, I can’t understand You’s a good rapper, but I’m not a fan [Hook: Big Shug] I’m not a fan of yours I’m not hating, all I’m just saying Is I’m not a fan of yours [Termanology] I’m not a fan, man Look that way Fuck out of here with that shit Termanology Shug, what up Uh [Verse 2: Termanoloy] I ain’t a fan of that shit you write, the whips and ice You claim you got, how you play the blocks in Mercedes drives When the truth is you’re going through illusions Sitting in the house full of doubt, it’s confusing You rap about ice, but you ain’t got a chain Claiming you’re a gangster, but you ain’t got a name Rappers nowadays perpetrate how they percolate Man I miss the Raekwon, Ghostface, Purple Tape Man I miss the De La, Gang Starr, Tribe days Now we got a bunch of fake guys coming sideways Looking in the mirror like “really, I’m the realist killer that ever lived” But they never lived how we lived I was raised in the ghetto, can you say the same though? If you never lived like this, you shouldn’t say so The music industry is fake as fuck, the music that they’re making sucks Man I tell you I couldn’t make this up [Hook] [Verse 3: Reks] Cheah I was talking with the legends Hood politicking ‘bout the present state of rap and what you rep ain’t impressing No, I’m not a fan Was dope when you could throw a wack tape in garbage can But now digital iTunes eliminate the physical, goddamn Getting tagged with your BS Radio payola got all the dumbed down rappers grabbing BDS You see me stressed, you see the big homie Shug call Term and Reks Told us aim for the necks Cross dressing emo thugs, transgender sex You can get the one between ring and index Ding ding then flex off the turnbuckle then suplex De La Soul, too complex And with your nonsense bullshit content If I don’t like it, I don’t like it, that’s common sense Mattapan, I salute you, rest in power to the Guru Forever gon’ rep for the true school Word up [Hook 2x]