Champion Remix

[Verse 1] I'm a trend setter with a wicked vendetta Been feather, venomous, skeleton shredder, theres never been better Plus my fourth to the tenth letter rip Heads quick, you little chick, that deliver get a little glimpse at a Ugly charmer, gentlemen caller Sending them all to hell in a milk crate Forest Whitiker dictate You need to get the dick out your intake You toilets in a gay bar, never gettin' your shit straight They'll never find diamonds, as bright as my eyes When I find where my competators hide And then I slice 'em, Brother Ali, mean muggin MC Is going toe to toe with 'em, stand nose to nose with 'em My flow fo' sho' hit 'em I thought especially, one word that I speak at a show could blow the whole system Thats word from the big bad, fat ass, motherfucking, Brother Ali Ugh... [Hook] You're now rockin with the champion You know you're in a war that can't be won You need to stop and understand me, son Cause I got a pocket full and I can hand you some You're now rockin with the champion You know you're in a war that can't be won You need to stop and understand me, son Cause I got a pocket full and I can hand you some [Verse 2] I'm chokin players like I'm Bob Knight, choke the coaches like I'm Spreewell They bowin to the 'Sayers till they knees swell Shake the game up worse than Single White Females Walkin to they car alone flashin three bills These little kids are talkin 'bout how little I know Boy, I grab a mic and rock you like your Triple 5 Soul With a civilized flow, but if you say my name I'm like Beetlejuice Dice you up and slap you till your teeth are loose I've seen the noose and will not get lynched by the industry Nor will I have a A&R pimpin me stickin his thing in me I'd sing for free for some years if it's clear to me That if I'm there for my team they're there for me For real, I be diligently killin the soliloquies Of these milipeads that try to pass themselves off as ill MC's I weave a web of words so intricately That the English dictionary lacks an adjective to fit me If he want my album tell him not to fuck with ATAK He was hatin and Slug told em "(Slug)Bitch to send our tapes back" And if I lose my voice then instead of sayin raps I start paintin facts on the wall with hot crayola crayon wax [Hook] [Verse 3] No No No I wasn't lyin 'bout them muthafuckin hairy hands Well how you think I tear a man till he can barely stand? I share the land with hustlers hollerin my chorus back I'll do anything for the cats that show support like that When I battle they hold my back, y'all most be smokin crack Guys are screamin, "I ain't supposed to rap," come on, you know you're wack These Minnesota cats touch down in places where it's dormant at Bring they muthafuckin trophies back I'm like big up my man Optimus Prime I'm like what the fuck do rappers got in they mind? I might jump on the stage and start hollerin rhymes Maybe bend your back around and make you swallow your spine It's clear you ain't seen no one this tight in years When I sing I can bring Brian McKnight to tears I have to consume, shit I capture a room And before my son was born I made him dance in the womb MC's put up your titles, I be grabbin em soon Them rappers are doomed, worse than breathing hazardous fumes Like 'Bam!' (There it is...) [Hook]