Talking Shit

[Produced by DJ Premier] [Intro] Hey yo, back the fuck back, nigga! I love my niggaaaaaaaaas! STEEZY [Verse 1: Capital STEEZ] (And my niggas love me) Damn, and the saga continues So stand still when I slide on the venue Since middle school been on point with this pencil Respect it, he stay sharper than Ginsus What's on the menu? Crabs in a basket You make it somewhere and they just grabbin' you back in Amateur rappers and their mans wanna battle And turn pale in the face like they last name Jackson I admit, it was early for that We still embarrassin' and damagin' the burliest cats But on a higher note J. STEEZ play keys You can tell by the respect that I have earned in the trap See some say he the hottest in his class The rest talk trash, I acknowledge it and laugh Jockin' on my swag put the product in a bag Since erlenmeyer I learned to put the fire to the flask And came through with that crack spit New to the league straight ballin' off a draft pick You can tell all them amateurs that you rappin' with That I been going rampant since I came into this rapping shit Staying passionate Wrapping my hand around any rapper in my caliber coming after it Don't think they got the pamphlet and the manuscript But every style of art they crafted I mastered it So bow down to your sensei I been paid Young boss since the tenth grade Now I see through flows, like water I'm flyer than C3P0 and Skywalker [Verse 2: Joey BADA$$] Too much west coast dick lickin', too many niggas Gettin' caught slippin', knittin' mittens into kissin' kittens Too many chickens wanna be pidgeons, shittin' over Stadiums, and leave it drippin' on your cranium Too many niggas think they gon' blow like Arabians Thinkin' they gon' eat next like Drake, no Canadian The best in the universe put you in a hearse If I don't get my space like alien, the kid is fire, don't play with him The fam used to baby him because he was the youngest He made a few adjustments and then proved that he wasn't dumbest I keep the fly-est chicks with the flattest stomachs Claim they just wanna get high, but on the low, they be down to suck it And I'm not the one to fuck with, but fuck it Leave the ruckus to a musket if you punk niggas can't take the judgement They love it, do a couple shows and I collect my hundred It barely budge my budget but it ain't nothin' I stay stuntin' They stay frontin' like I'm at the back, rear door Because I'm real though, and I've always been a weirdo nigga A young Caesar but he never kept his hair low The dear flow flows through ear flows explodes earlobes And therefo' I remain the pharoah Sittin' on my royal chair, ho, with a gold-adorned sombrero Came through I jacked the throne, you know the troop style Let's sit em' down, and crown him like a root canal, bitch We some bad ass motherfuckers, nigga