Everythang

[Hook] Money from the trap house, beef pull the Macs out Stuntin’ pull the 'llacs out In case you cats doubt I’m don’ everythang I rap about And that’s on everythang Standin’ on the club couch On the corner thugged out, bitches pull they tongues out When we pull them one’s out I’m doin’ everythang I rap about And that’s on everythang [Verse 1] Every time I rap, I leak a joint on the Internet First in the fans say that Crooked I kill a jet Firin’ squad, blindfolded cigarette Smoke an instrumental, then I’ma chew a Nicorette Hard bars in effect, rappers livin’ in my shadow Watch ‘em charge rent for my silhouette I’m the illest, I ain’t met no one iller yet Workaholic, I ain’t even met my pillow yet You in your prime when you rhyme where you at Maybe it’s time for your label to sign a new act The average person’ll blink seventeen thousand times a day I spit a rhyme every time you do that Add REM to that, you got Crooked I You don’t want none of that You know where my gun is at If bullets rain to your brain, man it’s just a fact Unless your name boomerang, you ain’t comin’ back [Hook] [Verse 2] This industry is full of way too many lames They know who they are, ain’t gotta say too many names It’s like they on the benches now Shootin’ from downtown in forth down They playin’ way too many games But I don’t play though; G’s molded me like some Play Dough And still I’m feelin’ as philosophical as Plato I ain’t hatin’ on you other artist’s music Tried to dumb down, guess I’m too smart to do it Maybe I go somewhere and think of a dance That’ll be the same day I rock a crease in my pants Rather tell a bank teller better meet my demands Put the cash in my palms or have a beast on your hands I’m the type of dude to put you in an ambulance If it’s beef, I’m shootin’ at QD3’s cameraman Go ahead, stick your chest out fam-a-lam This ain’t a mammogram, hold up [Hook] [Verse 3] When I’m spittin’ I hope you findin’ the art When I’m rhymin’ I’m minin’ for diamonds, I shine in the dark I’m a neurologist slash cardiologist I’ma touch your mind and your heart I feel like I’m designin’ the Arc Bullshit is floodin’ this rap world We lost like that Black Girl in Nas’ song All Eyez on Me You claim to be live, well you got some nerve You ain’t a title beat rider You not superb This east side’ll reach higher Fresh out the deep fryer, so you know each line is too hot to serve You rock with herbs, retire Leave while you got your cry peace by Do not disturb Who got the urge to be nicer when I’m speakin’ I’m tryna remind you of 2Pac with words This is Machiavelli’s retaliation Bring the blues to your house, quicker than Live Nation [Hook]