Intro

[Verse 1] Great Scott, jeepers Only thing that changed was my crates got deeper Big shoes to fill, word to Aesop's sneakers Supposed to be with Jux But I just don't give a fuck, what the fuck is I'm supposed to do? Bills don't pay themselves, on the shelf's where they kept me at Left D. Swain for dead, so I said "I'm bringin' sexy back" And by "sexy" I mean that real shit That "supposed to have a deal, so what's the deal" shit How real is this? But I ain't really got no time for the sad songs, my harmonica is empty I'm just tryin' to get ahead, Monica Lewinsky Took matter in his own hands like a physicist Look at him, he's his own man, I can live with this Never really been the type to fret I just forget and get beats off my chest But please excuse me if I sound perturbed Cause half of you clowns is nerds that beat off to West Who's gassin' you niggas son? How can haters stand there and say I sound like him? Hell no Kick rocks, bitch; Timb boots, Vans or shell-toes Or them joints with the velcro, diabetic jump-offs You still comparin' me in 2008? You chumps lost Pocketful of gems But y'all was way too occupied comparin' me to him that y'all missed the boat Missed the train, yes D. Swain was overlooked So I'm on the flight home, the game is overbooked Everybody rap now son How can I compete when Everyone's a hustler and I'm just a producer Chokin' on these vocals, Heimelich maneuver At war for half my life sometimes the mind can trick the trooper Into thinking that his shine is just a blooper Of course it feels just like a fluke whenever I get press but let's be honest I'm killin niggas right now, word to Jeffrey Dahmer Every honor, every accolade accumulated You have hated, never really givin' me props So tell me when the ignorance stops Feelin' like Jay in '95 or 'Ye in '03 Today is the day that I broke free And stand on my own two I guess I need to do what I need to do Tell me how YOU'D feel if no one believed in you Made it to the majors, eight months later Still can't get an article in Fader, what the fuck? Niggas act like I don't even exist, you believe this shit son? (I do have SOME fans though) My demographic's all over the place Kids like it when I keep it clean, sort of like an organized book shelf Plus I'm 24 and I look twelve, so that helps Player Of The Year, win more awards than Matt Phelps I put it down for the eclectic crowd The sexually-depraved and those that shout their expletives loud And rock their Danny necklaces proud, a Dan fan forever These jealous rappers make it rain but can't stand the weather They bitin' off everything I do now son All I ever wanted was shine, but they gave me a dimmer Tried to throw me overboard and I ain't even a swimmer Having talent ain't enough, it isn't fair They say you gotta be ground-breaking just for niggas to care So this is my last album This is my last volume This here's the last dance, meet my ass in the ballroom [Bridge: Kid Syc] D. Swain, you gotta lighten up my man You know what I'm sayin', relax a lil' bit At the end of the day it's just music [Danny!] You right, you right Hey bring that beat back [Verse 2] Uh Check the lyrics I drop like Papoose from Jive 'Til the year that I stop, you'll never hear that I'm not super fly Cause fear it or not, you're gonna cop Two or three copies cause got-dammit I'm here and I'm hot, do or die Delirious thoughts, niggas get lost, brutalized Who am I to complain? Committin' career suicide "Just make the music Danny, please shut the fuck up Nobody wanna hear you complain about the game We know, we know: you're overlooked, you wanna blow But oh, you're so dramatic Let these little niggas have it" The gloves is off, the love is done I ain't in it for the spinach like THESE niggas, I do it for fun For sport, from the soul so you know it's real I'm just tryin' to give you somethin' you can feel ...been spittin' that fly shit, waaaaay before the deal, uh