So You Think You Can Rap

Chorus: They ask, "So you think you can rap?" I say, "Nah, I know I can emcee." Making a masterpiece Whenever my pen grazes a mead It's official. I showcase in any cypher known I crush the microphone So when them phonies ask me "So you think you can rap?" I say "Nah, I know I can emcee." Making a masterpiece Whenever my pen grazes a mead It's official. I showcase in any cypher known I crush the microphone So when them phonies ask me Verse 1: Can I kick it? Yep, just like the unborn I've sworn to keep you restless till the next morn Forewarning ya'll who got your ACL's torn Your Average Copycat Lyrics can't touch me when I perform Cause I'm far from the norm When the Abstract raps, you cats realize that This Jupiteran be smashing these tracks and eat them like snacks My appetite can't be satisfied My rapping tight also gratifies Your need for greatness that's going places While your skill's stuck on homeostasis Homey your statements nothing to bank on Better be insured by State Farm cause I shank songs When I wreck beats in my wagon, station Packing the Fiyablasta Who's stashing a verbal magnum Attack me then vernacular Is thrashing your adam's apple Chorus: Why ask so you think you can rap Cause I know I can emcee Making a masterpiece Whenever my pen grazes a mead It's official. I showcase in any cypher known I crush the microphone So why them phonies ask me So you think you can rap? Cause I know I can emcee Making a masterpiece Whenever my pen grazes a mead It's official. I showcase in any cypher known I crush the microphone So why them phonies ask me Verse 2: Am I good? When I'm an excellent specialist Impressively setting expectancy for a song's pregnancy They're always banging them with no discrepancy; it's deafening Cause every hit I'm going in, they're screaming loud in ecstasy It's so orgasmic when I start spazzing a labyrinth Of fantastic vocal patterns so naturally it's organic Yet uncontrollable, spasm, and scorching you; it's volcanic And this habits wreaking havoc, so other rappers can't stand it Like they're Elmer Fudd and I'm a wascally wabbit To them, power is one prude girl; they can't tap it But you can call remote cause I have it Flows that go oh so hard while they're flaccid My project could go platinum and yours would stay in the plastic Or getting burned by Fiya; consider this song the matchstick Time to meet your cremator; tell them no need for caskets Tyler, the Creator saying, "He's one case of the baskets" Trashing any biter and writer inciting a fight out of me are defeated indefinitely I squeeze the L-I-F-E from beats and emcees deceived and thinking I'm weak Ain't at my peak, but yet I'm elite so why speak off When I toss your awful pieces in my incinerator The only time I call you an entertainer I know I can rap, but it's abstract so you think it's wack Well I'm Wrecking Horrible Actors, Counterfeit Killers on every track If you don't get it, then rewind time back To notice that I "H" you, like my deadliest catch Threes!