Battle Cry

[Verse 1: Joell Ortiz] How many times I gotta tell y'all I'm second to none? No magazine's top ten cause I'm negative one So I don't pay attention to them dumb folk Cause I'mma always be in first like the clutch broke I'm from where the cut-throats cut coke Cause school ain't cut it, they cut out to puff smoke And guess what? That's who I hang with So when you speak Industry, I don't know the language But play a beat and I'll show you why I'm head honcho Y'all gettin' away with murder like the white Bronco Bunch of trash in-between hooks Bars too cute to be gettin' all these mean looks Put the hottest rappers all on one stage together See who'll hold they arm up like Che Guevera I rhyme hotter and I say it better I'mma win the Cold War: I'mma product of the Reagan Era Dave Dinkins of the page inkin'' My 16s free y'all, I'm Hip-Hop's Abe Lincoln Fam I don't know what they thinkin' These niggas got me fucked up like I spent all day drinkin' I'm a boss, not a loss yet You're little lemons in a race with a souped-up Corvette I'm so hot I could stand still and pour sweat In the North Pole, fully naked with my balls wet I'm a monster - these other niggas small pets Claim they sick, but they get cured by your dog's vet I'm thorough from my Yank' to my Gore-Tex You're bluffin', I play poker - I'm callin' all bets Local boy, when's the last time you all left? I don't even know where the fuck I'm goin' on tour next Last month Canada, before that? Europe I had waffles out in Belguim, you ain't had syrup Every time I write, it's another flight Another whore with my kids on her underbite Another "YAOWA!" I chant when I touch the mic Another magazine spread, yeah you fuckin' right I'm on my grind like a pair of in-line skates Get on tracks and go bananas like a primate Baboon, gorilla, chimpanzee, a wild ape King Kong when he escape, I'm 'bout to skyscrape But the sky ain't the limit I could teleport through my mind any minute Take you to a place where the lions go "ribbit" All the frogs "roar" and the fire is frigid I'm outta this world, don't belong here What good is heiring the throne if I taught you from a small chair? Family, you niggas got it twisted Flow out of the box, yours chicken and a biscuit Give me Chicken Pox when I listen, I be itchin' To cripple your career like a ligament is missin' Dawg I'm on a mission like an intimate position When I swing it's knockouts I ain't gettin' a decision From here on, it's locked: y'all a prisoner to spittin' Can't escape my bars: no visitors permitted Welcome to Hell where Joell holds a pitchfork And you burn in eternal flames for your bitch-talk Dick in my hand: I'm pissed off But I ain't bucklin', everyday I'm hustlin': Rick Ross One day the whole globe will know that I'm Clark Kent Underneath the shades on a project park bench Superman when I grip the mic The only way I'm slowin' down is if I blow a pound of Kryptonite From now on I'm a bully, I'mma pick the fight Let them pick you up off the ground when I chip ya bite You'll become a little memory: gigabyte Me and these beats got married, I'm Mr. Right Little man, you spit it aight I'm on fire, you got a little buzz: Miller Lite Man there's so many words runnin' 'round my brain If I don't put them on a track I would go insane Maybe that's why everything I say is crazy And everyday I wake up, with a naked lady With a V.I.P. band on my right wrist Pants on the floor, J.D. with a slight sip left in the bottle 'Telly key on the nightstand I go to the bathroom to pee, and then I scram I live the life of a rock star They ain't wanna let me through, so I became a cop car Put the sirens on every time I touch a pen Everybody move like dope: that's a fuckin' '10' My peers know I'm gonna win This music's like my first crush, for years I wanted in I'm here. Oh boy will you taste the wrath I'mma make it ugly like what's underneath Jason's mask I listen to a lot of mixtapes and laugh All y'all niggas do is whine like Jamaican ass Every night I celebrate, we take a glass of champagne to the brain Sometimes we take a bath Victory feels far better Than defeat; you niggas weak: Solar's Letter I'm harder than the Fonz' leather My worst rhyme's 30 times rougher than your hottest bars ever I could front like a car fender Cause everything I'm on, DJs pull up like the bartenders New York I'm the answer to your prayers Head-nod music, leave the dancin' over there Project shit, ain't no mansion over here Just murder on the strings, Charles Manson on the snare I'm hungry; the game's like a food court I just gave y'all a loose hundred: Newports [Outro: Joell Ortiz] Chea Joell Ortiz Who feel they, who feel they better?