The Dusty Foot Philosopher

[Intro] Yo, just imagine, like whistling down a desert or some shit Don't this make you wanna swing like monkeys outta trees? [Verse 1] I don't got no parameters This amateur's famous All you fame getters Hate caterers Our main names are date of births On a later verse Make a nigga play reverse (move backwards) Marching with some soldiers here We coming over there The kind of niggas soldiers fear You just gotta stare You ain't got no option (no) Please relax son I'm taking over like drug dealer cars to auctions Oh these are hungry men These are angry men Heard you got a lot of guts They'll call your bluff Your shit is laughable Why you rapping oh Why don't you just wrap sandwiches to earn a capital? And half the shit that you spit Ain't even that sick If you was doing my physical you couldn't have my shit Back to my verse flow I don't get shit yo My skills so bright when I spit my lips glow [Hook] The dusty foot philosopher Ripping up kilometers Winking at you officers da dum da dum da dum The dusty foot philosopher Sicking up the monitor Waking up the auditors da dum da dum da dum [Verse 2] And I've seen war and some Survived the slaughter son Kids play cops and robbers and not with the water guns So yeah yeah picture me And big brother Lee Walking through the fire We came to claim our victory And I roll with a harder pen I might start a trend Beat down a wack MC cause you know there's a lot of them Wait till my shit crashes Rip asses Women who give me neck suffer from whiplashes I frighten the masses Cause I'm that nasty I heard to get a deal you had to give lap dances This shit is serious Sincere it is The people wanted something real Well yo here it is My rhymes push records back like a belly button dirty rutting I got stiff neck steady nuttin' it ain't nothing I got the track laid like I'm fucking The only balls you got is made outta cotton [Hook x2] [Verse 3] This is what you waited for Glad you stayed the chorus Cause a lot of rappers is getting treated like lady whores And I don't like Babylon I don't like your song I don't like hearing that fake accent from Dylon The industry commentator Fuck it I'm a hater My mind is like your life straight up cause it's made up I'm strolling like babies with big ass ladies (yeah) That rock more fellas than ten thousand daisies Harder than harbouring Bin Laden inside the bottom compound with Donald Rumsfield and Bush blood Moving along like people who don't want it Even if I had jewels I'd be the type who don't run it They call me dusty cause my feet have been through a lot The wisdom of my survival that's just due to Allah So I'm not gonna sit here and whine like crushed grapes My mind leaves you speechless like duct tape [Hook x2]