Gossip (Live)

[Intro] I hate gossip And I don't walk around lookin' for it, you know? But, yesterday it seemed to just Wander around 'til it found me You know like, the gossip found me Then why don't try provin' it? How? You don't know how to prove it? Well, what you just do is, stop [Verse 1] Stop hating on a nigga That is a weak emotion, the lady of a nigga And you can get tipped like you're waiting on a nigga Put a body bag and an apron on a nigga I give my all behind the mic But you can never see if you sit behind the light And you don't have to pick me to win the title fight But I'ma wear that championship belt so tight And if I'm wrong, there is no right And if I'm wrong, there is Snow White I'm trying to be polite But you bitches in my hair like the fucking po-lice My flow is rare, these other rappers nice These other rappers bark some of them even bite But I'm much more bright, I give the game sight So before you dim the light, you just might, might wanna... [Chorus] Think it over Ooooh, think it over Think it over, baby baby [Verse 2] Stop analyzing, criticizing You should realize what I am and start epitomizing Confident, got the heart of the biggest lion Confident, like fuck them all, pull out my dick and ride it My flow sick, so sick, it's like my shit is dying It rains a lot in my city 'cause my city's crying 'Cause my city's dying, but I emerge from all of that I am a living pioneer, Zion Fear God, not them, steer my robin Coupe Through the streets of the boot and soowoo And then I leak blood in the booth, I leave a bloodbath Sorry, there's a tub in the booth, now where the drugs at? Like the strings on a shoe, no, nigga, fuck that I'm twisted like the strings on a boot, where New Orleans at? I feel hip hop stole me like a bus pass So in your possession, I must ask [Chorus] Hey, haven't I been good to you? Tell me, haven't I been sweet to you? [Verse 3] Drag my name through the mud, I come out clean Cast away stones, I won't even blink A gun is not a math problem, I won't even think Just leave you dead like the mink under my sink Don't believe in me, don't believe me I've graduated from hungry and made it to greedy My flow is like pasta, take it and eat it But I'm gon' need cheese if I'm baking a ziti You niggas want beef, I want a steak and, uh, we be Lost in Amsterdam or Jamaica, where weed be Hard body nigga, taking it easy All about my paper, 'bout my paper like E-Z Wider wrappers, why do rappers lie to fans, lie to rappers? Lot of rappers lie like actors, cut the motherfucking cameras Cut the check, nigga, fuck your props I am Hip Hop And I ain't dead, I'm alive