Mak Of The Year

[Verse] I give no fucks, for all of these hataz that suck They makin' me blush, cause they suckin so much I'm a nut oooooooow That's Kov', makin' homos wanna go str8 (uh, yeeauugh!) Cause I tell the truth, and they like, "What more can I say?" (What More?) Dealin with the everyday thangs, these beats are gonna be my shame Like a picture without its frame, I hear labels still sayin' my name Makin' that nigga mo' rich, and they know I'mma ask for a grip Better that, than robbin' a bank, I set it off witta queen and a tank Will I let this bang, well you know its No Limit, runnin up the tracks man I'm feelin' like Emmit Blacksmith, with the words I finish, turnin these beats into microwave dinners Cause I'm Hungryman, that thunder playin, put everything in check thats on the land Nike Town my Just do it crown, I say why not? then I put shit out If I ever I leave how much you wanna bet? I leave red on they clothes and that red all wet Multi-colored runnin deep like where sharks like to sleep But they really don't, so we all gotta eat Put a spoon in them niggas they soft, talkin bout rhymes but they ain't gotta cough Thinkin they boss, but they just take a loss, gingivitis man, yall niggas need to floss Ain't got bars and they don't get me, can't understand why I'm out of they league Even these fine chicks, lookin like simps, son she only live good on The Sims Fakin' the funk naw I'm way too skunk, lookin like a pimp no hoes but funds Never gave out myself like nuns, been so dirty south and never cleaned up Need a maid and some 409, polish my dick, while I polish these lines Man she so sweet I don't talk that way but, if she a trick no tellin' what I'll say, What I say? [Refrain] [Verse continued] Get out girl, go to yo' man, bounce that ass right outta my hand That's what I call a back up plan, I'll smack it up that's a helping hand Vroom vroom, mane she gone, high enough she could kill this song Rappin so wise I want more than a song, this that spittah's spit that clone Michael Keaton, Batman, even Alec They like Kova slow down, dumb it down, too much talent Dressin up with no salad, on a ranch goin auto pilot How high? girl check the mileage, fresh to def, moment of silence