Attitudes 2012

[Intro] [Ras Kass talking]: But this dedicated to my homeboy. My nigga Hex Murda. Royce 5'9". Rassy Kassy. C-SICK, Sick Jacken let's get it [Verse One] [Ras Kass]: I'm still a Conceited Bastard Threw away in Hell and said fuck it to asthma Cause I self lord and master Real nigga, let my nuts hang like a flasher My life's the Hangover, Anchor Man and Wedding Crashers My niggas mix the weed and the hash up I keep heavy water stashed up Feed inter venous like plasma Keep vix face down with ass up Like my nigga Cipher Sounds, hope I don't get gassed up But this Ras and whips get crashed up Then a niggas ski masked up to up and go get it My daddy used to say I was obstinate But then my poppa split so why be the opposite? The judge sentenced me said I don't respect authority Yeah, probably true, ask Priority Ask that bitch nigga Garnett March I spit on at The Source Awards So of course it's on And my verses born with a curse upon So I be fuckin' clowns up like circus porn Peace to my nigga Hex, get well, we all prayin' This dedicated to you for bein' 100 and stayin'...real And sayin' exactly what the fuck you feel Like these faggots wearing women's skin like Buffalo Bill Haters I'll let the silencer bust in your grill Fuck pigs too, I'mma muffle your squeals And I still walk around like my shit don't stink Bootleg your album then I'll post your link Fuck I'm so ill and I don't know Bill So I'd rather kill you Hide you in the shower and your corpse mildew View to a kill Niggas hate my guts but gotta respect how I take your lunch nigga [Hook] [Ras Kass]: My attitude is fucked up and real shitty My latitude is much up and real gritty Have your brain fucked up, I'm too witty Watch how a nigga nuts up, like two titties My attitude is fucked up and real shitty I done made enough bucks, a few cities Have your brain fucked up, I'm too witty Dog I done had enough lunch, you're too kitty [Verse Two] [Royce Da 5'9"]: Your attitude determines your latitude This house that we call hip hop, I'm in the attic fool A mic and some turntables fit for the unstable Converted to a padded room Keep a street sweeper, in fact I call the Mag a broom You seein' me you seein' things You must of had yourself a bag of shrooms I make a call make a faker fall My clique is too sick so say goodbye In the streets where the stakes/steaks is high Like Ruth Chris, I'm from the city of true shit Where the mayor went to jail for being a player right after Drew split Levels ahead of competitors, Royce that I'm drinkin' everyday till Hex Murda get his regular voice back Ras I got you, this K will blast for you From a block away, ask Tricky I'm that niggy I'm more hooded than black Dickies I rap like committing suicide in the booth takin' the track with me Patron's in my chromosomes in order to leave it alone You have to ween me off That Lorena Bobbit chopper will knock a weenie off Put your body between chalk From squeezin' the nine iron like you swingin' golf I'm the best rapper alive, put somethin' on it You sound plain as a cheese pizza with nothin' on it [Hook] [Ras Kass]: My attitude is fucked up and real shitty My latitude is much up and real gritty Have your brain fucked up, I'm too witty Watch how a nigga nuts up, like two titties My attitude is fucked up and real shitty I done made enough bucks, a few cities Have your brain fucked up, I'm too witty Dog I done had enough lunch, you're too kitty