My Own Planet

[Intro] Right of the rip, nobody can fuck with me I’m out of space, mind and body, my soul and so on Mami I’m fly is an understatement, come to greatness [Hook: Mr. Porter] I’m on my own planet, I’ll do my own thing Then turn around and pat myself on the back, for doing good I don’t need nobody else, I’m gonna do it by myself Say what you wanna say but stick to the facts, it’s all good [Verse 1: Royce] Right of the rip nobody is quite like me You gonna need a NASA spacecraft to sight me If you don’t like me, bite me I could give a fuck, less fightin excites me Leanin on the moon with a patron fifth Playing my own shit, and I sound terrific I’m not cocky, I’m beyond that It’s time to start another hobby, I’m beyond rap Run and tell your baby daddy and your son Ray I’m hot, I sunbathe on the sun bae I’m the one on the one way Hands and pretty long legs from the runway My nigga Nauny is a genius You gonna need a ladder just to climb on my penis Got two words for the rap game, fuck y'all [Hook] [Verse 2] Right off the rip, you thought it was a wrap for me Didn’t you? Go ahead and admit it hater Cold as ice I’m a living refrigerator The reason hip hop’s breathing the defibrillator I did a bid just for drunk driving It’ll never happen again cause now I’m drunk flying I’m an innovator when I say I’m on Venus I don’t mean that I’m dating the tennis player I’m on Saturn where you don’t matter Alone, I’m past the zone where your phone scatters Hello? Can you hear me now you? You don’t got a fuckin choice Elbowed my way into everybody’s conversations With rhyming, timing and patience, now I’m in space bitch I use to have to be on some watch what I say shit But now you gotta take it [Hook] [Verse 3: Joe Budden] They say a closed mouth don’t get fed I say a closed mouth don’t give head On the flip side, know a closed fist don’t get bread And if you swing it then you gon’ get lead Boy I put ‘em in a panic, got ‘em all frantic Overlook my antics, you’ll see that I’m a throwback Hip hop Stan Smith but it lessen my love The so-called rulers ain't quite measuring up Now lemme give the chicks a message Bit of X, she'll tell you that the dick is precious Three words, get over it And if you speak mine, mention I could trip over it Low key like my name to big for the bill Betty White style, get it in, still Plus I’m on the high you can’t fit in the pill But I try anyway, we gon’ die anyway, ya heard [Hook]