So Cruel

[Intro: Saigon] I ain't no joke, '09 Uh huh. S to the A Man... [Verse 1: Saigon] I'm the same kid that tried to murder your brother Now I'm on the muhfuckin' Murder Dog cover Act like a nonbeliever—go 'head Act like you ain't read about a nigga in the Don Diva It wasn't for my rhymes neither It was 'bout how I cocked the gat, shot a cat back in nine fever Why The Source gave me Rhyme of the Month? When I shoulda got the rhyme of modern-day time Fuck these niggas [Bridge: Saigon] (Hold on) Let's see This is, this is some MC shit, yo You gotta be a real MC to spit on these beats man Hell yeah, man [Verse 2: Saigon] I could be richer than Phil Drummond and still bummin' And I know the difference between a bitch and a real woman Niggas stay up 25 hours a night Any coward could write They bark but they bite, don't devour the mic I am the wildest in sight Been in the pen, so I can tell you how it was like I done seen Bloods faces pourin' it out Six in the morning, COs yellin', "Order: get out!" Now fuck that—it's not what the song is about This is about you weak rap niggas that's out And y'all bitches in the crowd that wouldn't give us no rhythm When my shit pop, I ain't gon' give you no jizzle Nothin' but "fuck yous" and bad criticism Obama is the pres but I voted for "?" I'm the meaning of lyricism If it's somebody that feel different, give him my digits—tell him to hit 'em He can call me on the late night or early in the morn And that's my word, bond—we gon' get it on And I don't care if y'all get along Cause y'all niggas is cum Y'all niggas just ain't that strong [Chorus: Sample] [Verse 3: Saigon] I'm showing off with Statik—it ain't only Just now And I don't smoke cigs, but I'll give you a bust down Creep by wherever you hang and bust rounds You gon' hear the sound of the pound—now Thou shall not fuck with nor say B.I.G. rhyme If you ain't one of the Sean's the shits corn Moving right along, my name's Saigon The future of rap, faggot, the next icon If I could just keep that gun in the house Or for five fucking minutes, stop runnin' my mouth Shit, I'd be alright. Niggas ain't tight They don't write the kind of rhymes that I write Right, right, I'm lyrical, five-mic material Nigga, you love the rizzle and I like to give it to you So let's make things nice and clear I'm shitting on the whole game twice a year And they scared Bitch [Chorus: Sample] Let my people go I did my time {*Echoes*}