Of Course Not! (Demo)

Lyrics

Kenny Diaz ft. A-Butta and Wordsworth - "Of Course Not! (Demo)" [Emcee(s): A-Butta and Wordsworth] [Producer(s): Kenny Diaz] [Intro: Wordsworth and A-Butta Wordsworth: Collaborations, the symphony A-Butta: Haha, word up Wordsworth: You know, this was sort of like destiny to happen, you know'm saying? A-Butta: I hear that Wordsworth: Natural E, Punch & Wordsworth A-Butta: Hahaha, no doubt Wordsworth: Like that. Represent A-Butta: You know how we do it, man Wordsworth: Yo, like this. What up? Hit 'em, A. What up, world? A-Butta: I'm 'bout to hit 'em, I'm 'bout to hit 'em Wordsworth: Yo, what up, world? [Verse 1: A-Butta] Yo, I'm like A surgeon when I'm working mics 'cause stitches are made, I leave Inscriptions on the stage like Egyptians on caves, mentally High, lyrics my lye, we're getting lifted for days, pity The guy who messes with I, leaving niggas amazed. Triggers Will blaze up in your club for what? Someone sold you milk that's bugged I like to say, "Peace," relax, flow, and chill. On The real, I hope you wrote your will. I kill a first verse Combine with Wordsworth, son, we'll be the dopest skills Come on, kid, you know the drill. I write a rhyme within A second that'll have y'all niggas open still, giving Competition constant lessons on composition It's a resurrection for the hip hop Armageddon [Hook: Wordsworth and (A-Butta)] Yo, the World's small, only a few get chosen The chosen few get you open, but that don't mean I believe That they're making emcees who keeping tricks up their sleeves What a web they weave, so I ask: Will hip hop die? Of course not! (Will the underground die?) Of course not! Will all the dope emcees get signed? Of course not! (Does the media understand rap?) Of course not! (You don't stop)—what?—(and you don't quit), nope! (So you don't stop)—never—(and you don't quit), what? [Verse 2: Wordsworth] As it Been lately, showcasing ways to blend tapes While competitors aim for each letter like inmates These broke and hungry rappers wanna be us, they walk around Town unlaced with their tongues out like Run's Adidas We're present. To me, you're past-tense. What I write touches People I work with (Like what?) like sexual harassment Beats, Rhymes and Life on A Quest Tribal Around us, please watch what you say like subtitles (What we do?) Deduct rivals, pin, press thumb, middle, index (And what?) We invest and keep it in the fam like incest, then next You percept a king to a point forever, follow me Like, "Words, come on, man. Let's do this joint together" Bound to succeed, squeezing margins, grounded-up trees. So you Think that you're out to flow? Go 'head, get down on your knees. We house you Valiantly as much as we critique others To the death 'cause God forbid we fall off like the weave, brothers [Hook: Wordsworth and (A-Butta)] Yo, the World's small, only a few get chosen The chosen few get you open, but that don't mean I believe That they're making emcees who keeping tricks up their sleeves What a web they weave, so I ask: Will hip hop die? Of course not! (Will the underground die?) Of course not! Will all the dope emcees get signed? Of course not! (Does the media understand rap?) Of course not! (You don't stop)—what?—(and you don't quit), nope! (So you don't stop)—never—(and you don't quit), what?