First Words Worse (The Beatnikz Remix)

Lyrics

C-Rayz Walz ft. El-P - "First Words Worse (The Beatnikz Remix)" [Emcee(s): C-Rayz Walz and El-P] [Producer(s): The Beatnikz (Frank Blank and Lil Jay)] [Verse 1: C-Rayz Walz] The truth is y'all haters had to lie to do it I'm loose like this loop is with a loot chick grinding to it Old-school like Colt 45, lunch lines, and Pumas. You heard I blazed who? (What?) I deny the rumors. Your mic Don't sound nice—you shouldn't even check one, two I'll disrespect who come through. My intellect is kung fu In the midst of the women that miss the man, a new Millennium bush baby with a mystic plan. Digi, digi Download, SoundScan exams, top-ten choice I wanna speak out—my label keeps getting my invoice, and if I sound sarcastic, I meant to do it. Wack Emcees' breath stink—yeah, they need a mint recruitment [Hook: C-Rayz Walz] (x2) Revenge of The first, rap, hip hop Underground, mainstream. Stop, lick a shot Pop, hit the charts, aim for the top And still get down when we drop [Verse 2: C-Rayz Walz] (Why not?) I got Different flows for different shows You don't know the half—(Why?)—I'm different on a whole I'll use a knife to cut class, but if the fight's not ending, these old- -school slugs can get your life suspended. You're not Safe with the ninja's hatred agenda. Fix your shape Up (Go 'head, go 'head), put your face in a blender. There's no Such thing as friendly contradiction. My competition Loses consciousness of composition. While I'm on the Toilet with an L, my shit is smoking. I got Grown folks laughing—they think the kid's joking But I won't dumb it down to double my dollars. I'd rather Piss on your lawn than leave a puddle in my boxers Get knocked out before round one's begun just for Getting smart with me, and you sound dumb. Melon-head Coward, motherfuck your honeydew crew that's looking No need to fight you, fool—my cough is whooping [Hook: C-Rayz Walz] (x2) Revenge of The words, rap, hip hop Underground, mainstream. Stop, lick a shot Pop, hit the charts, aim for the top And still get down when we drop [Verse 3: El-P] Yo, when I rap, you'll hear Spaceships and Martians and lasers and targets I'll face-fuck your bitch squad, lace anal compartments Comic books, bibles, barcodes, orphans This little tyrannical spitter living distorted Disc wanna live in the clearing of sin fortress Brooklynites babble on crass, blast portraits Meanwhile, back in a boxcutter for tongue talk Microcosm/Micro 'cause I'm awesome plus dumb bop Young cop rookie, the PJ beat nerve-rack Tension. The city of stress depressed, words slap Brethren. .45 dust dirty dumb shit Analog funk shit puncture. Run, bitch Cover. The cloud of defeat complete hovers Juxie slow burn, slow-mo flow colors Rookie, no run. Just, son, suck something El-Product album of raw saw destruction It's coming [Hook: C-Rayz Walz] (x2) Revenge of The worse, rap, hip hop Underground, mainstream. Stop, lick a shot Pop, hit the charts, aim for the top And still get down when we drop [Outro: C-Rayz Walz] And this Verse is the soundtrack to sickness. I'll give it to All y'all who think you can't get it