F.H.H.

Lyrics

[Hook] Keep tryna keep it real, I'm keepin' it raw While half of y'all still be keepin' it flaw And all the real heads scream, "FUCK HIP-HOP!" Until this mediocre bullshit stops Drug fiends, let me show you the route Who's that motherfucker still keepin' the dope in the house? It's Motamouth (Who?!) It's Motamouth, baby It's Motamouth [Verse 1] Whenever I write, I put myself out of place from other cats So it don't sound like another brother's rap I smother tracks with raw shit, niggas aren't able to bite What I bring to the table is height Then I easily supersede, niggas need what I got Reason I'm hot, there's no other raw seeds in the pot While most motherfuckers follow the guidelines of Hip-Hop 101 Jakki Da Motamouth decides to have fun Not following rules, swallowing crews Son, I toss cats off the stage often, I slay their soft raps To all you fake dictionary emcees, get off that Half of y'all don't understand your own rhymes, and soft batch They straight at open mics, but put them out on the street Take away their dope beat, let 'em rhyme, and they weak And the mic can be a decieving device Muffle your rhymes, so they ain't clear and concise Have niggas thinking you nice Let's battle, I'll crack on all your gear and all your wack raps You can't be saved by your babbling, or your backpack Doing it "for the love" is great, but you fake And putting your shit out is a mistake nobody wants to make [Hook] Keep tryna keep it real, I'm keepin' it raw While half of y'all still be keepin' it flaw And all the real heads scream, "FUCK HIP-HOP!" Until this mediocre bullshit stops Drug fiends, let me show you the route Who's that motherfucker still keepin' the dope in the house? It's Motamouth (Who?!) It's Motamouth, baby It's Motamouth [Verse 2] Hate when I go to open mics and I see everybody clapping For some clown they don't understand, yet everybody acting Like he dope, because they believe "it's Hip-Hop" Y'all convincing me that most of y'all are brainwashed Stuck in in old Hip-Hop history Some cats are crap without their tracks, 'cause they weak I wish a nigga would say he listen to me for the beats Some got the nerve to say they dope when they spit When even they family got a tape and they won't open the shit I got a big mouth and I ain't scared to use it One person's key style allows everyone to abuse it So what the fuck is your definition of "underground"? Depressing beats and bleak cats who love the sound?! Well I ain't part of that, I'm tired of rapper's garbage I'm the part of the underground who only feels the raw shit And I could take a nigga out regardless You can bring your hardest artists, and I'll make 'em heartless Some say they "lyrically this," or "lyrically that" Throwing "lyrical" in every rap and they lyrically wack And many cats rhyme over tracks nobody fiends for Don't fuck around with me, if you can only fuck with keyboards! Just 'cause lazy niggas use recognizable material Don't mean that dope samples are not original 'Cause a producer with skill could lace tracks And keyboard beats aren't that original – lets face facts That shit was over-used in the G-Funk era Don't give me that excuse, real emcees want better Ya'll rhyme over enough shit – most get away with murder Like kids who think they words rhyme 'cause of the suffix Must bitch niggas be fragile? In fact You brag 'bout who you battled, but who you battled was crap What you angry for? And acting all tense? If you innocent, be cool – only the guilty's catching offense [Hook] Keep tryna keep it real, I'm keepin' it raw While half of y'all still be keepin' it flaw And all the real heads scream, "FUCK HIP-HOP!" Until this mediocre bullshit stops Drug fiends, let me show you the route Who's that motherfucker still keepin' the dope in the house? It's Motamouth (Who?!) It's Motamouth, baby It's Motamouth [Outro: Scratches]