Every Rapper In The House Shut The Fuck Up

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Copywrite] We do dirt We go alone. I'm PS2, your game's Coleco, it's old Big-headed, and the size ain't fitted for my ego alone Holding NY, but I do it for my people back home In O-H-I-O, where the snowflakes like whoa Fiends sniff in the streets, hoping it's cocaine by loads I tell 'em, "Sorry, but there's no way, 5-0 Would have scooped it and sold that shit to the whole state by now" A message for you biters: don't take my style When it's straight under, you're fetal, have your Colgatе-like smile In cutthroat mode with no cakе right now, so Get your girl a vest to protect her chest 'cause I Pull out on a bitch like unprotected sex, then I Take her bracelet and matching necklace set, no patience Quicker, it's an unexpected death, be gracious Bitch, I'm nutting on your breast and chest. Now blow me You brat, twenty bucks you owe me for that Throw me a sack. Honest, I promise to pay you back Next time you ask me, I'll be like, "You shouldn't have gave me that" Gangbanging your chick, you keep tonguing that bitch Cats that see me come up be like, "How you keep coming with shit?" I tell 'em, "Sometimes the illest shit's right under your nose" Like my mouthpiece when I recite some of my flows And dykes wanna get close, I turn 'em heterosexual Then turn around and be like, "Invite some of your hoes" You are what you eat. That shit's facts Why I never eat pussy and just stick with Big Macs/MACs [Hook: Cage] Every rapper in the house shut the fuck up Every rapper in the house shut the fuck up Every rapper in the house should shut the fuck up Don't go against no Weathermen, you gonna get fucked up [Verse 2: Cage] And I ain't fucked up now, bluffing the basics Lead stuff in the Asics from that kid puffing the Matrix I let my brain cells fight it out until the lighter out You ain't even got hands to hold the guns you write about Ain't got a heater. Meanwhile, Cage be wanting four fifths I stay putting it down and don't come off this Accomplice not needed, spray dolo with more Letter combinations in my blood than K-Solo LSD, THC, PCP The only three left I need's GED, oh! You know you can't stand the manic Even if you don't get the picture, the point of view's still panoramic Chemical organic, leaf is clouding Get your contact cracking in three plus two thousand [Verse 3: Yak Ballz] Damn! How you like us now, bitches? Weathermen chain gang! I'll let you count the stitches Fresh-ordered Timbs every time I kill it But it's really not the outfit, it's how I fit in it My shine is bling-bling, floss like cha-ching-ching Sluts all souped-up, they wanna be my main fling There's no denying that he's doing the damn thing Fucking puppets like I got these motherfuckers on strings. You don't Really want it. Put money on it, I'll put a hunny on it Fuck it, I'll put a couple hunnies on it, get twenty on it Smoke the kid up, smoke, choke my shit up Flow so hot now, 5-0 want my wrists in cuffs But not before I get my cut Fuck J-Lo, I know dimes with bigger butts And I'm sorry that you faggots shit out of luck (Luck!) Drank too much, and my stomach ready to upchuck! Put me in the clip, dump it. Cliques running but there's nowhere To hide, so I gotta hit something Split something, we get the shit jumping Mayne!