Låttexter
Yeah, New York City
Dr. Doom Pebblestone
I took the Batmobile out last night
Went to Tony Rome's
And I seen, exaggeration
Spottin fools frontin fly, girls act material
(You live at home wit'cha moms)
Spottin fools frontin fly, girls act material
(You live at home wit'cha moms)
Spottin fools frontin fly, girls act material
(You live at home wit'cha moms)
Spottin fools frontin fly, girls act material
(You live at home wit'cha moms)
I spot MC's on BET with the fake zirconia bezel Rolex
Lookin like virgin with the see-through back
Bought from the Indian kid off the rack
Sterlin silver delivery
Y'all tryin to fool me actin bougie with the platinum wannabe
It look real stainless steel appeal
That's not the presidential, let's keep it confidential
You ordered that from the kid in the ad in The Source boss
Step up your rep up in genuine fashion, I caught you assin
With your name on the rented car lease
Feathered dob hats, zoot suits with vinyl alligator boots
Extreme dream with no apartment space
You frontin the fly ride in an empty place
With your rent due on the first of the month
The second month you exit
Portrayin to girls like you everything in the world
Frontmaster, prepare to face disaster as I pass ya
Movin Galactica with no capacity
You ain't got enough to buy a small soda in Johnny Rockets be
Posin with bald head black girls with a Florida tan
Tryin to act like you the man
Starstruck with one buck, your girl look like Donald Duck
Party figure perpetrator undercover hater
Smell your cheap cologne in the elevator
Dope you smoke half of y'all out there never touched a mink coat
With your four carat white gold you look like you're pantomimin
Tryin to rhyme off inflexible facial bone structure
I crush ya, down to the past so
Like spicy foods burnin through your asshole
Remember I did the damage to your last ho
Then threw your Pampers in the manhole
Your engineer walked away with ponytails like Annie Mae
Laughin and talkin the other way
You was the first rapper to pull out grease
And turn your butt the other way
Your girl think you're tough, big buff and rough
(90% Of these rappers are very soft)
I look at your audience and fanbase
Nuttin but a bunch of men
Tappin each other on the back again
Fools with backpacks tryin to show me they asscracks
Cigarette lighters blowin smoke on my Polo shirt
You're bound to get hurt
With one leg tryin to walk to work
On the mic you rap hard, and overexert
Material girls catch diarrhea won't make it to my concert
It don't have to be Fourth of July for your rectum to see fireworks
While you buy clothes at Ross, sewin in weaves tryin to floss
Walkin in large restaurants, orderin a small bowl of chicken broth
Water and napkins you ain't tryin to be a captain
Put down this wack actin, skillsful movies
Send you to Nikko lobbies like a groupie
Stage fright out of sight cover your ass up
Prepare I'll pull my mask up
(Why don't you call us the J-Kid)
That's right kid clean up your room
Go clean up your room
Clean your room, otherwise you'll be on punishment
For two weeks
