Gossip

I hate gossip and I don't walk around lookin' for it, you know? But yesterday it seemed to just wander on till it found me You know like, gossip found me, then why don't you try provin' it How? You don't know how to prove it? Well, what would you just do is Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop Stop, hatin' on a nigga that is a weak emotion, the lady of a nigga And you can get tipped like ya waitin' on a nigga Put a body bag and an apron on the nigga I give my all behind the mic But you could never see, if you sit behind the light You don't have to pick me to win the title fight But I'm gone wear that championship belt so tight And if I'm wrong, there is no right And if I'm wrong, there is no white I'm tryna to be polite But you bitches in my hair like to f**kin' pull lice And my flow is rare, these other rappers nice These other rappers bark, some of 'em even bite But I'm much more bright, I give the game sight So before you dim the light you just might, might wanna Think it over (Think it over) Ooh, think it over (Think it over baby, baby) Get 'em Stop, analyzin' criticizin' You should realize what I am and start epitomizin' Legitimate, I got the heart of the biggest lion I'm confident like f**k 'em all pull out my d**k and ride it My flow sick, so sick, it's like my shit is dyin' It rains a lot in my city, because my city's cryin' Because my city's dyin' still I emerge from all of that I am a livin' pion-eer, near Zion Fear God, not them Steer my Robin Coupe through the streets of the boot and soowoop And, then I leave blood in a boot, I leave a blood bath Sorry there's a tub in the boot, now where the drugs at? I'm twisted like the strings on a shoe, no nigga bug that I'm twisted like the strings on a boot Now at New Orleans at I feel your pop stole me like a bus pa*s So in your possession, ah ah, I must ask Hey, haven't I been good to you? (Think it over) Tell me, haven't I been sweet to you? Drag my name through the mud I come out clean cast away stones I won't even blink A gun is not a math problem I won't even think Just leave you dead like the mink under my sink Don't believe in me, don't believe me I've graduated from hungry And made it to greedy My flow is like pasta Take it and eat it But I'm gone need g's If I'm bakin' the zeedy You niggas want beef? I want a steak and uh, we be Lost in Amsterdam or Jamaica where we be Hard body nigga, just takin' it easy All about my paper, 'bout my paper like Eazy Why do rappers? Why do rappers? Lie to fans, lie to rappers, lot of rappers Lie like actin', cut the mothaf**kin' cameras Cut the check nigga f**k your props And make it out to Mr.Hip Hop I'm not dead I'm alive