Uh, what what? Supafriendz, uh, uh
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Straight up and down, ain't no comparing me, see
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Cause I got some shit that'll put y'all motherfuckers
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Back in freestyle therapy, B
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I make rappers fall like when school starts, like cheap tissue
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When you're next to my shit you're getting ripped apart
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Dissing wack niggas without rehearsal
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No matter what I say somebody gonna take it personal, so fuck it
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Your man put down the cheddar, nigga we get the pay-oh
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I make sure you lose a friend for life and be looking for a way home
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Get dropped on your rap block without leaving a spot
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Separate you from the jock, I got plans to make you hot
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Watch an MC and you rot, nigga these flows is crisp
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When a mic in my hand bitches is supposed to be like this
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There's mad niggas that wanna see Mad Skillz slip
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Yeah you gonna see me slip, past your ass with your bitch in my whip
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Get a grip, whoever got the itch then I got the scratch
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MC's wanna get gassed, I feed their ass a lit match
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All these jealous-ass niggas acting sheisty
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Better tongue kiss Magic Johnson before they tell me I'm nice
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But that's aiight, Northside E, conceited times three
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Come through your town on skis, subtracting MC's
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Word to Battle be in Lonnie's last name
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Approach me, all you getting that
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Plus you getting blown out the fucking frame
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Who the nigga that got a big head when he on the mic, pa?
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Ask a question, answer me (Bastard, you are)
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Who the MC that grab the mic and start busting rappers' asses?
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(You are you conceited bastard)
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Who be burning beats down leaving you with straight ashes?
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(You are you conceited bastard)
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Who's the one who put wack MC's right in their casket?
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(You are you conceited bastard)
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Man these fools, they slower than retarded molasass, who the nicest?
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(You are you conceited bastard)
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Ayo, these little niggas in the rap game, they straight lame
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Had diss you in a rhyme, but these niggas be scared to say your name
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If a nigga say mine, he getting bagged, kid, I'm a be in the
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Studio whipping his ass before he can finish his fucking ad-libs
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Taking me out? Stop hoping
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Niggas always say they gonna do it, it never get done, it's like voting
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I get it open, rhymes tying into name
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Simple and plain, I pull rhymes, one ring and one chain
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I give a fuck about fame, press your luck and quit
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Mic-wise you realize I ain't that nigga you wanna fuck with
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I'm nice as a bitch with the rhyme, if a nigga say I'm wack
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He don't know his name, can't walk a straight line
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Pissy drunk, screaming like Onyx
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Forgot his social security number, damn near drowning in his own vomit
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I kill logic, test me friend, you'll be in a club with your clothes
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On backwards hollaring at a well-known lesbian
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Half of y'all niggas got wack raps and wack tracks
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Talking about you representing, putting your town on the map
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Still, your mother heard your tape and wanted to shoot you
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And niggas around this bitch wonder why we call ourselves "Super?"
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Your flows get you free lunch, mine get dough and cash
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You shouldn't like that your ho got my logo tatooed on her fucking ass
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I do all y'all playa haters, believe me
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You trying to end your career before this shit even start, come see me
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Outro: Repeat 2x
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Who the MC that grab the mic and start busting rappers' asses?
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(You are you conceited bastard)
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Who be burning beats down leaving you with straight ashes?
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(You are you conceited bastard)
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Who's the one who put wack MC's right in their casket?
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(You are you conceited bastard)
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Man these fools, they slower than retarded molasass, who the nicest?
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(You are you conceited bastard)
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"Well that's true" "You are" (Repeat 16x)
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-----------------
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The Conceited Bastard
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Mad Skillz |