SurvivaL of the iLLest

I've been up this mutha fucka for so long Its like-I cant do it wrong-its always a good song No fancy hip hop-no sing alongs-just lyricism Realist words on snare or pop-fallin out ya cynic-ism Like a hybrid mechanism-I can do this an do you Like Westside-G style-or talk box-I can act a fool Or be back for the first time-word of mouf-its beer n chicken Thickening the plot to see me get my title shot-bitchin Cuz half em aint got my talent-half em aint gone last Its been ten years next month-its December twenty ten-fast Shit it's been a blink of an eye-and the skills improved this much So now I've lost control-and I'm smackin emcees-kickin they crutch Killin they producers-and shittin on they so called perfect tracks What about these niggas claimin hoods-they need to call it raps Cuz last time I checked-these kids run on fake blocks None of ya real-last I heard-u were seen talkin to cops Survival of the iLLest-it's the siccest membrane Stuck in them thangs-yea we've gone insane Rippin through beats-disturbin wave-frames Up in everybody's shit-we holla at your dames Flip the script-slap ya pops-jaw rock ya moms Droppin nades and blades on rats-like vietnams Viet-chink-anese-these jin type rummy niggas Jaundice-yellowish-with rasta accents-but u all still niggas