[Verse 1: Real Prophecy]
Time to sing sing, I do my thing thing b**h I'm a king pin
s** my ding ding, dingaling and just kiss my ring fing
Ching Ching, green got my brown swimming in pink pink
Call her Ling Ling cause she smokes til her eyes are chink chink
Devil's blinking, tek badman fi play ting ting
f** you, f** your instinct, f** what you think think
Pivot, you ain't got the feet to kick it po' little tank tank
Step in the ring, all you hearing is ding ding
There's no one that can match me, go head and jinx him
n***as smokin' chronic, herbal tonic sippin' on Ginseng
I got a little Chinese in me, my eyes are squinted
Cause I take juice and I mix it with Jin and I drink drink
She got her Beyoncé on, the culo of that Columbian is donkey kong
Gwan with her panties on, basking in the ambiance
Her man is a rapper but even he knows I'm a champion
[Hook 1: Real Prophecy]
(f** Hip Hop)
Y'all can all s** my dick
(f** Hip Hop)
Y'all can all s** my dick
(f** Hip Hop)
Y'all can all s** my dick
And my left nut cause all I'm screamin' is f** (what)
(Repeat)
[Verse 2: Real Prophecy]
My vocals flow through what folks use in protools
I'm local, close to global, hope it goes to Constantinople
It's so true, there's only one god that I'll sell my soul to
Jesus Christ, now it's time to get back on my old school
There's not enough emcees, just rappers so I provoke you
Poke you, choke you, rope you on soulful beats I wrote to
Check it I'm on my Method, I'll roll you up and I'll smoke you
Thinkin' I'm boastful, this style you cannot come close to
It's darkness I doubt the sun'll come out tomorrow
I'm from a place where n***as know nothing about the law
No father figures and mothers are hooked on alcohol
And how come y'all don't even know that I'm from the south at all
Ain't no second guessin' that in blessed with essence
Rappers lyin' bout weapons, well i don't need a Smith and Wesson reference
Mojo so dope, never lost mine
I'm in my prime, projected to be the greatest of all time
[Hook 2: Real Prophecy]
REPEAT x2
[Verse 3: Real Prophecy]
Dead presidents buried in my cemetery jeans pocket on me
Feel like a zombie I'm walking with the dead
Time to get paid, digging Benjamin out of his grave
Fold backwards, fold forward, never sold my soul for it
Was a minor before, takes some time to mature
A Honda Accord was the only thing that your mom could afford
Now you rich enough to buy her any vehicle
Including yourself, sell your soul, you would do it for wealth
f** hip hop, I'm no longer humble
Slid away to the darkest tunnel, where I beat my meat til I have carpel tunnel
A psycho, sick perverted, you misinterpreted wrong
b**h I'm a don, you just a dish detergent
Picture perfect, I paint a perfect picture on my Pac sh**
And since he died I don't know what hip hop is
So f** you, I don't give a 'f' what!
Ain't nobody stepped up, so you can s** my dick and my left nut
[Hook 3: Real Prophecy]
REPEAT x2
[Outro: Real Prophecy]
Oh, I forgot to tell you
You can s** my right one as well
(Hmmmn)