(another cla**ic joint !)
Check !
Flows is illmatic
While years pa** I'm still at it
2008 was the year I took a crack at it
Producing . . spitting lyrics I was bad at it
But when I practiced, it became a habit
Now I'm just an addict
Of the music you call cla**ic
Graphic, photographic memories
Hard is what they pretend to be, offending me ?
I know they soft because of telempathy
I got a remedy for these '' MC's '' essentially
They're amateurs
I'm the microphone damager
Got n***as who manage ya
And panicers turn into panicers
Run up in the office, hit the manager, and the janitor
Give them problems that are glandular
Or maybe a speed knot
Have him screaming '' please stop'' , make his knees drop
Into the sheet rock, until his feet pop
I'm always ready to eliminate
I would never discriminate
I'm one of the best that's why they always try to imitate
My words built like Rick Ross, yours is just middleweight
I'mma write rhymes until my whole mind disintegrates
n***as look cozy, but move slowly
And I ain't stopping until the world knows me as the one and only