DJ Premier - Talking sh** lyrics

[Produced by DJ Premier] [Intro] Hey yo, back the f** back, n***a! I love my n***aaaaaaaaas! STEEZY [Verse 1: Capital STEEZ] (And my n***as love me) Damn, and the saga continues So stand still when I slide on the venue Since middle school been on point with this pencil Respect it, he stay sharper than Ginsus What's on the menu? Crabs in a basket You make it somewhere and they just grabbin' you back in Amateur rappers and their mans wanna battle And turn pale in the face like they last name Jackson I admit, it was early for that We still embarra**in' and damagin' the burliest cats But on a higher note J. STEEZ play keys You can tell by the respect that I have earned in the trap See some say he the hottest in his cla** The rest talk trash, I acknowledge it and laugh Jockin' on my swag put the product in a bag Since erlenmeyer I learned to put the fire to the flask And came through with that crack spit New to the league straight ballin' off a draft pick You can tell all them amateurs that you rappin' with That I been going rampant since I came into this rapping sh** Staying pa**ionate Wrapping my hand around any rapper in my caliber coming after it Don't think they got the pamphlet and the man*script But every style of art they crafted I mastered it So bow down to your sensei I been paid Young boss since the tenth grade Now I see through flows, like water I'm flyer than C3P0 and Skywalker [Verse 2: Joey BADA$$] Too much west coast dick lickin', too many n***as Gettin' caught slippin', knittin' mittens into kissin' kittens Too many chickens wanna be pidgeons, sh**tin' over Stadiums, and leave it drippin' on your cranium Too many n***as think they gon' blow like Arabians Thinkin' they gon' eat next like Drake, no Canadian The best in the universe put you in a hearse If I don't get my space like alien, the kid is fire, don't play with him The fam used to baby him because he was the youngest He made a few adjustments and then proved that he wasn't dumbest I keep the fly-est chicks with the flattest stomachs Claim they just wanna get high, but on the low, they be down to s** it And I'm not the one to f** with, but f** it Leave the ruckus to a musket if you punk n***as can't take the judgement They love it, do a couple shows and I collect my hundred It barely budge my budget but it ain't nothin' I stay stuntin' They stay frontin' like I'm at the back, rear door Because I'm real though, and I've always been a weirdo n***a A young Caesar but he never kept his hair low The dear flow flows through ear flows explodes earlobes And therefo' I remain the pharoah Sittin' on my royal chair, ho, with a gold-adorned sombrero Came through I jacked the throne, you know the troop style Let's sit em' down, and crown him like a root can*l, b**h We some bad a** motherf**ers, n***a