Guilty Simpson - Fruit Punch lyrics

Verse 1: Guilty Simpson I hear a lot of false prophecies, about a lotta emcees Philosophies about these fake Socrates Not to be a hater, but he ain't the savior I got too many layers, the games got way too many players So I slay another rapper, and put 'em on the mantle You lookin' but I'm on another channel Watchin' these sambos puttin' on a show for their handlers Lyin' to the people for the cameras Amateur night, these clowns can't damage a mic So I'm breakin' off the hand that they write with I might sh*t, real weed here takes flight with The price gets better when you bring more cheddar I fight clips, with the strength of the men I'm pissin'' from the ? to the ?, so send 'em in Your style is cinnamon Way to sweet for the streets to be listening' in Michigan Hook 1: The Rockness Monstah Hey you a b*tch ni**a That's right I said it, you a b*tch ni**a (word) You be runnin' round with all types of snitch ni**as I can't mix wicha, you and your inner b**ha Yah you, you a b*tch ni**a Fat b*tch a** ni**a, rub on ya' t*ts ni**a You one of them side switch ni**as (uh huh, uh huh) I can't mix wicha b*tch ni**as Verse 2: The Rockness Montsah Rock not the LL Cool J "I need Love" More like the LL, smoke two J's, I need d** Addict behavior, ran out & I'm agg-ravated Y'all rappin' this lame sh**, I feel like clappin' the stage up No applause and no remorse for rappers that's claimin' they got bars No dem is bras. I laugh in their faces. b**h boy F*ck u threw some D's on it? Rich Boy How those pants tight & they saggin' you sh*t in your draws, didn't you? I will make you break dance on your face scrams Capoeira, slap you hella hard, probably sprain my hand (splocka) You snakes can't hide in my gra** Ain't no gra** in the PJs, I smoke mine in a wrap I don't drink fruit ni**a I punch fruits Put' generations of little bangers through huntin' school I don't wanna do sh*t wicha Ol' Lifetime channel watchin' bu*ter milk bath takin' b*tch ni**a Hook 2: The Rockness Monstah Hey you a b*tch ni**a That's right I said it, you a b*tch ni**a (word) You be runnin' round with all types of snitch ni**as I can't mix wicha, you and your inner b**ha Yah you, you a b*tch ni**a Fat b*tch a** ni**a, rub on ya' t*ts ni**a You one of them side switch ni**as (uh huh, uh huh) I can't mix wicha b*tch ni**as