(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