[Verse: Dezmatic] You think this music shouldn't be done this way We sniff yay off switchblades and drop nothing but fish eggs These words are supposed to uplift Not to talk about the strippers who let slit wrists drip It's all about the people But people are just puppets with no promised land for them that you can lead to You want some conscience raps about equality? But George Bush is gangster and I admire his monopoly You's a self-described purist But your record collection just means your identity's purchased Most of your rap heroes have disappointed you But would still charge you a G just to do a joint with you You got a hundred a show, bookin' your own tour But because you almost famous, you deserve the whole door You swear you're not a s**er for the fame But I've talked to blueprints, you just want production for the name I'm automatically supposed to be a fan of yours ‘Cause one of the tracks on one of your albums one of my mans endorsed But I just wasn't feelin' it, bro Except for his verse, he was k**in' it, yo You wrote that line a year ago But only pressed 200 CDs at a time, so ain't nobody hearin' you In your lines, you stuff a trillion syllables But still can't sufficiently explain why I'm not as ill as you You never heard of that dude, Nobs A mistake you'll never forget, like wack tattoo jobs You never thought the beats should be this simple You'd rather spend hours tryin' to pull your teeth through your dimples You think that looping samples isn't relevant But what do you get when you mix a gymnast with a pelican? You could see my middle finger in the air But I could see your girlfriend and all my children in her hair You thought I couldn't amplify the party If only I stopped tryin' to disenfranchise the audience Just then, there's still a knot in your head That's why you consider a [?] to be the proper etiquette Gangster is as gangster does What's really gangster is after you k**ed him, you drank his blood That shock value sh** doesn't work for you You prefer these joints to be tear-jerkingly personal Your ex put you onto Sage Francis But not every rapper comes from the same [?] So it's either Stones Throw, Def Jux or RSE But none of them labels got a artist like me I'm saying exactly what you thinking, right? Shut up If life really is a b**h, she's got her panties bunched up You still waiting for the chorus And you only came here to see them other fools who played before us Who's this fat white kid anyway? When it all boils down to beef like demi-glace You didn't know the name before but please, I insist Recognize from here on out, Fingerprint, b**h!