VIP - Till I Collapse (Cover) lyrics

[Verse 1: VIP] Till I collapse I be spitting raps as long you're listening Flo Rida got it wrong She too busy screwing me to be whistling Listening, whistling, glistening Make sure to knock Luther putting papers on your door, but got more cla** than John Locke Curbstomping scrubs in Gears of War, all aboard the Cole train Lord of the weather, call me Zeus, Indra, cause I make it rain Driving downtown, cruising at 105, popo think I'm scheming Life's so good, gotta pinch myself, make sure I'm not dreaming Riemann sums, adding up all the swag, got no bounds Little ant haters, right hand rule, coming over these mounds 3 years ago, a friend said I'm short, now he looks up to me Sci-talk: discussion leader; I speak so well you're lucky this rap's free [Verse 2: Sheath] Sheath to the newcomers, Pra----h to the old friends Praj to the close ones, I'm a b---h to no man Get the ash off your hands, put em all in a vase Evade, cause that's your grave Tombstone, here you lay Hear you complain, "man this isn't fair, look here I'm taking the stairs while you take the escalator again." It's too late to argue, it's already past 3 A.M. in the morning man, this is T-Painful for me Hearing you trying, striving, to compare you with me We're in different circles so stop and venn diagram me Push you off, who do you think you are Touching my arm? Subterranean, too below me To walk on the ground that I'm on Sike, no ground, all air Nike, I'm all victory I'll just do it when I want to, yeah you'll all see Name's Sheath, don't forget cause I'm just like a sword My rap's too sharp, too potent like a poison to give you all... [Verse 3: HighRise] Back from the dead, but it's only the beginning Set hell on fire, now I'm gunning for heaven Shooting up the haters, this ain't no amateur hour F--k Kanye, Kendrick, and Jigga I'm running through them like Tim Hightower Is it a bird? A plane? Nah it's just a beast Kryptonite ain't got nothing on me, I'm tearing off of this leash It's a cold world out there but I got J's on my feet So when I kick you around, blood will surely fill the streets A realistic, narcissistic misogynist with no fears When I spit on the mic you know that the end of days is near But don't get me wrong, I'm filled with holiday cheer But unlike Santa Claus, I don't come once a year Till I collapse I'm popping caps in her a** Off in Mexico with Mr. White cooking gla** Hit the gas! This beat is almost over, but guess what?! *Laughs* She's still bent over