Your Old Droog - Facts 3 lyrics

[Verse 1: Wiki] Facts, react To him, better act like-like-like a motherf**er know Hold back [?] I'm grown Flown different continents Boned different kinds of chicks Grown to this kind of sh** Don't need no acknowledgements, no That's facts I'm back in the city and I just got into the zone So, what you want from me? Wanna come for me? Come for me - motherf**er let's go Even if I'm left on the floor you'll still be broke And I'll still be getting me dough [?] And I'm saying "f** you" to get to your dome Facts, man, facts, man Y'all a bunch of little petty rap fans It's the New York pack man It's like facts, man, facts, fans Y'all a bunch of little shi tty rap fans It's the New York pack man, look Truth The only thing I wanna hear ringing through the streets man Ringing through the booth Youth They don't wanna hear all the sh** they say up on the news Man, what you gonna do? Forgetting everything you sick of Got me looking like a sick duck - really how I look Not for real but I'm still at it and getting my dick s**ed Now we back before the bridge when I live up We did the same sh**: get lit Till we found a chick-let that was with it and we give up Hah, never that - I forever rap But I hardly ever wrap my dick up Just [?] [?] With a quick touch You off, you a moth I'm a bu*terfly, all them other guys [?] Yep, did I stutter? Nah, nah, nah motherf**er if you wonder why I [?] Motherf**er give up [Verse 2: Your Old Droog] Give it up like my song said Draped in ice, gold medallions, not Italian, getting long bread Forget the wrong side, I woke up in the wrong bed A lot of cats weak when they alive but they strong dead Make 'em put the microphone down Literary genius, couldn't even tell you what's a pronoun These known clones need to come with their own sound 'Bout to start a whack rapper Jonestown, facts All I hear is facsimilers Spitting mediocre-a** metaphors and whack similes Getting sick of these copycats Heard me say "copy" and they copy that (what the f**?) Bunch of fraudulent scholars in the game 'cause they got overstudied in the past Talking "real rap" but they wouldn't know hip-hop if it came up and bit 'em on the a** Garbage getting heavy play, trouble coming everyday Dude, sh** is looking real sad Mad 'cause they idolize the rap star and that makes it real clear that you didn't have a dad That's what they had It's [?] for these seeds getting raised by Worldstar and Vlad How is Old Droog, the drop-out of junior college Dropping more knowledge than a so-called graduate Had you at bar one, bar none In the booth, this is arson And we don't know who you are, son Just a lame, what's your name? I don't care People only hear you 'cause it's there Shoved down throats while they come to me You were sonning me - now you know who your pops is A little synopsis, a summary From a G like Wes Montgomery Had to flex versatility I'm unique, mostly technique, no agility Question my ability I'll be the personal trainer for your exercise in futility b**h