RE-RESURRECT
Allen Ash
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R-r-ruling like a boss Came up with the sauce Mosh pit like we playing moss Eyes criss-cross Give me a couple years to make a bigger hit than Rick Ross But now I'm 'a spit soft Psyche I'm pissed off (Pissed off) All you rappers come and diss me I can take a hit All these rappers, they commit But they never make a hit Can't stand this, boy Why don't you just take a sit I don't wanna babysit Flying daggers, no pistol on you Flying guillotine, let's figure out who's head it fits onto I might have to kill you but I don't really want to Wait who are you Take off the costume Oops, wait you really just look like that? Damn, you really left me shook like that Like really, how the hell you look like that Wait, lemme stop, watch, you gonna tell the cops You sensitive little boys Playing with your little toys Stop tryna act tough before growing into a bigger boy Or continue to get humiliated, really your choice I'm giving you a voice (Voice) Psyche boy Like stop making all o' this noise Shut up, like I don't really wanna hear you I don't even wanna get near you, but I don't fear you 'Cause you're like a mouse, I-I-I'm a lion You can tell that I'm not lying 'Cause you're listening while crying Music is a science You can't put a hi-hat and snare piercing my ears And expect it to last for years, like it brings me to tears Like thinking one day rap might not be here That's my number one fear (Fear) Rap was basically dead, and I had to resurrect So boy show me respect, doing a favor for the rest Put out a good song, make money Really cause and effect But you're looking at me like I got six legs, insect You thinking it's easy to make it I cannot take this Stop your whining and go to the studio But you're probably wasting money 'cause your raps are doody, yo Don't make another GUMMO remix, yea that's kinda fruity, yo Like some fruity pebbles, but I prefer the cocoa Relating to Young M.A., not related but I'm loco I remember that rap battle we planned, you were a no show They say life's a picture, better step out of the photo Screaming turning orange in the face like Oompa Loompa Said you write your own lyrics, sounds fishy like some tuna Cu-cuban on my neck, you better check yours at the jeweler's Looks like some plastic like a dollar store ruler Ha ha, yea I'm laughing You're saddened What happened Imagine, actually rapping Instead of all of that capping Talking 'bout that skill that you're actually lacking You're actually acting like you're factually rapping When your girl come up to me, she always acting starstruck Her eyes light up like the lights next to my car trunk Sad that you think you're better, my heart sunk Your raps are good, psyche, that's why I'm ripping out parts of 'em Talking 'bout you gonna shoot me with a shotgun But you ain't got one Said you gon' pop me like a perc but you ain't ever pop one You're getting triggered, ooo you a little hot one You wishin' I would finish but I'm not done Said you gon' pop me like a bottle, you ain't ever bought one Underage lil kid, you will never be a rapper Best believe right now you're not one On the billboards, in a couple years I will be the top one Not planted in this industry No one-handed or gave to me On a playlist, I'm easily added like 2 plus 3 Music's a gift that keeps giving like what Santa puts under trees Or candy, wonderful treat Taken for granted easily Don't need autotune to sell a song on iTunes I'm like Rakim (Rockin) with a rap habit, I had to use it Silly rabbit, huh, tricks are for kids I'm not gon' rob you, but I'll still be hitting licks after licks Try to run up on me you definitely gonna die Put you up in the sky Psyche, put you in the ground Dig you back up three days later then put you right back down Wiggity-wack rappers wanna take my crown This is my town, I'm always around Serving the sounds and flows people hear and know You're no Eminem or Cole And you're certainly not IQ, ha, ha, ha No, no, no "Quit all that yelling down there boy" "Sorry, dad" "Hey, let me ask you something" "Yea" "Did I hear something about a flying guillotine" "Yea" "That's my boy"
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