Bourdain

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A Rapper Named Nati

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At the end of the day, I'm better than great
And I don't really give a f*ck how my competitors rate
Dropped five classics on 'em, you could never relate
By the end of the year, probably be seven or eight
I'm so far ahead I could brake for the rest of the race
Take my foot off the mothafuckin' pedal and skate
They don't make instruments that can measure my pace
We ain't the same, the difference is I could never be fake
But the love is fake, so I treasure the hate
It's my pleasure to take the head off a venomous snake
I create masterpieces that get better with age
I'll craft a thesis that makes an intelligent case
For why these rappin' heathens would ever behave
In this depraved manner to gain friends and some fame
Quick to sell your soul for a Benz and a chain
But it don't make sense if you don't have no pennies to save (Get it?)
You don't have to be sorry
No reservations, crashin' your party
Circle back if they saw me
I'm about to feast; I'm famished, I'm starving
Cookin' up the beef like gourmet
We bring the heat and we torch lames
We came to eat off of your plate
You should hang it up - Bourdain
Do it with no hesitation
Might cause some devastation
White chalk and yellow tape it
Lights off; Freddy, Jason
This is how you measure greatness
Don't help with investigations
Outlaw on some Jesse James shit
Goin' off the reservation
Breakin' news on every station
Shake the room whenever bass hit
You can feel the tremors shake it
Six degrees of Kevin Bacon
Listen, we don't ever say shit
Got the stick with me like Kenny Mason (Stick!)
Hittin' trees and vegetation
When the trigger's squeezed with no reservations
You don't have to be sorry
No reservations, crashin' your party
Circle back if they saw me
I'm about to feast; I'm famished, I'm starving
Cookin' up the beef like gourmet
We bring the heat and we torch lames
We came to eat off of your plate
You should hang it up - Bourdain
You know I Kill Audio, Claudio Sanchez
I'll spin the damn block and leave a lot of ya mans dead
In a tinted Jag drop, black Glock and a black vest
Or in a black Benz that I bought from a crackhead (Listen)
I'm from a place where no fucks are given
I'll tape your death and put it on the deluxe edition
Tried to play with the big dogs, you just a kitten (Pussy)
Run up quick, you might come up missin'
You'll get filleted and fried like Kentucky Chicken
They won't know who did it, no one's above suspicion
I use my left hand to adjust the windage
I'm droppin' Def Jams like Russell Simmons
Who you know better with the lyrics or the punchlines?
I'm so clever, it's mysterious I'm unsigned
Feast or Famine, I been hearin' that it's lunch time
And if it's beef, I'ma sear it till it's done right
You don't have to be sorry
No reservations, crashin' your party
Circle back if they saw me
I'm about to feast; I'm famished, I'm starving
Cookin' up the beef like gourmet
We bring the heat and we torch lames
We came to eat off of your plate
You should hang it up - Bourdain
No reservations, let's start the show
Body parts in several places, parts unknown
No reservations, let's start the show
Body parts in several places, parts unknown
Too soon?

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