Song parody of
Nothin' 2 Play Wit
by Coughlin
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Legend? I don’t know, but I’d like ta’ be legendary.
Before I’m buried 6 feet up in the cemetery...
Mid October thoughts racin’ and they kinda scary.
I’m kinda hairy, blame it on my capillaries.
The girls love it, the dudes wan’ dub it
‘cause they know when I’m around, like drunk food they wanna grub it.
Critics wanna snub it, they don’t understand
The blueprint in my hand ta’ my master plan.
Ta’ be ranked with Big and Pac
Em, Jay, Nas, Cole, K-Dot.
A juggernaut, feel me or not I’m bound ta’ have at least one ink blot you think’s hot.
Was supposed to go bar for bar with Siege.
But he gone now, Rest In Peace.
Guess he left this up ta’ me. Ta’ spit somethin’ that leave y’all on ya’ knees.
Lord please, give me the strength ta’ make the prodigy proud, I’ll go ta’ any length.
Fuck the fame, fuck the pride, I’ll carry his name, I’ll even pass the bank.
Just ta’ hold the rank, give me respect.
Already make 6 figures, fuck a check.
Fuck the bitch who waitin’ side line,
Already get one wet, and she all mine.
Every move I make is by design,
Everyone can hate, you ain’t on my mind.
I know it’s soothin’ pharmaceutical usin’
Ta’ numb the pain, but what the fuck are we doin’?!?
We losin’... mans everyday ta’ shit we turn to ta’ take pain away.
What’s there to say when music’s no longer the gateway that’s enough ya’ make it through the day?
Bottom line: it’s a fine line, the shit ain’t nothin’ ta’ play with.
I’m a problem on the grind, yeah I ain’t one ta’ play with.
The delivery, the rhymes: this shit ain’t nothin’ ta’ play with.
Don’t quit ‘cha day job, always be one that just plays with.
Multiple directions, despite complexion. Real recognize real from eye contact to inflection.
It’s all perception, but what’s crazy.
Pick up a guitar and the people get all hazy
Do you think I forgot how ta’ rap?
Did y’all forget that’s what put me on the map?
Had time ta’ shine, but told y’all I’m back.
My pen and pad turned ta’ a handheld Mac,
But I’m still old school as fuck.
Invite anyone ta’ try ya’ luck.
I’m 50: you Buck, I’m Jay: you Bleek, I’m Drake: you Meek, I’m Robin Hood: you Friar Tuck.
That’s it, boy, time is up.
Like a HQ question got you stuck.
Not a winner, not even a runner up.
You a beginner, a pee-pad pup.
It’s been a minute, but ya’ know I’m back up in this.
You musta’ lost touch while you were sippin’ on ya’ Guinness.
You start, you know I’m gonna finish. You ain’t got no business with this. I’m a pro., you: a blemish.
Took a little break, observed, now replenished.
The hunger for more roars ‘til all y’all finished.
Mortal Kombat shit, I’m on that.
Y’all rap by numbers, but can’t count so fall back.
This is not somethin’ you can fake or just half ass
Gotta be all in like Bulgar: Black Mass.
For the dough I dash, doe-ci-doe.
Uproar like Kendrick on Control.
That’s the wave I’m tryin’ ta’ create.
Eat y’all food then smash the plate.
‘til someone comes along pickin’ up the pieces.
And re-forms they own way ta’ repeat this.
Legend? I don’t know, but I’d like ta’ be legendary.
Before I’m buried 6 feet up in the cemetery...
Mid October thoughts racin’ and they kinda scary.
I’m kinda hairy, blame it on my capillaries.
The girls love it, the dudes wan’ dub it
‘cause they know when I’m around, like drunk food they wanna grub it.
Critics wanna snub it, they don’t understand
The blueprint in my hand ta’ my master plan.
Ta’ be ranked with Big and Pac
Em, Jay, Nas, Cole, K-Dot.
A juggernaut, feel me or not I’m bound ta’ have at least one ink blot you think’s hot.
Was supposed to go bar for bar with Siege.
But he gone now, Rest In Peace.
Guess he left this up ta’ me. Ta’ spit somethin’ that leave y’all on ya’ knees.
Lord please, give me the strength ta’ make the prodigy proud, I’ll go ta’ any length.
Fuck the fame, fuck the pride, I’ll carry his name, I’ll even pass the bank.
Just ta’ hold the rank, give me respect.
Already make 6 figures, fuck a check.
Fuck the bitch who waitin’ side line,
Already get one wet, and she all mine.
Every move I make is by design,
Everyone can hate, you ain’t on my mind.
I know it’s soothin’ pharmaceutical usin’
Ta’ numb the pain, but what the fuck are we doin’?!?
We losin’... mans everyday ta’ shit we turn to ta’ take pain away.
What’s there to say when music’s no longer the gateway that’s enough ya’ make it through the day?
Bottom line: it’s a fine line, the shit ain’t nothin’ ta’ play with.
I’m a problem on the grind, yeah I ain’t one ta’ play with.
The delivery, the rhymes: this shit ain’t nothin’ ta’ play with.
Don’t quit ‘cha day job, always be one that just plays with.
Multiple directions, despite complexion. Real recognize real from eye contact to inflection.
It’s all perception, but what’s crazy.
Pick up a guitar and the people get all hazy
Do you think I forgot how ta’ rap?
Did y’all forget that’s what put me on the map?
Had time ta’ shine, but told y’all I’m back.
My pen and pad turned ta’ a handheld Mac,
But I’m still old school as fuck.
Invite anyone ta’ try ya’ luck.
I’m 50: you Buck, I’m Jay: you Bleek, I’m Drake: you Meek, I’m Robin Hood: you Friar Tuck.
That’s it, boy, time is up.
Like a HQ question got you stuck.
Not a winner, not even a runner up.
You a beginner, a pee-pad pup.
It’s been a minute, but ya’ know I’m back up in this.
You musta’ lost touch while you were sippin’ on ya’ Guinness.
You start, you know I’m gonna finish. You ain’t got no business with this. I’m a pro., you: a blemish.
Took a little break, observed, now replenished.
The hunger for more roars ‘til all y’all finished.
Mortal Kombat shit, I’m on that.
Y’all rap by numbers, but can’t count so fall back.
This is not somethin’ you can fake or just half ass
Gotta be all in like Bulgar: Black Mass.
For the dough I dash, doe-ci-doe.
Uproar like Kendrick on Control.
That’s the wave I’m tryin’ ta’ create.
Eat y’all food then smash the plate.
‘til someone comes along pickin’ up the pieces.
And re-forms they own way ta’ repeat this.
