Lyric Hey Fuck You
Which of you schnooks took my rhyme book?
Look give it back you re wicky wack
With your ticky tack calls didn t touch you at all
I didn t touch your hand man you know its all ball
You sold a few records but don t get slick
Cause you used a corked bat to get those hits
You ve been in the game, your career is long
But when you break it down you ve only got 2 songs
MC s are like clay pigeons and I m shootn skeet
I just yell pull and MMM drops the beat
You people call yourselves MC s but you re garbage men
Takin out the trash when you pull out the pen
And if you don t like then hey fuck you!
I read about you up on page 6
They was trashin your ass it s sad you re getting dissed
Now talk about your face now don t get pissed
But I suggest you see a dermatologist
I keep that hot sauce hot not mild and weak
It s gonna burn your mouth until you wet your beak
I ve got billions and billions of rhymes to flex
Cause I ve got more rhymes than Carl Sagan s got turtlenecks
Your rhymes are fake like a Canal Street watch
You re hearing me and you re like "oh my god its Sasquatch!"
I m walkin on water while you re stepping in shit
So put your sewer boots on before your ass gets lit
And if you don t like then hey fuck you!
So put a quarter in your ass cause you played yourself
Sucker MC s it s me they re resenting
In the animal kingdom they call it presenting
With the dipsy doodle the kit and caboodle
The truth is brutal your grandma s kugel
Kings County is my stomping ground
The Albee Square Mall, Brooklyn, Downtown
So don t ask me to wine and dine ya
I m from Brooklyn you re from Regina
You re like Foghorn Leghorn, Yosemite Sam
You re just yellin and wildin wondering who I am
With those lies you re telling you look like Toucan Sam
But my style s impregnable like the Hoover Dam
And if you don t like then hey fuck you!
Look give it back you re wicky wack
With your ticky tack calls didn t touch you at all
I didn t touch your hand man you know its all ball
You sold a few records but don t get slick
Cause you used a corked bat to get those hits
You ve been in the game, your career is long
But when you break it down you ve only got 2 songs
MC s are like clay pigeons and I m shootn skeet
I just yell pull and MMM drops the beat
You people call yourselves MC s but you re garbage men
Takin out the trash when you pull out the pen
And if you don t like then hey fuck you!
I read about you up on page 6
They was trashin your ass it s sad you re getting dissed
Now talk about your face now don t get pissed
But I suggest you see a dermatologist
I keep that hot sauce hot not mild and weak
It s gonna burn your mouth until you wet your beak
I ve got billions and billions of rhymes to flex
Cause I ve got more rhymes than Carl Sagan s got turtlenecks
Your rhymes are fake like a Canal Street watch
You re hearing me and you re like "oh my god its Sasquatch!"
I m walkin on water while you re stepping in shit
So put your sewer boots on before your ass gets lit
And if you don t like then hey fuck you!
So put a quarter in your ass cause you played yourself
Sucker MC s it s me they re resenting
In the animal kingdom they call it presenting
With the dipsy doodle the kit and caboodle
The truth is brutal your grandma s kugel
Kings County is my stomping ground
The Albee Square Mall, Brooklyn, Downtown
So don t ask me to wine and dine ya
I m from Brooklyn you re from Regina
You re like Foghorn Leghorn, Yosemite Sam
You re just yellin and wildin wondering who I am
With those lies you re telling you look like Toucan Sam
But my style s impregnable like the Hoover Dam
And if you don t like then hey fuck you!
