Mercy killing

7L and Esoteric

    Continues after the ad

    You can find me in the club where the huns at
    Muthafuck that trucker hat hug-rap
    I know who I am, who I be, who I always was
    Not a rapper that would dis another just to start a buzz
    You should know that, just let the beef go away
    How many weathermen do I have to slay
    El-P give that mouth a rest
    Go and get yourself in shape give that couch a rest
    I sent you a demo in 94 with straight original shit
    No scientifical shit
    And you cats talk about it like it's still in your whip
    If you're large as you say, why you still sweating Shay?
    Pissed cuz I reminisce about boom-bap
    You just made cuz you make your money off nerd-rap
    And can never change that, the fact you make soft shit
    Embarassed so you gotta remind us about the profit
    Sorry that I study from the blueprint
    And don't associate with your nerd-rap movement
    "Independently I sold..." man, get over yourself
    Every interview I read it's like your blowing yourself
    Putting doe on your shelf? Stop hoeing yourself
    You're a herb, look at you, you know it yourself!
    I showed you love from day one and I kept on
    But now you upset because your boys got stepped on
    If you were as smart as you claim to be
    And had beef muthafucker you should've came to me
    But no, write a dis, hope you won't get caught
    Cuz you know I never peep shit from Gaysop Rock
    Listen, I liked Funcrusher that was that
    But then you heard Dr. Octagon and never looked back
    "Blue Flowwwers" Allow me flex my true powers
    And send this fucking hobbit back to the two towers
    ..............No I'm not stopping yet
    Bars of Death ain't done it ain't dropping yet
    I got jokes about your face believe me
    But dissing you because of your looks is too easy
    You can't help that you a Keebler elf, "Mr. Be Yourself"
    You should see yourself
    I saw that DVD man I can't understand
    Why you find it so hard to shake a fan's hand
    These are the cats that love you when you do shit
    And actually think the stuff you make is music
    But this is hip-hop kid don't confuse it
    With herbs trying to hard to make "that new shit"
    Bitching about doing a show for short change is fine
    But taping it is assinine
    Then releasing it? That's an ego trip
    Get off your own dick, that's some ego shit (fuck outta here)
    Revolution ain't them beats you record
    Sounding like my girl's cat when it walks across my keyboard
    You ain't different, you just can't work your equipment
    Now don't come back with that run-on sentence rap
    Spit it slow, so I can understand you, yo
    Went from Co-Flow to no flow, rushing your rhymes

    No punchlines, just a bunch of punched in lines
    Bed-wetter, you as hip-hop as Eddie Vetter
    If you a true b-boy, explain that mohawk and the Fred Perry sweater
    That look is priceless!
    Now who's the muthafucker with the identity crisis?

    Continues after the ad

    You ain't mad at me dog, you mad at what you've become

    [part 2]

    Banned from New York? Muthafucka don't sleep
    I got a freak in each borough, I was there last week
    You cancelling shows in Boston, acting shook
    Say you from Harlem, telling me to come to Red Hook
    You wanna rep Brooklyn? Ain't no Biggie in you
    Fat sloppy fuck sound like Winnie the Pooh
    Plus dwelling on this beef is a bad decision
    The only fight you ever had is with your own metabolism
    Making them mixtapes, mainstream coverband
    Wannabe G-Unit but sold like 3 units? Damn!
    Baby Huey talks like he had a stroke
    I remember when he told me "Be Alert" was sooo dope
    You was a fan home soaking the bed
    See when I was eating rappers you was eating loaves of bread
    A big oaf with dreads and a clammy handshake
    Now you making records that even your fans hate
    I'll treat you like a Taun-Taun, and slash your flesh
    And give New York's homeless a place to rest
    It ain't about the Weathermen, it's whether or not your men
    Whether or not your femme, Vast drop and gimme 10
    Know your limits, Grimace, you can't finish
    All out of shape fishing for beef but out of bait
    Sherman Klump's in a writing slump no lie
    Nutty Proffessor, minus the sweater and bow tie
    Come take my lotto? Man, that's a waste
    With that tape, all you really robbing is your fan base
    You be claiming you a man but got big saggy tits
    Coppin all your sweaters from a store for fat chicks
    "If this was 86..." man if this was 86
    You'd be sitting in baby shit, crying for some cake and shit
    "Vast is deep!" You kids don't understand
    Anyone can sound deep to an overzealous fan
    So protect that neck Shrek, before I strike again
    You and El-P = Lenny and George from Mice & Men
    The shit is getting old but the beef is fun
    It's like, 5 on 1 I got you fuckers on the run
    So get your facts straight, stop running your mouths
    I keep this mic with me, dog come and get m

    Song details

    Composition:

    Did you see an error?

    Enviar revisão