Run This Town

Never did I think I wasn't that nigga Couple labels said they couldn't sign a fat nigga I went home got in the zone grabbed that pad, nigga Now they kickin' theyself in they ass, look they calves bigger Years later still ain't got a six pack, nigga My fat belly still jiggles when I laugh, nigga I coulda stayed on the block, I'm still a crack pitcher Y'all turned away and made back 'fore I act vigor Your wife complaining cause she want her ass bigger I'm living life, erry night I'm like Jack Tripper Y'all showed your ass when y'all was all in the mag' pictures Now you're in the backround ya little ad libber Now everybody won't be buddy buddy Cause I stay in the light like funny looking money Nigga I'm nice like your first grade teacher Hard not to floss when your bars got a cough Your songs got the HIV and there's SARS on your thoughts If me and you ever lyrically sparred then you lost You on Earth in a lemon I'm on Mars in a Porsche And it's a 9-11 like behind oh of course I ball like playing Rajon Rondo in horse My condo in New York is like an obstacle course My hallways longer than a far throw to Morse N.Y. what it do, I do this rhyme shit for you Walk around like what's the next beat that I'm gonna chew So that's what I decided to do through all the sweats And the kicks hit this track and now I run it too Sometimes I hear myself and I'm like damn That's what happens when I'm in front of a mic stand? My flow is almost as hard as my right hand You beating me up's like a Muslim saying he likes ham Seen niggas come and go overnight fam One hit careers, my career has a lifespan Ever wonder what a one hit wonder is First bat in the pros wasn't single, but he swung and missed And every fuckin' pitch they threw after that Can't make contact, the fans scream "This batter's whack!" When I'm up, they like "Yes, Big yaowa papi!" Cause for years I've been clutch like a Kawasaki Point out anything you heard from me that sounded sloppy Yeah that's right keep searching like you're out of Sake Any time I'm in that booth you get your ass whipped And I'mma keep on fighting like Brad Pitt Y'all ain't got the luxury to pick if you gon' fuck with me What I spits crazy like glue so your stuck with me So y'all can hate me or y'all can sing along Competitions dead like a bee when its stinger's gone YAOWA! YAOWA!