I'm like, "Yo fuck that I can spit! ". Ha. So uh, let me just lay down mad bars. (Mad bars) Yeah. I'll spit a whole bunch of bars Re-roll up cigars.
how it turn to go You gotta earn your own chips Never lose focus Bang it til your ears goin deaf like Moses I'm on vibrate, buzzin' all crazy Haters gettin' mad
how will I use it? Uhhh, I put it all in the music Cause y'all pussies Fold away before they hand the cards Broke-ass rappin' now you Dancin' With The Stars I'm handling these bars
cordially we throwin' racks, she said please don't talk to me All my niggas is winning, shout out to Charlie Sheen I spitting bars the metronome the money
James Breakin these hoes wasnt enough so I copped haze You other guys just mad cuz you not paid Who wanna rap? Believe I got word play Ya Boy got more bars
Blast for me, the task after me For a few years sheddin tattooed tears like Gram' Sammy, we feudin for the whole damn family We scarred up, homies is barred up for mad
raised on, on my block Chancellor Ave, where many turn to the street, thugs snatchin bags We out for power, makin cash it wasn't fast it'll make me mad
sick of the chinks and I'm sick of the bars I'm sick of the sea and blows to the stars I'm sad yea its getting me mad hah, I'm tired of you pulling on
Tell your mami, i catch her on the street i'ma get her She know i'm on parole, why she call police on a nigga She jus' mad, cuz a nigga pockets all swoll
it's Showtime at the Apollo Damn near every rapper gotta hide sixteen Well my flow's like a ho that's sixteen I ran through niggas, dismantled niggas They mad
to the left of Teddy Kennedy That's how I want you to remember me Fuck around and lose your title, round is suicidal You frontin' hard with no bars like
yo I stay loose like a, decayed tooth Call shots like Babe Ruth, sippin the Grey Goose The Je-sus of rap, you haters just mad Cause {*censored*} is on
legend You, are the man And there's a mighty big difference between the two [Beyonder] Rock with me y'all Rock with me y'all Rock rock rock with me y'all Bars
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? You ain't mad at me dog, you mad
8Ball:] Yea... Get drunk and throw your cups up and smoke. It ain't Bob Marley if you don't cough and choke. All haters somewhere hatin cause they mad
