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A lyrical style that transcends boundaries,
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Crossing over 'cause I found these styles and sounds free
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Of mainstream taming
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There's no one else for blaming so I took responsibility
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For the same thing as the sucker in the white hood,
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The brother in the hoodie killed the white supremist goodie-goodie
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A battered brother's blood is on my hands
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'Cause the man in the grandstand tried to rub it off when he
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Snubbed a soft follower that followed his or her commands
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And got beat like a bitch in heat -- Goddamn
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Now that my pitch fell what the hell?
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The style's too complex to be vexed by a simple minded sucker
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Can you tell? I doubt it so you'll catch an enema
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Hose running through your head cleaning out your dreads
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Or cleaning out your wallet the scheming sex fiend
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You ain't jack shit and never amounted to a hill of beans
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You're running around in circles and I'm lurking in the dark
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You're more oblivious to my lyrics than Lois is to Clark
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Wake up to the show like Sway and Tech in California
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If your album flops, no excuses 'cause I warned ya:
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Using the same style throughout every record
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Will burn your fans out you gots to come unexpected
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Come with the new flavor for they ears
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Cause they'll buy more records if they like what they hear
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Simple economics: it's the bomb, it'll sell
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It's weak as shit, freaking send the shit to hell
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Sign yourself to Warner Brothers and sign your life away
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Major label deals appeal to those like Dr. Dre
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Motherfuckers with the same sorry ass sound
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High pitch synth squeals and cheesy drum pounds
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I'll call you Barbie 'cause you're like a nude toy
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Messin' with the Laze: the roughest rude boy
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Draw the battle lines 'cause the battle rhymes are coming
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We'll rhyme, pour a drink, and eat dinner while we humming
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Check out the jazz beat that's flowing down the Music River
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I'm about to give an enema to the public
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They dub this and bootleg it many times
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But many rhymes are stored and if not I'll freestyle
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Meanwhile, others be searching for a meaning
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Me defeated? Please... pinch yourself you must be dreaming
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Huh, I'll never be taken down by any fool
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'Cause any fool would know that many ladies drool
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Over the Laze 'cause the praise I deserve
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Can't be expressed by a predicate, noun, or verb
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A master of the English language and the linguists
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Say "this thing can't be from here"
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Cause I'm cunning and I be running for office,
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Rhymes out the orifice, time to pass off this mic (check it)
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Roughest Rude Boy
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Laze |