Pianist Envy

You say you're in the house, well I'm evicting your ass
You thinner than glass, and winning is a thing of the past
You went to relax because you'll never be a heavy hitter
Getting 'fucked' in front everybody like the Hilton sisters
Thing is it doesn't matter what coast you represent
Nobody cares even though that you boast its heaven sent
Because it just aint relevant when it comes to skill
Should use lyrics instead of fuse guns to kill
My style's scandalous, I manage this with Cannabis
While eating banana splits, I can't posses so stand up bitch
You're like a man with tits, cause you swallowing everything
With cream and manage fits while hollering petty lings
I'm letting everybody doubt me while pointing in my directions
Always want to talk about me while joining inside erections
Never going to be in Audi's, I'm going to find attention
Never going to change my shotties I'm hoping to be accepted
This is no trick, I won't bitch whether you don't spit
My crome gets on chicks, I get her with dope fits
I hope it's glow sticks and hoes with stone tits
I hold fists, quote this: I blow this whole set
You say I'm insane, I take that as a compliment
And stay on my game while fake cats just condescend
I pray everyday the same way that you follow it
And wait on my fait and play safe with the politics
I make local whores cry till vocal chords die
Still hope I wont fry, I'm loco, why try
To fly in the sky, I'm always being held down
I try but I sigh because I'm seeing hell now

Chorus:

Fuck bling bling, I rock the fake ice
Fuck that, I don't really rock anything nice
People bragging they murder, please, the only think you kill
Is my buzz every time I hear you try to be ill
Come on, what the fuck you trying to do? Murk the track?
You can't 'fuck' up shit, you just flirt with rap
And run around telling people that you cruising in cars
That's shit wack, like Bush telling us we moving to Mars
A message from you're ho's people: men sent for you
You're bitch is a Home Depot; ten cents a 'screw'
Pissing in my backyard, yellower than urine can be
Try and act hard when you cried during Bambi
You're staff'll follow me, fight a dumb fait
You're half my quality like a dubbed tape
I'm stuck gritty so I hit me a thug
You couldn't 'fuck' with me if you slipped me the drug
Wouldn't be hope, you super choke on bedpans
You couldn't be 'dope' if you were smoked by Redman
Rob Santana, find Britney and gang-bang her
I '(w)rap' around 'jokes' like Sean Paul's bandana
I talk to God at night, he said the world is fake
He did it on purpose, the real ones attract hate
He hopes we can stick together, united we stand
Not united like the States who's always fighting his plans
Can't get the best of me, I curse and answer agents
I leave you're destiny worse than cancer patients
Hey hold it please, you're going to cease to be
And I'm molded cheese, you don’t want a 'piece of me'
Now you got the spark lit cause you wants to hate it
You don't want to start shit cause you're constipated
Talent don't get you signed, looks and image do
Rhymes don't make you popular, hooks and clingage do

Chorus

It's like Everyday I wake up asking what the fuck is this?
To get anything, I got to suck his dick?
FUCK THAT, I'd rather eat the pussy of a dyke
Who's on her period, delirious lyricist, yes I'm serious
Stupid street MCs asking me if I want to battle
Don't spit like a rapper, instead they spit the shit like a camel
Spitting so quick that their words are barely coherent
Half that shit don't even rhyme, well that’s if you can hear it
You can't murder me verbally, you get burned third degree
You ain't heard of me surely, I return your shirt for free
After you lost it, you cried like whores in horror movies
You scared of me fairly as if I got a lot of toolies
Fuck spitting on mics, I'll fuck you're girl's cunt with it
Shove it so far up, you're grubby hands just can't get it
Then shove you inside her womb too just for good measure
And the pimples on your face'll make it ribbed for her pleasure
Me I know that I wont make it in this game
Mostly because I think faking it's lame
All the same, my face aint pretty enough
And I can't really claim my city is tough
Therefore I can never be a hip hop rapper
Those are the pre requisites and you need a masters
I feed these bastard when I purchase CDs
So fuck that, these pianists prefer to hear me

Chorus

I grab bats to crack and attack the back packers
For gag laughs, the fact is I smack the wack rappers
For bad math, I pack this high stack mad factors
A mad man, I'm blasting my crafty back stabbers
I don't support fights with tykes who fly kites
Neither am I the type who likes to fight dykes
My sanity's light, I might just bite pipes
And when tragedy strikes, I fight for my rights
Never claimed to be gangsta or a brother kid
The only arms you possess are the ones you hug each other with (FAGS)
Quit lying, you can't even spell A.K.
The same way you a fag but claim to hate gays
Give me a break, the industry's too fake for me to be in
Judging by all the lies and deceiving that I'm seeing
I'm sick of boasting bout how I drop the coldest rhymes
Yo fuck that, this shit aint worth a closing line