Hip Hop

Some people say I’m nice, some people say whatever
It really doesn’t matter cause ain't nothing clever
Ever come out of your mouth or out of your crew
So I just drip my sauce, ‘cause that’s what I do
If you want to call me something call me Culture Ragu
Craig Mack when I do it, I got flavor for you
Now, clear my path, yo mic check one-two
As I ride pon the riddim like Eek-a-Mouse do
Who’s you, you’re just another facebook gangsta
Twitter finger dinglelinger instagram wanksta
I’m making sure that you don’t rhyme no more
I spit it on the mic, you should spit it on the floor
And never make more, you’re a hip hop sore
And I’ll be the cure, the Fantastic Four
Yes yes y’all, I got rhymes galore

I’m blazin’ hot, your joint get rocked
Keep it 100 if you like it or not, really I won’t stop
Its hip hop, and I’mma keep it mad funky
Kick snare high hat bass man junkie
Spunky, its a kid people let him live
I’ll break it down to the bone right to the rib
Make you relax like you kick back at the crib
I’m somethin that the people gotta feel or gotta dig
I do a gig like nobody ever did tho
I switch a style like your girl switch a wig yo
I’m in the front while you’re lagging in the rear bro
Think about it, don’t you think thats kinda weird yo?