You Don’t Know

"I'm underground like the gutter, you never catch me stutter, everybody knows that I'm Butta"

So shut the fuck up when you see me in person
Pay attention to the words and don't bother me when I'm working
Every session write a verse, every show spit a free
Disrespect me get slayed instantly
Interrupt my song, get embarrassed on the spot
Try to heckle me but I'm harassing them like cops
Wear my energy from the station and parking lots
Same place emcees get blazed when I'm sparking pot
Send a warning shot to your people acting tough
Send times I don't wanna rhyme, all these rappers suck
I've had enough of these wack ass fuck wannabes
Jumping down to the front of the crowd like pardon me
But honestly all I hear is wackness from faggots
Try battling get stung by savage Dead Rabbits
The madness take over when I hear your crew rap
Where you performing, where you pay dues at

[Hook]

Hype type loud, hearing noises in the crowd
Tell them shut they fucking mouth
You don't know what you talking about
Keep your voices down, I'm destroying the sound
Avoiding your pounds
You don't know what the fuck you talking about

Mic like blaow, hearing noises in the crowd
Tell them shut they fucking mouth
You don't know what you talking about
Keep your voices down, I'm destroying the sound
Avoiding your pounds
You don't know what the fuck you talking about

Cowards don't know, would you talk about something
Keep your faggot mouth closed cuz I rip out throats
Never wanna hear another song, keep your muzzle on
Surrounded by haters, now all the mothafucking love is gone
Crowd full of traitors, they just want to hear them self shit
You performing selfish, out back with an L lit
I drop intelligence, words you speak irrelevant
Bury your epitaph deep in the sediment
Even your presidents stay quiet when I'm rhyming
Interrupt the state of the union and you stay silent
I don't give a fuck, club promoter or owner, squash your head
Like Bolic did give me the cold shoulder
I'm Buttatones you're lucky to get a verse in the cypher
Freestyle in spirit and the words in the fire
Rap sounds great black clouds in the ozone
When you get on the mic I know it's time to go home

(Hook)

All I hear is blah blah blah noise when you flow
You're sad only the bartender and your boys at the show
I know ya hear us but are you listening
I places wages whether you'll be lip singing or whispering
Emcee ??, you can't control the crowd
Fuck gravity, nothing hold me down
Hold your pound, save your applause, fuck your awards
I don't need recognition, credit, spitting just at tours
Back stage clowning semi famous rappers with publicists
Fuck what you spit, tell your wife suck my dick
Now they headlining, get outshined by the first kid who rhyme
Old timers on a slow decline, can't see too blind
Keep your cut lips closed when I'm up at shows
Talk about what you know, won't piss off Buttatones
And don't bring your ego unless you're ready to prove it
It's okay to bring your fam but never their music

(Hook)