Uiznotanemcee Songtext
von LPG

Yeah
I rocked them mics on blocks where Glocks swap war stories
And rocks sing the song of the hustler′s game
Game, same game where I gained my fame
Fame, using them same mics to defend my name in rhyme fights
Then I took it to the stage with a 12 gauge, went and paged
Kept it on safety 'til a knocka tried to engage me in battle
Switch the style to free and unravel my fullest self
And a load from the lip pulled blanks that be sure to be felt
Now deal with it, some never dealt a bad hand
Comin′ real with it, never sleep 'cause I shot the sandman
I'm 7′6" of dynamite encased in C4 And I′m boxing your name to the center of nuclear war
Those who swore wouldn't explode got their arms blown off
From trying to hold down LPG for blowing up the underground
And we high, so if you feel yourself suddenly getting warm
Best find shelter from the rain, we taking the rap game by storm
And swarm your neighborhood, dropping B′s on MC's
And while y′all just scratch the surface, we deep in mentality
And different realities, dealing dimensions and such
To get in gear is automatic, but I'm still breaking the clutch
And I′m sharp to the touch and stay top off your chest
Decapitate your style to be a cut above the rest, 'cause

You is not an MC
With empty air-headed messages, let it be known
We've grown incredibly irritated with your tones
Enough to show you firsthand how the spot get blown
′Cause you ain′t no real MC
With empty air-headed messages, let it be known
We've grown incredibly irritated with your tones
Enough to show you firsthand how the spot get blown


I′ma crash your paper stack with ink splashing my beliefs
Catch me on West Covina curbs with words smashing out my teeth
And I be asking, "Who in this circle think they can get around?"
Watch me turn y'all crew blue and purple like Jordan downs
Pounding y′all into the ground the old-fashioned this way
And I'm ready for the rest of y′all like the end of the sixth day
And I'm sure you ain't heard a word I say, moving too quickly
And scampering about with the transience of a gypsy

I come across the lost that′s frequent as puffy floss
Brothers didn′t know I flipped it 'til they punk butt got tossed
Claiming miscommunication, they didn′t know the cost
But it's too late, they crucified ′cause lines was crossed
So I stripped them of their name and now they identified
As the ones who took pride in the fact that at least we tried
But if that's the case, then you should bring your whole crew
So they can all take pride in getting ripped apart with you

We tip the scale
On heavy weights, if you′re on a 12-inch plate, you trip and fell
In a hopeless state not knowing where you rate, tell
Us how you hate what we create, but we only concentrate
On what we know and not what's gonna sell

You is not an MC
With empty air-headed messages, let it be known
We've grown incredibly irritated with your tones
Enough to show you firsthand how the spot get blown
′Cause you ain′t no real MC
With empty air-headed messages, let it be known
We've grown incredibly irritated with your tones
Enough to show you firsthand how the spot get blown

I′m a brother with a plan and a hand
Full of down straight holding it, never found fold in it
Grow old in it, my education came in
Whether I was relating a message or 58ing
Out a classroom, hating on players 'cause players indicating game
This ain′t a game, so many lives at stake and Satan is taking aim
And I'm staking claim to greatness, representing Christ′s name
Bold in it, gold like ain't a crown of gold in it
And that's to it in the skies that my doves get lifted in
And bluer than the cries that John Lee Hooker′s gifted in
Been known I prone to hustle whether
Ruffled feathers, it makes no diff
Take a breath and shake these words off my lips
Making sure the earth feel my shift and quakes on they plane with
Plates of sane talking while walking that straight lane
Speaking to the aches and pains of a child with nothing to gain
I be bold in it, not worried about how much I sold in it
Like your million dollar videos for promoting it, hoping it gon′ hit
But when my eyes close, it sound like junk
With a crew full of punks
And I'm a brother with a plan
And a handful of down straight holding it

You is not an MC
With empty air-headed messages, let it be known
We′ve grown incredibly irritated with your tones
Enough to show you firsthand how the spot get blown
'Cause you ain′t no real MC
With empty air-headed messages, let it be known
We've grown incredibly irritated with your tones
Enough to show you firsthand how the spot get blown
You is not an MC
With empty air-headed messages, let it be known
We′ve grown incredibly irritated with your tones
Enough to show you firsthand how the spot get blown
'Cause you ain't no real MC
With empty air-headed messages, let it be known
We′ve grown incredibly irritated with your tones
Enough to show you firsthand how the spot get blown