(Ali, the baddest muthafucka there ever...)



[VERSE 1: Brother Ali]

I'm chokin players like I'm Bob Knight, choke the coaches like I'm Spreewell

They bowin to the 'Sayers till they knees swell

I shake the game up worse than Single White Females

Walkin to they car alone flashin three bills

These little kids are talkin 'bout how little I know

Boy, I grab a mic and rock you like your Triple 5 Soul

With a civilized flow, but if you say my name I'm like Beetlejuice

Dice you up and slap you till your teeth are loose

I've seen the noose and will not get lynched by the industry

Nor will I have a A&R pimpin me stickin his thing in me

I'd sing for free for some years if it's clear to me

That if I'm there for my team they're there for me

For real, I be diligently killin the soliloquies

Of these millipeds that try to pass themselves off as ill MC's

I weave a web of words so intricately

That the English dictionary lacks an adjective to fit me

If he want my album tell him not to fuck with ATAK

He was hatin and Slug told the bitch to send my tapes back

And if I lose my voice then instead of sayin raps

I start paintin facts on the wall with hot crayola crayon wax



[CHORUS x2]

You're now rockin with the champion

You know you're in a war that can't be won

You need to stop and understand me, son

Cause I got a pocket full and I can hand you some



[VERSE 2]

I wasn't lyin 'bout them muthafuckin hairy hands

Well how you think I tear a man till he can barely stand?

I share the land with hustlers hollerin my chorus back

I'll do anything for the cats that show support like that

When I battle they hold my back, y'all most be smokin crack

Eyes are screamin, "I ain't supposed to rap," come on, you know you're wack

These Minnesota cats touch down in places where it's dormant at

Bring they muthafuckin trophies back

I'm like big up my man Optimus Prime

I'm like what the fuck do rappers got in they mind?

I might jump on the stage and start hollerin rhymes

Maybe bend your back around and make you swallow your spine

Cause it's clear you ain't seen no one this tight in years

When I sing I can bring Brian McKnight to tears

I have to consume, Ali capture a room

And before my son was born I made him dance in the womb

MC's put up your titles, I be grabbin em soon

Them faggots are doomed, worse than breathing hazardous fumes

Like [heavy breathing] (There it is)

Yes, now let the magic resume

Biatch



[CHORUS]