Picture me tryin' to prove myself

Like I'm convinced a shot of vodka would improve my health

Or move my wealth to seven-hundred-and-four figures

Got more niggas tryin' to hate on my flow than Rah Digga

Bigger balls than last year, I'm cocky as ever

And more fly than a box of Czechoslovakian sweaters

When I hop in the Jetta

I put my CD on blast

If you don't like me nigga fuck you, kiss my ass

I ain't got nothin' to prove, so you can beat it

Niggas heated when I breathe on the mic, I'm so conceited

I give a shit if you don't like what I'm rappin'

Go back to your rims, your grills, your pills, your ice and your trappin'

Y'all ignorant niggas, y'all need help

Don't you know my track record?  Man it speaks for itself

I kept the best beats for myself

My instrumentals out of reach on the shelf

You can't touch me





I don't need to prove myself

I don't need to prove myself





How many times must I tell ya?

Catering to everyone turns you to a failure

That's why I don't get mad when they say that I'm wack

Or hate on my tracks, talkin' all that shit in my ear, yeah

Get off my dick and tell your bitch to come here

The first cat to drop an album and get rich in one year

Got more status in my pinky than Patricia Romer'

In her whole career

Charismatic with a capital K

The Smooth Kriminal is back to put the wackness to shame

It didn't have to happen this way

But I got sick of niggas rappin' the same

You need practice mayne

I'm in a class of my own

The rap game's George Thorogood, I'm +Bad To The Bone+

I'm glad to be home, quit talkin' all that trash on the phone

Don't call me with that bullshit, you can rap to the tone

Holla









I give a fuck who you battled against

Underground/mainstream, yo I straddle the fence

When I step up to the mic, all the kids say "wow"

I'll bet you're probably gonna want me on your mixtape now

It's great how a dude tries to do his own thing

Tries to spread his own wings then a diss breaks out

First album that I dropped was a classic

Took it to the radio and then they tried to trash it

Callin' me a lame but really I'm the last sick

Nigga with a habit of kickin' niggas asses quick

And I don't really give a fuck about who's tough

You'd figure that the lyrics that I'm spittin' would be proof enough

But no; if I ain't talkin' 'bout 'caine-sniffin'

Wood grain-grippin', lane-switchin', bangin' the fifth

Then I ain't really sayin' shit or D. Swain is a bitch

But I ain't changin' what I spit until D. Swain is richer than you

The fuck I gotta listen to you for?

You niggas swear you're too hardcore, I'm havin' fun with this shit