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Ill Mind Of Hopsin

Hopsin


In high school, Marcus wasn't a helpful student
He dropped out cause teachers would never help him through it
And if I don't save this rap game who else would do it?
This is my motherfucking world, welcome to it
If you thinking that Hop's wack, then you is hatin'

And what the fuck do my contacts have to do with Satan?
I want a bitch with a bomb ass and some lubrication
A loverboy, you see I'm that but I'm rude and blatant
Now you listen here: I started a movement this year
I will fuck you up if you interfere
You been a queer your whole fuckin' life and I'll kick you into gear
You tryna prove you a lunatic? Ooh, I'm oozing in fear!
You on some sloppy-clown bitch shit: I'll rip your head off

Poke a stick through it, then beat the rest of your body down with it
I start violence, cops come with the loud sirens
Now I have to hop a barbed-wire fence
They find me in the broke down car I had been hidin' in
Homicide is now the charge I'm against
Walk up to the jail cell with the guard I am with
He pushes me in and then the bar slides in
This new age of rappers, all they wanna do is floss, why?
Swearing they're the boss guy, thinking that they're all fly
You, Lil' Wayne, Soulja Boy, this Asher Roth guy
Normally I wouldn't mind, but this time, I've lost mine!

Who the hell is he? The biggest hater that you'll ever meet
White contacts, so you motherfuckers remember me
Lyrics put together so cleverly, you will never be
On my level, I chop all of you rappers to celery
Fake thugs rap like: "I'll let the Glock spit at you
Just got out the pen cause I move how real niggas move"
No, don't lie, cause it hurts when you hear the truth!
You got out the pen and wrote a verse with it, didn't you?
Fuck life, you can't tell me nothin'
I'll shove a knife in your back and leave it
poking out through your belly-button
Sir, your daughter wasn't that reluctant
You see this 8-inch dick bulgin' out of my pants?
Well, she sucked it

I went to Wal-Mart with a Visa card, bought your wife a leotard
And made her try it on to get my penis hard
I'm pissed enough, I can never find a bitch to fuck
I beat my dick a lot, that's why only my right wrist is buff
I go dumb off of two packs of Now Or Laters
Then fight niggas like I was the black Power Ranger
Head to the lake then wrestle a couple alligators
Then run through the woods butt-naked; so what, pal? It's nature
Why the fuck would I collab wichu?
Yeah you're good friends with Marcus but
Hopsin don't wanna rap wichu!
You're full of shit like some ass-tissue
And you're a bitch when you go to studios
you bring your dad with you
No! Unacceptable, now watch me wreck the flow
Niggas be hatin' cause I'm ballin just like my testicles
Word is bond, the way I'm on this mic and servin bombs
I might as well have an Osama bin Laden turban on

Compositor: Marcus Hopson (Hopsin)

Letra enviada por Vinícius de Oliveira

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