2001

2001, the year of the son
Prodigy been born, with the mouth of a clip and a gun

Since age 1, I've slayed some
I dare you to say sum'
It'll end with an H-bomb

Seven days in a week
All these checks spent for me
All these bitches been broke
All these bitches wantin' heat
I just came in back to town, that boy been startin' up some beef
Trying to ruin his career, that's some shit I wanna keep
Because if I speak or fire back, I fire back at what he needs
And no one needs another thief

All his other cards are on the table
My boys looking at his deck, and let's just say he should be grateful
I sit down to hear his tracks and that shit worse, and almost painful
I'm not meaning bitter-sweet
His sound almost fuckin' fatal

Boy you 'tryna come and fuck with me
This hole that I be see you digging
Tell you now, it's getting deep
And no I ain't been naming names
I keep it basic, so you see
That ape will never hurt an ape unless the ape is shooting cheap
My name explains to all you bitches
that I'm coming for a king
I'll go and roamin' for your ass
And speak the language of the Greeks

But I digress,
Foolish for me to think they been makin' a dent
Foolish for me to think they can pay up they rent
Foolish for me to think they been knowing who's next
Fuck it, who's next

They've been running packs
I'm running rap
I'll keep it 'civ
They on they back
They needing air
They smoking gas
It's in my genes
It's in my bag
It's in my blood
It's in my gat
Don't need no bullets
Don't need rats
I need some wrap to cover racks, I mean like

Imagine how I just arrived
Now imagine if I thought about takin' a life
with somebody's baby-momma just screaming and crying
That some shit to go get lawyers and probably sign, ugh look

It is what it is
But you should play with ya kids
Before you run out of time
And 'fore they see a ghost

And I ain't talking bout killing
But I've been open to listings
I'm talking washed up rapper with suicide notes