Yo, this is Prime
But to tell you cats who the hell I am
So listen up
I know you cats been asking, 'bout to answer that
[Verse 1]
Yo, yo
Who's that kid that's rocking head phones
in the back of the bus?
Reciting verses loud as fuck, while still taggin' shit up?
Who's laughing it up, sand paper scratching shit up?
Who's making passengers blush when he babbles and busts?
It's Prime.
These cats that rhyme don't even know what it's like
They got me vexed,
wanting to test 'em when they holding the mic
That's why I'm yelling, talking shit & acting so impolite
Battling me, you're either throwin' the towel
or thrown in the fight
I jump off the top of the rope, so stop your approach
Rappers keep trying to be different
instead of trying to be dope
Harder than most, choking artists who croak, serving mimics
Setting fire to your notebook while you're still writing your verses in it
My words indented, plus they're properly placed
All in your face, gems priceless, keep them locked in a safe
Plotting to take the world over with rhyme,
controlling your mind
So sit back and behold its P-Prime!
[Hook x2]
I'm unbreakable, you can't make me or break me
And I don't give a fuck,
none of you bitch niggas can take me
So when I hear you cats rap I have to resort
To telling kids how it is with a status report
[Verse 2]
Nowadays commercial cats are all talk in the game
All wearing similar outfits and all walking the same
You just acting for your boys & you should all be ashamed
When on the low & all alone you're looking awkward and plain
Ya'll ain't superstars...
Fuck with me and you'll get bruised & scarred
Even your beats don't match
You're just as wack as your producers are
Frontin' yourself like you got a gun on the shelf
Running with wealth, praying you wake up as somebody else
Little fish in a big pond, I'm serving all of you toys
You couldn't get five mics onstage with four of your boys
You're wack as a rule, I rap and dismantle your crew
And leaving you guessing what's getting dropped first;
Your album or you
You've had it, you're through
get crushed by my weakest touch
I spit shit that speaks in volumes,
my whispers'll make the speakers bust
Trust that Prime is chosen with the mic I'm holding
Here's a toast for you going platinum & silence is golden
[Hook x2]
[Verse 3]
Nowadays it's just as bad if you're an underground cat
The fans in this are mad at it
Cause all that's coming out's wack
An analyst I have to dis
cause half these kids just can't rap
They put on backpacks and label their wack shit as abstract
The other half they carry on about the revolution
I guess doing tours and being vegetarian is their solution
It's retribution when I get in the zone
Shit I spit gets in your dome
like rays from cellular phones
Radiation I lay waiting to strike, so stay hating
As I leave these rappers shook
like getting coughed on by an AIDS patient
I make statements that will fuck with your head
Til you're frustrated & shaking
while you're tucked in your bed
Pumping the led pencil as I dis MCs
Sticks and stones can't break my bones
So your words don't mean shit to me
I'm vicious with the live flow, I spit wherever I go
So keep your eyes open for this nigga from Chicago
[Hook x2]
Ya, know what I'm saying
Memo on the beat
Molemen
Scam Artists
Keep an eye out
What!