Tom: D minor
Verse 1
Am
Bust it, as I kick acapella
And I'm making money just like a
Rockefeller
I'm not worried if you
steal my metaphors
Cause I got more metaphors
than a bookstore
Suckers never beat me,
but they keep trying
They're just pussycats, I'm a lion
I can say rhymes from
Newark to
Atlanta
Word, I got more juice than
Tropicana
I'm not short, sport, step off
Like stones, I'm hard,
like cotton, you're soft
That's why you down,
I'm up here, yeah
Mean, strong, cool,
and cute like a teddy bear
All serious, rhymes, no joke
Hit you like a drink, lift you like a sniff of
Coke
And giving you more, my metaphor
Cut suckers like a chainsaw
In a battle, you best come equipped
Cause I burn you like fire,
sink you like a ship
More deadly than the charcoal jaws
Yo, get up on it, it's my metaphor
Ah yeah, won't you pick
up on my metaphor
Yo, yo, won't you pick up
on my metaphor
Come on, you gotta get off to this beat
While
Hollywood made it hard like concrete
We pumped it up and blasted
your speakers
Sometimes I get a little
upset with the media
They talk about the way I act and how I live
But just like
Bobby
Brown, that's my prerogative
So stop sweatin' me, I might pull out an
Uzi
And shoot like I'm fightin' in a
James
Bond
The ladies love me, intelligent black man
Out on the town, I swing like
Tarzan
Town to town, club to club
Just like
Jodi
Wiley when she's looking for
a new love
Talk on the mic like the
World
Trade
Center
And being dope on the mic was a crime,
I'd be a sinner
Ripping up the mic after the program
You wanna battle, you get slammed
Damn, they say that boy don't play
Like
Calgon,
I'ma take you away
To a state of mind you never seen before
Yo, and I can do it with my metaphors
Speak
MCs, talk about your metaphor
Kill it, cause
Slick made it better for the record
So just listen and just get off me
My rap keeps your book like coffee
They say my rap is like popping a pill
Cause you suckers just put
on the sleep light night grill
Cause you're boring,
the opposite of strong
And your rhyme sounds
softer than a slow song
By
Freddie
Jackson or
Luther
Vandross
You couldn't keep up with
Diana
Ross
So sly, yeah, my throat is sore
Yo, what's up?
Why don't you pick up on the metaphor?
It's no problem,
just pass the mic and I'll recite
And I can talk more shit than
Walter
Cronkite
Or
Bob
Walters, you think I'm insane
Cause I can sing verses
longer than a pack train
Or a transit, or longer than an
Amtrak
My rhymes are just like beer,
you want a six -pack
Cleanse your ear like a bar of zest
Lip your spirits like a bag of zest
MCs say they beat me, but that ain't so
The knuckleheads lie more than
Pinocchio
You silly rappers, I only ignore
You suckers just jealous,
cause you can't beat my metaphors
Word, twin, that was dope
Yo, let the beat roll, man,
Ebm
Am
let's get laid before show you
yeah
You
Am
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