Run This Town

Never did I think I wasn't that nigga
 Couple labels said they couldn't sign a fat nigga
 I went home got in the zone grabbed that pad, nigga
 Now they kickin' theyself in they ass, look they calves bigger
 Years later still ain't got a six pack, nigga
 My fat belly still jiggles when I laugh, nigga
 I coulda stayed on the block, I'm still a crack pitcher
 Y'all turned away and made back 'fore I act vigor
 Your wife complaining cause she want her ass bigger
 I'm living life, erry night I'm like Jack Tripper
 Y'all showed your ass when y'all was all in the mag' pictures
 Now you're in the backround ya little ad libber
 Now everybody won't be buddy buddy
 Cause I stay in the light like funny looking money
 Nigga I'm nice like your first grade teacher
 Hard not to floss when your bars got a cough
 Your songs got the HIV and there's SARS on your thoughts
 If me and you ever lyrically sparred then you lost
 You on Earth in a lemon I'm on Mars in a Porsche
 And it's a 9-11 like behind oh of course
 I ball like playing Rajon Rondo in horse
 My condo in New York is like an obstacle course
 My hallways longer than a far throw to Morse
 N.Y. what it do, I do this rhyme shit for you
 Walk around like what's the next beat that I'm gonna chew
 So that's what I decided to do through all the sweats
 And the kicks hit this track and now I run it too
 Sometimes I hear myself and I'm like damn
 That's what happens when I'm in front of a mic stand?
 My flow is almost as hard as my right hand
 You beating me up's like a Muslim saying he likes ham
 Seen niggas come and go overnight fam
 One hit careers, my career has a lifespan
 Ever wonder what a one hit wonder is
 First bat in the pros wasn't single, but he swung and missed
 And every fuckin' pitch they threw after that
 Can't make contact, the fans scream "This batter's whack!"
 When I'm up, they like "Yes, Big yaowa papi!"
 Cause for years I've been clutch like a Kawasaki
 Point out anything you heard from me that sounded sloppy
 Yeah that's right keep searching like you're out of Sake
 Any time I'm in that booth you get your ass whipped
 And I'mma keep on fighting like Brad Pitt
 Y'all ain't got the luxury to pick if you gon' fuck with me
 What I spits crazy like glue so your stuck with me
 So y'all can hate me or y'all can sing along
 Competitions dead like a bee when its stinger's gone
 YAOWA! YAOWA!