I'm beginning to feel like a Rap God, Rap God
All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod
Now who thinks their arms are long enough to slapbox, slapbox
They said I rap like a robot, so call me rapbot
But for me to rap like a computer must be in my genes
I got a laptop in my back pocket
My pen'll go off when I half-cock it
Got a fat knot from that rap profit
Made a living and a killing off it
Ever since Bill Clinton was still in office
With Monica Lewinsky feeling on his nut-sack
I'm an MC still as honest
But as rude and as indecent as all hell
Syllables, skill-a-holic (Kill 'em all with)
This flippity dippity-hippity hip-hop
You don't really wanna get into a pissing match
With this rappity-rap, packing a Mac in the back of the Ac
Backpack rap crap, yap-yap, yackety-yack
And at the exact same time
I attempt these lyrical acrobat stunts while I'm practicing that
I'll still be able to break a mothafuckin' table
Over the back of a couple of faggots and crack it in half
Only realized it was ironic I was signed to Aftermath after the fact
How could I not blow? All I do is drop F-bombs, feel my wrath of attack
Rappers are having a rough time period, here's a maxi pad
It's actually disastrously bad for the wack
While I'm masterfully constructing this master piece (Yeah)