Iron Mic - Add-2

I see this rap shit as easy, I got it down to a science

Rock 'em like Goliath my verses is killin' giants

This the book of Eli, they pay tons to see it

I raised the bar so high Dhalsim couldn’t reach it

Yo, the weak leave when they see it, I cc’d it

I’m too seasoned, I’m too odd, we ain’t even

What I’m writing niggas be bitin' like babies teething

Or biting like Eve when she eatin' apples in Eden

Yo, restore the madness sure 'nuff, now who the baddest?

You crossed the line, you gon' need more then your border passes

I ain’t never slacking, never happen

You see it in my face until I get more work done than La Toya Jackson

I admit it, I should be admitted into a psych ward

I’m committed, chlamydia sick as given from five whores

Now why he say five?

He looney listen to Luniz «I Got 5 On It» at 5 in the morning

I murder MCs, leave they mothers mourning

Their homies is twisted, liquor pour out for em

I bomb niggas with no warning

Me and 9th just play Jesse and Walter White

We stepping on toes, this shit is like Harlem Nights

My rhyme scheme is mean like a dope fiend lean

Nigga please, your sixteens are sweeter than pralines

I picked the perfect song for the fat lady to sing

Teri, Ace and Hakeem this ain’t the same dream

Something ain’t adding up when you hear the shit that they say y’all

How the hell you a boss, ain’t you got you a day job?

Shit I face mobs, I scar faces like Facemob

So fix your face you niggas looking like Tate Modern art

There’s no equal, on top like a church steeple

Momma’s angel was angry listening to the evils

Don’t stop the music like Yarbrough & Peoples

All eyes on me like 2Pac or a peephole, yo

I poke holes into each and all of your plans

Shadow box with Peter Pan, punchlines will never land

I -- kick it!

-- y’all don’t understand

Nigga I don’t write rhymes, I write some «Got damn!"s

Jamla back, back like we never left

9th gave me a shot I ain’t give the ball back yet

See I will break you apart without me breaking a sweat

Y’all all talk, and ain’t saying shit like the Muppets Chuck

There’s no skill for real to the rhymes they write

But y’all in love with the hype like a crackhead’s wife

See I can give you a clip if you niggas is sound bitin'

You wrote that in five minutes?

No shit, it sounds like it!

But poor me, I’m dope til I OD

These rappers you call the future can’t fuck with the old me

Shake will tell you the same, Chance’ll tell you the same

I was chillin with Common and Nas on the same day

And the year before at New York and The Roots on the same stage

So I don’t care if you sleep, I’ll just wake you up at your wake

Yo, this shit real I been this and I’m still ill

I spit some shit that make Michael J Fox sit still

See I’m not playing -- all bars, not drinking

Straight body -- not planking

I shot niggas and I’m not ratin'

Add-2 all day, everyday and I’m not changing

Nigga