The Pain - Jon Connor

I tell a bitch nigga «get some»

Yeah, nigga, get some

When I hit the room, here the fake ass and tits come

They say that hip-hop dead?

Well, I guess they must’ve missed one

Drop a double album of that real nigga shit

This is disc one

Got your city locked up, like my niggas locked up

How you sleepin' on me when this shit is wakin' Pac up?

Fat lady singin', this the opera

Did it my way like Sinatra

Shotta… yeah, this nigga got one

You a son of a bitch, like I saw your pops run

In Flint all we hear is bang, bang, like when pops—

Fuck that, rap niggas claim gangs when they not one

In Flint, we hear shots, don’t no cops come

Y’all say that y’all are paid?

But y’all money young, nigga, jailbait

With these bars, I’m not the one you want, that’s a cellmate

Have you motherfuckers with that I-ain't-make-bail face

Servin' up this hot shit

Devil’s pot, hell cakes

Holy grail, holy shit, I’m smilin' like holy Mase

Strip club miracles, we made it rain for 40 days

And 40 nights, I kill shit, nigga don’t waste your only life

It’s only right, you really a bitch when you ain’t on the mic

I know the type

Is it real, son?

Is it really real, son?

Let me know it’s real, son, if it’s really real

Somethin' I can feel, son, load it up and kill one

Want a ordeal, son?

If it’s really real

Look;

go 'head and step in the fire

A moth to a lighter, the truth

Look how I talk to these liars

My hood, they’re closin' down the Krogers and Meijers

You think you fresh, but your flow done expired

My flow done inspired

Riots, Bill, now let me give you the science

Let me explain where I came from, the cloth I’m made from

I don’t wanna aim at you lames, I throw grenades up

I done been through hell in a cell, I been caged up

Yeah nigga, word to Johnny Blaze, I’m amazin'

When I was a little stereo

I listen to some Champion

I always wondered

When I would be the number one (right now, nigga)

Now ya listenin' to the Flint boy

Yes, who else could it be?

Any pussy come test me

Me am gon lick out dem brains

Look;

y’all done fucked the game up

Co-signin' shit y’all know that y’all should be ashamed of

But thank y’all for not cloggin' my lane up

Watch me

That’s all you can do 'cause none of you niggas can stop me

You lookin' like Apollo Creed until he met Rocky

Get it understood that my niggas got it locked

Key to success, fuck a greatest rapper conversation if it’s not me

I’m the coldest, that’s a easy answer

How is that for sittin' in the hot seat?

Better than your top three, fuck it, I’m my biggest fan

I’m from Flint, yeah, better known as KillaNiggaLand

Money too short to be the bigger man

Connor tried to feed you and you bit his hand

So I’m on my «fuck these niggas» shit again

Take that

Naw, it ain’t no take-backs, y’all almost made me hate rap

They be feedin' y’all bullshit and y’all ate that

I blame the engineer, 'cause when y’all was listenin to the playback

Y’all could’ve stopped these niggas, like

«What the fuck made y’all make that?»

I just wanted to get to two minutes for y’all

Uh, salute to Meth

Wu-Tang!