Bullsh*t Rappers & Metaphors lyrics

[Intro]
Whoaaa....yeah, it's your boy Jumpoff Beezy a.k.a. Regular Joe a.k.a. That Dude
Shout out to all the mixtape DJs and sh*t
Stack, what up n*gga
Webb, turn my vocals up a little bit
See, what we gonna do is we gonna rhyme like the other n*ggas and sh*t
With the bullsh*t rhymes, putting a whole bunch of words together just because
And n*ggas is really listening to that sh*t like, "Yo, he's hot"......NOT
I think n*ggas might have forgot what the word "hot" is
f*cking with all these metaphor n*ggas with the bullsh*t like
"I'm flat like plasma"
"I smoke like forest fires" and all this dumb sh*t
"I'm cool like AC's"
"I bang like bangers"...ha...some dumb sh*t
SO.....we gonna have to teach n*ggas how to rap again
n*ggas might have forgot -- go ahead and help them out
We recording?...... ARE WE RECORDING???
All right -- just making sure, man

Its, its, its that on top music!!!

[Verse 1]
Ok, moving on now -- we done with the no names
Now put the purple in the air like soul plane
Point blank when hammers is out
I'll have it right up on your skin -- it's like the plastic on your grandma couch
In the hood somebody's telling, cops cuff and arresting
So its somebody else besides Usher confessing
Spray y'all clip team
Y'all broke but the day y'all get cream is the day y'all meet the AR-15
Jason Bourne n*ggas sent right after a guy
The dudes that say word to they seed right after they lie
So when I spot 'em or see 'em
I'ma play the graveyard realtor in charge of every mausoleum
Buying 900 gallons of dip
In the crib the living room wall is 900 gallons of fish
The block is f*cked up, my son's feeling is helpless
I see why everybody in slum village is selfish..n*gga
[Interlude]
Yeah, man
(Oh, oh) Shout-out to Fab, Stacks, A-Team [?]
Er'body on top of they pen game (JERZ!)
And I wanna send a big shout-out to all the mixtape DJs out there
That been holding it down so many years
Yeah, and shout-out to the haters too
Hi, haters! It's
It's (It's what?), it's that On Top Music!

[Verse 2]
Hard to imagine the game without me
Even mixtapes just ain't been the same without me
And anytime beef is on or the heat is on
I'm on some Nelly sh*t in New Jerz, getting my Eagle on
n*ggas wanna rep, better watch your back
Even little n*ggas is jumping now they Robert Pack
And there's great artists out the struggling to get a joint across
While wack n*ggas need nine minutes to get a point across,
When will you cowards learn, though?
I only f*ck chicks looking like they off the Howard Stern Show
I love when black youths do they numbers and all
Make hits to make them little kids run to the store
But its like rappers ain't got no hunger at all
And n*ggas' albums don't leave you with a hunger for more
Say Joe, leave it alone -- accept it, they lost
But I'm a addict -- got a problem with beating a dead horse, n*gga
[Outro]
Simple, man...see...two way ya boy next time you drop, man
No more mixtapes hit the street without the kid on them
Thats how we gonna do, y'all must've forgot like Roy Jones
That's one of then wack metaphors n*ggas be using, too
Yo, I'm hot like the sun
I am cooler than the other......oh yeah, n*gga said that
YOU AIN'T COOLER THAN THE OTHER SIDE OF THE PILLOW, n*ggA