[Verse]
I'm the original, one that n*ggas be biting
But fools wanna meet it, exactly what they did it
I been wrecking sh*t before thousand BC
Back in the days, n*gga on your TV
Back when my n*gga King Tee was the coolest
When 1580 still had the Mack Attack
It was just a handful busting on the west
Now it's like the pinky, now the sh*t's stinky
The Great Elephant is what they call me around the way
Cause I be stomping mothaf*ckers all day, uh
King of the jungle, listen to my roar
I be wrecking sh*t, keeping hoochies on the floor
They be getting hot, but I don't give a damn
I be caressing the mic when I hit jams
Making it moan and groan 'til I'm through
Cause I'm gonna make it real funky for you
Uhh, the walking black gaint, with the Desert Eagle
But how many n*ggas can I fit in my regal?
n*ggas can't lift me in my place I live
Because of all the funky ass sh*t that I give
I got hypocrite n*ggas balls hanging in the back
Now go and take your pick and make it kind of quick
Cause I'm on a mission and they know I'm coming
Every time they hear I'm coming is when fools they start running
Fifty thousand troops looking like the Middle East
The sh*t I have to do, just to get a little peace
Cause busters, they wanna be chilling
With that n*gga that be calling the villain
Can you blame 'em?
As I direct my boogie ain't watered down
My boogie be thumping, hitting fools way across town
Planners be digible, n*ggas stay cool
Coming up with phat sh*t sitting on a raw stool
As I think to myself that I never talked back
As I walk to the shack
Everyday that I'm living n*ggas be tripping
Cause all the funky sh*t that I be giving
It's like, yeah I'm still here, still in the game
I'm making that funky sh*t cause ain't nothing changed
n*ggas they wanna know what's up, I'm still chilling
Yeah, I'm still the villain, yeah, I make the killing
I carry my big stick, walk down the block
Roll through Compton with my n*gga Rocc
It's Ren the Mad Scientist busting tight-ass raps (Why?)
'Cause the n*gga's gotta make snaps
There's too many clowns up on the juke box
Too many itty-bitties occupying the Rap City
So I'mma call Don Corleone with bad news
And make n*ggas an offer that they can't refuse
So hold your breath whenever I bust a verse
And hold on tight because it gets much worse
I set booby traps where ever that I kick it
But you can't come and kick it cause n*ggas might stick it
Ain't no watered down n*ggas on these streets
And ain't no watered down rhymes with these beats
A mad scientist straight outta CPT
That don't give a f*ck if you can't MC