f*ck Rappers lyrics

[Verse 1: Planet Asia]
f*ck rappers, ban 'em like flavored Dutch Masters
Your cuts after I listen to 'em with much laughter
Champagne slush my campaign Krush
Grooving, powder Peruvian, black Nubian manoeuver
I'm like Max Julien to Cougars, with more racks than Hooters
Wasn't for rap I'd probably be head of the pack
Pass the straps to shooters
Pockets lacking Gouda, that's when n*ggas pack the Ruger
I caught a cool run, my crew runs sh*t, Hilltop Hustling logic
Rock your pillbox, I still got a couple of projects
n*ggas can't f*ck with my accomplishments
The Don is supreme sonic, Ebonic, speaking in phonics
Reminiscing on hand to hand, running from big knots
Now it's G&Gs all over my silk top
Amongst trappers, in the cuts we clutch clappers
Ain't another n*gga die for n*gga, f*ck rappers
[Verse 2: Willie The Kid]
f*ck rappers, n*ggas 'posed to been dead
Bled through the Band-Aid, I'm Pinhead
Hell raising, I lay blades Clive Barker and Wes Craven
My neck's craving, I savor the flavor
It's savoir faire save my fear for the saviour
For all the rest of y'all I got a bomb, Jaeger
Especially you rappers, f*ck all of y'all
Fast forward then backwards, sick chiropractor
I'm hot like the sand out in Cairo, a pyro
Maniac, a klepto, braniac I'm zany
Pop it like a Xanie, declare war, Cheney
My ho is like Claire Huxtable, hard lustable
All these rap n*ggas gassed up, combustible
Feminine internet n*ggas, f*cking weirdos
Me and Planet Asia like Albert Anastasia
But we Asiatic, original fabric
Never fabricated, ain't got it, never had it
Used to play ball now you want to be a rapper
[Verse 3: Fashawn]
You know what, f*ck rappers
We puff puff past 'em, turn n*ggas to blunt ashes
Consider me retro and vintage
I'm blowing dro out in Venice
A role model and my role is simple
That's captivate your soul and control your mental
Teach you how to hold a pistol
Go to Nobu and order the whole menu
Glow like I wrote it with a solid gold pencil
G sh*t, cause thorough is how I keep it
n*ggas know, every block every borough, it ain't a secret
Flow rare like the first hair on a Mona Lisa
Check your intellect cause you're in front of a teacher
I roll the kind of reefer that'll give you amnesia
Don't believe it well roll up a gram and have a damn seizure