Stupid, you know it's time to sit and think, before we hit the brink
Locked room, at a prize fight, before he hit the ring
Like when I tell these corporate leeches they can't get a thing
Or when I tell relentless rappers they had better sing
The position that anyone holds could be up to grabs
I'm waitin' up the ave to see if anyone folds
Since I was twenty-one years old and legal
I knew the difference between gimmicky gangsters and powerful people

I'm the reason, why the game is flipped
I'm the reason, why your aim is missed
I'm the reason why you're mad I only sprained my wrist
The reason my mind frame is trained in this
You like gunfire? Better acquire the taste
'Cause you walk around with full pounds by them waist
Deface property, they be laced properly
Rules are rules, fools are fools, I react logically
Ain't no way, so come, make my day
Like Tom Hanks I earn long bank and Cast you Away

"This mic in my hand, I'm rulin'"
"I repeat, this is not a question"

Oh you brag about the keys you flipped and who you done up
Nigga what up? (Put up or shut up)
Poppin' shit about the chicks and the whips you got
You think you hot? (Uh-uh, man you put up or shut up)
Always talkin' bout your dough and your wealth and fame
You's a lame (Get out of here, put up or shut up)
You got hot beats and kids that can spit mad fire?
You's a liar! (That's whack, put up or shut up)

"This mic in my hand, I'm rulin'"
"Aiyyo I've seen the toughest of tough guys"

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Royalty Network
Writer(s): Christopher E. Martin, Christopher Martin, Demeticus Gibbs, Jonathan Williams, Keith Elam, Michael Burton