Radio Killed the Hip Hop Star - Best Out of Jersey

Don't get hyped by these views that you getting on the YouTube
You ain't new school, I was bumping D12 these rappers never knew Proof
All they care's about a new coupe and spitting flows while they too cool
Rest in peace to Prodigy, he was gone too soon
All these rappers wack and there ain't no getting used to
All I'm seeing's red, tell these rappers get a blue's clue
And that ain't gang affiliated, that's just how I'm feeling lately
When I rap and kill these vagrants
Then I stop and feel these statements
That these lousy little stations play like volume irritations
Sounds like Valium when they made it
Don't know how you ever made it
You making whack shit while the lyricists suffer
We used to have the beef, they endearing each other
Never fearing each other
All these rappers sound sweet man, they feeling each other
All they do is auto-tune and then they deal with the numbers
I get the feels and I mutter while I kneel and I stutter
Cause I'm tryna get my therapy and feel with another
Man, the mic's my therapist, sometimes I feel him hitting back at me
Like why you spitting so hard? Like, are you mad at me
Nah, I'm coping with a tragedy, tryna find the hand that feeds
But I'm just a man that bleeds
Now I'm tryna make it through all these things I had to see
So others can relate and hit me up like yo you're dad to me
Nah you're God to me
Speaking god, this is god's music, take your head and nod to it
Peel apart the layers and I bet you you see god through it
I'm tryna make it now so I don't stress when I'm 30
And since Budden retired, I'm just the best out of Jersey
Unless..unless you got something to say about that..Genesis
Haha
Get'em
Okay
Hopped over the fence barely made it out the gate
They wanna snatch my soul acting like they never ate
I'm too hot to be served, I would burn right through the plate
We could never match up, you and I don't relate
Real quick to let'em know I'm godlike with the flow
So stop with all the shits
You pop without the hits
I'm chomping at the bit
No topping what I spit
See you hopping out the whip
Going shopping with your bitch
While I'm mobbing with my click
You coming out the store with more clothes that don't fit
You so called rappers just some hoe ass actors
Lookin' for attention like them hoes y'all after
It's sickening
Listening
To the trash you're littering
Illiterate
Eating zannys like candies, jabbering and gibbering
Swearing that you got it, you just sounding like the next
Auto-tuning your emotions, only hell I know is X
And I'm greedy with the bars so bring the whole crew
It's just a bigger piece of cake for me to chew a hole through
You couldn't take me out if you called up for delivery
Quick to bag your bitch, leave her slope real slippery
No Way Out, learn your history, this a Victory
Hit'em up like Pac just know they'll never Biggie me
Set'em off with shots they could never touch lyrically
Pen game weak so they're inking up their face
You the donkey of the week for thinking that this is your place
Jersey's where you'll find me
Got the homie right beside me
Take you rap cats lightly
So you better aim wisely
Cause if you coming for us, at least you'd say you tried
But if you down to ride then you gotta pick a side motherfuckers

Written by:
Tanysha Soulia, William Leahy

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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