They’re not takin’ me seriously!
[Verse 1: MC Zappa]
You know I gotta kill the beat like a video game boss
All the other suckas who rhymin’ so shitty and lame lost
They were about to drown, but I blew ‘em out the water
Wouldn’t be suin’ ‘em for a quarter, ‘cuz I’m doin’ it just to slaughter
Like Nintendo’s old slogan, I keep playin’ wit’ power
Every year, every month, every day; every hour
No chill; relaxin’ tough; I jazz, razzmatazz it up
Now tell me if yo’ black ass done had enough
Or should I continue to funk you up like The Sequence?
Can you take it, or will it make you combust or fly to pieces?
I last longer than an elephant’s memory
And I’m guaranteed to deliver one helluva symphony
I was fed Hip-Hop in my curriculum
So all these mumblin’ muthafuckas, I’m sick of ‘em
They couldn’t write a rhyme with a thousand dictionaries
They need Ocarina Time fountain wishin’ fairies
Like Sly and the Family Stone, they sing a simple song
And i can’t seem to remember where it went wrong
Was it about around the time of the platinum chains?
That some disease attacked the rappers’ brains?
I’m tryna keep calm and express views intelligently
But that means nothin’ in today’s world, evidently
So I mighta oughta yell; I mighta oughta bell
But whatever the case, out, I will never sell
Not tryna be political; I’m tryna keep it critical
Yell it out from the U.S. to China, Sweden, and Brazil
Behold; Hip-Hop grew back and regenerated
In the form of the style that MC Zappa has innovated
I do it for the love of the game, not for the money or fame
So I refuse to let these imbeciles sully the name
And if yo’ ass ever doubt for a second
I’ll let you know what it’s all about, for the record
[Hook]
Specializin’ in the rhymin’ for the record, of course!
Specializin’ in the rhymin’ for the record, of course!
For the record, let it be known…
[Verse 2: MC Zappa]
Real Hip-Hop; I know it like the back of my hand
That’s why I can’t stand ya, ‘cuz ya wack and ya bland
You claim to be Hip-Hop, but you unaffiliated
I’m really jaded, ‘cuz the shit is kinda silly, ain’t it?
All of your rhymes are stolen and pickpocketed
You start to fear when I’m throwin’ some Bit-Hop in it
Mumble rap is the dumbest shit that I ever seen
Unsustainable, ‘cuz you’re winter; I’m evergreen
Yo, y’all a couple nickels short of a dime
And I’m sick of ya horrible, deplorable rhyme
You’re jokers; I’m Batman; I’m dope, but you rap bland
Yo, you all need to go home ‘cuz you wack, far
I’m rugged and tough, but you’re delicate as a daffodil
When I’m rappin’ ill, you’re beggin’ MC Zappa “chill”
So don’t try to play the tough and aggressive
You’re a kitten tryna roar; I had enough of the fessin’
I’m charrin’, killin’, and breakin’ the artificial and fakin’
And if you disagree with that, go far and swim in a lake and
Don’t come back ’till you’re as sharp as a thumbtack
If you try to return, then the fire will burn
Get the fuck outta here with that Kidz Bop bullshit
The only thing we doin’ here is Hip-Hop, no shit
I’m cuttin’ the switch; it’s a ruthless termination
Like a magazine, I’ll put ya outta circulation
Even though you’re nothin but pawns in the conspiracy
I’ll still destroy with this song; I wrote it lyrically
You’ll never begin to be more than a facsimile
Like a weak dragon, you’re incapable of spittin’ heat
Like Public Enemy, they wack, so I shut ‘em down
Word; we need to go back to the underground
And if yo’ ass ever doubt for a second
I’ll let you know what it’s all about for the record
[Hook]
Specializin’ in the rhymin’ for the record, of course!
Specializin’ in the rhymin’ for the record, of course!
For the record, let it be known…
[Verse 3: MC Zappa]
If my rhyme was a drug, it might be a medicinal grade
Enemies, I smite thee wit’ a lyrical blade
So the rhyme won’t cease until I turn the microphone off
And like Biz Markie, I’m ‘bout to go off
Yo, because to wack rhymes, I am allergic
I broke out in freestyle every time that I heard it
No disrespect to suck MCs, and no offense
But mumble rap and Hip-Hop cannot coexist
Vocals are paint, and the beat is my canvas
None of you mumblin’ muthafuckas could understand this
Yo, I put my own spin on a classic
My rhymes are steel, but your lyrics are plastic
Rappers be not writin’ and bitin’ it like a Raticate
That’s why the market is flooded with the wackest shit
Nothin’ but hot air and empty calories
And these rappers ain’t nothin’ but simps wit’ salaries
There’s more to Hip-Hop than repetitive hooks
And yo, I gotta say, it ain’t as def as it looks
Matter of fact, it ain’t worth diddly squat
But they all shiver in shock when I lyrically rock
I strike with the mic, and I’m attackin’ ‘em wit’ rhythm
If it was illegal to be wack, they’d be in prison
Word, cuz they committin’ a felony
But I’ll execute wit’ a riff and melody
My music is dangerous; looney, deranged and nuts
They try to knock me, but the fools, they ain’t fazin’ us
Spittin’ wack verbal diarrhea like ipecac
They shrink back, and I break ‘em to bric-a-brac
When you hear what I orchestrate, there won’t be any more debate
You’ll say “damn!” ‘cuz I’m bustin’ the watergate
And if yo ass ever doubt for a second
I’ll let you know what it’s all about, for the record
