Atlanta on Fire

[Hook: Stat Quo] I'm the next one next one Motherfuckers can't fuck with me with me Got a problem shorty come get me Nah, I ain't Dr. Dre, nah, I ain't Eminem or 50, dog I’m Stat [Verse 1: Stat Quo] As I think back, retract, from the classroom to the trap Freida's only son had to hustle for scraps It's hard to relax when your wage minimum, bein' broke Fuck, with my adrenaline before Dre and Eminem I was trying to get on demo tapes state to state Performing at clubs and doing whatever it takes Relying on faith hopin' my dreams take shape And my fate meeting (?) I would wait for these A&R’s say I ain’t grind bitch Spendin' my last dime on this studio time shit A lot of folk told me I was stupid for trying this Situation crucial feds off in my climate Home environment taking pictures of me it was ugly The spot got hot, scene felt like curry Had my vision blurry to underground Atlanta Hit the streets me and Zeke put a plan together Shorty it's now or never down to do whatever You see the rainfall came but I had to bear that weather Look your boy need cheddar like a mill or better I was fed up but the benefit was worth the effort [Bridge: Stat Quo] I'm patiently waitin', used to get love Now the same niggas hatin', wanna give me slugs Partner don't get it separated or twisted, you can't fade it Stat's the wrong motherfucker to play with, understand me [Bridge: Eminem] If you opened up your ears long enough to listen You may hear what you've been missin' out all of this time I've been put in a position to put all this in position So quit your bitchin', learn how to rhyme Get signed and get your shine [Verse 2: Eminem] It's like this and like that and, uh, welcome to Statlanta Shady Aftermath and, uh, a brand new rapper from Atlanta Who goes by the name of Stat Quo Introducing our new excuse to keep producin' Continue to do music, use it and expand it and make rap grow The hottest new shit on the planet, on a new plateau But don't confuse it, you don't understand it Let me break it down for you to show you how we do shit So that you cats know, this is Statlanta 101 Cause we don't want no one walking out this motherfucker with tunnel vision So anyone with questions you want answered Just ask and we'll try to unmask them and maybe explain why so few cats blow Just spit the truth when you get in this booth and do that though That there boy hot to death, you already knew that though Is he the greatest from the ATL, we got haters all day to debate us So we'll just say this: he's one of them not to tackle [Bridge: Stat Quo] I got caviar wishes, box Chevy dreams CD covers, TV screens The booth or the block, might go to triple beam I'mma make it right, hear me, huh huh huh Fuck what your saying, God put me here to shine Going on tour or white collar crime The rhyme or the grind, MPC or the nine I'mma make it, I need mine, huh huh huh [Verse 3: Stat Quo] I can care less, fuck yall, you don't make or break me Real niggas love me, pussy niggas hate me Down bitches ride for Stat Quo, they know The A-Town D Young County be trill folk Didn't no other label offer me no deal Till they found out Shady/Aftermath was interested Then they started to beg, want the truth, there it is This ain't a gimmick, this the south and I be that kid Just ride through watching lines of his rhymes In time you're going to find you're on a great trip Ain't a word I could life be some extraordinary shit The piece of the puzzle that fit, it's Stat Quo, you son of a bitch [Refrain]