[Verse 1]
Just shy of a child when I signed I wasn't s'posed to know (Tony Seltzer)
What I know now what I won't let go
When I was as close to selling my soul
Call it what you call it, but me I saw it up close
Shit, you ain't independent 'less you on your own
And now, I ain't into selling shit that I don't own
And you can go to hell with it if you don't think I know
I'm worth more than twenty bones, plenty mo'
It'll be in my memory when I get this dough
What I have to let a legend let 'em know?
That's not enough for 'em, I have to settle for a more devilish approach
Take on eventual tone
[?], it could be mental or more detestable, undigestible
Gets archaic, invite the block, let 'em have a show
They all payin', they all watch
Invest what I make back into the car wash
The laundromat, I guess you could call it that
Ain't done 'til we rid of all the bad apples in the [Apple graduate's undergrads?]
Mad ain't go to college, ask what I woulda done with that
Fuck that, I'ma get a PhD off of rap
Be conceited with it, flashed at educated cats
A doctor with a doctorate talkin' my shit to a college class
[Chorus]
Revenge is a dish best served cold
So, I wanna burn those turncoats
The irony of the words chose
Leave holes in 'em, not bulletholes, no
Torture 'em with Turkish gold
Those who deserted the cold
Who them over there? Yeah, woah
You shoulda heard the version they told
[Verse 2]
So how you gonna blame me for takin' it personal?
Turned to a sick fuck when I take what I'm owed
And I never forgot, thought you'd never get caught
Lackin', but actions speak louder than talk
Let's see what he got, he feel he the man
Damn, throw him off a building, let's see where he land
All the underhanded complements done wondering what's they plan
Or did I just misunderstand
So now, this latest disrespect is fuck you and your mans
And a big thank you to my ex for fuckin' my friends
For showin' me who was just showin' up like one of them
And it got me sick, but just dubbin' 'em
I'm done with 'em, but got some sticks
Of dynamite up my sleeve, comin' from my wrist
Into my hand, then into your crib
Tic-tic, boom, where he went
Into an abyss, when it come the vengeance, never miss
[Chorus]
Revenge is a dish best served cold
So, I wanna burn those turncoats
The irony of the words chose
Leave holes in 'em, not bulletholes, no
Torture 'em with Turkish gold
Those who deserted the cold
Who them over there? Yeah, woah
You shoulda heard the version they told
[Outro]
Wait a minute, I got it
We stab him with an icicle (So what?)
They'd never find the murder weapon, it melts
Where you going to get an icicle in the summertime?
