Cut from a Different Cloth

[Intro: Ab-Soul]

Look at me, King!

Look at me, King!

Soul

Kaylin on the couch sleepin'

She wake up, she gonna be like damnnnn

[Verse 1: Ab-Soul]

Come and spar with a titan

If you ain't knew it's true I'm Zeus and I marvel at lightning

What a marvelous sight, know the thought is enticin'

Flow stupid like 50 Tyson, don't trip with 50 Cent

I beat 'em all like Tyson, that's no coincidence

Ab-Soul, don't forget the hyphen, I might throw a fit

You think I lived in the Salvation Army but all it is

Is that we got a new 2Pacalypse Now

(When?) Before the apocalypse

Wow, how do you come up with this?

If you behind Ab, then maybe you can stomach this

Who could fuck with it?

I know you got a dick, but use your head, bruh

They sleepin' on me by a colony of bed bugs

Cut from a different cloth and no one knows my thread count

My mind is like a sword, you'd swore I'd have a hair cut

Soul and Budden, no discussion

Joe, you know it's nothin'

Wrote the score, and then I scored, metaphor, and 1

[Chorus: Ab-Soul]

I don't know about you, hey, I don't know about them

I just do what I do, they just do what they can

They be hatin' on the man, with a knife in their hand

Cut from a different cloth, cut from a different cloth

All these niggas on my dick, all these bitches on my balls

Cut from a different cloth, cut from a different cloth

Middle fingers to the fakers, middle fingers to 'em all

[Verse 2: Joe Budden]

Y'all can hold the applause

I just did what these other niggas was scared to do

Tell me life is hard, I'll ask: "What the fuck do you compare it to?"

Quarter on the loose, I'm blessed enough that I can spare a few

Told me I'd be dead, the fact I'm breathin' is a miracle

Y'all got Gollum, listenin' to all these dudes that y'all call lyrical

Excludin' under conclusion that you young and you dumb

If that's how they appear to you

I'd be lyin' if I said your words ain't bother me

Be lyin' if I ain't think it was trickery or reverse psychology

I came in on Rakim, watched y'all take the bar, y'all lowered it

Won't stay in line like a battered wife

Ain't too many spots y'all can go with it

How long y'all gonna febreeze manure

And think the fans won't notice it?

Nah, I ain't get angrier, but the chip on my shoulder did

Not to gloat, if I ain't one of the GOATs

Y'all probably missed my track record

Either that or y'all just ain't been keepin' track of records

I've just been waitin' till that sentiment passed

Y'all ain't even gotta be drunk to feel this genuine draft

I'm lettin' Benjamins stack

Shouldn't be hard to tell if the boy is potent

I'm the only time you'll see a madman be void of emotion

'Cause they fear me in any cypher the hear me in

Only rappin' with Soul for the outer body experience

So hats off, y'all fit for this, but y'all the type we laugh at

I'm way ahead, and when I aim for yours

Somethin' tells me he won't snap back

All I ever been was a outcast

This time in the moment I moved past that

But the burner name is Jackson and your alias is Baghdad

BLAT! It's not a game, try to execute

2K'D my old bitch, know I keep a ex to shoot

If anyone tried to do the math they'd probably be mad as fuck

Said I'd never amount to shit, now they tryin' to add it up

[Chorus: Ab-Soul]

I don't know about you, hey, I don't know about them

I just do what I do, they just do what they can

They be hatin' on the man, with a knife in their hand

Cut from a different cloth, cut from a different cloth

All these niggas on my dick, all these bitches on my balls

Cut from a different cloth, cut from a different cloth

Middle fingers to the fakers, middle fingers to 'em all