Who You Bullshittin'

[Prodigy]

Yeah

Let me tell you somethin'

Only niggas that can rap like this

Is H-A-V-O-C and the come back kid

Wha

Stop you could never sound like this

You not unique like P

Look how I freak this shit

You the greatest of the hard core ones

The best ever

I'm utterly grimey

Who does it better? Listen

These other rappers all rapping trickey

Toying with me boy I get silly

Like big bags of dust and cocaine blunts

White e & j and sprite you mix it up

This quality hood shit

Yeah all punk and garbage

And people buying that bullshit

Oh my God it's a helluva drought

Of fine time to rhyme

Pull your hardrives out and dig through the archive

Maybe you can find an old dusty hot one

Cuz that new shit you got is not wassup

[Chrous]

Who you bullshittin?

You ain't top five

Who you tryin' to goose up?

You ain't hot slime

You just a cold pussy

You just a coulda, shoulda, woulda ass nigga

You ain't never be alive nigga

[Chorus X2]

[Havoc]

I'm as alive as they come with the eletrical tape

Couldn't stop this fire when the wire break

I annihiliate, violate somethin' phishies

Nutricious, eat food have my goons doing dishes ?

Am I too specific?

I beg to differ

Hand on the bible swear to be a better nigga

Whateva

The first one got a nigga hypcriting

First sign of border less spittin ?

Who you gettin'

Ya whole team pussy

A whole bunch of dead kittens

Heads missing

Ya know it's serious when the feds phishing

They not gonna find nothin' in the shark tank

Nothin but algae and live bait

Clareece couldn't figure out my mind state

You wanted me death sent on a blind date

The unforgettable look that eyes make

I see it in my dreams and when I awake

[Chrous X2]

[Prodigy]

Yeah that's how my shit spray

When I'm spittin' these bars get the fuck out da way

Or you gonna be a target to my 16 slabs

I don't do battles

I engage combat

Within the streets not in da street

Put the coins on your eyes

Before the defeat

Since you first heard of us

You wanted to be just like me

Hands on your neck tatted just like P

Long chain swinging

Dingaling ringing mad bells in the salon I got dem singing

My praise is the craze

It's dem Queensbridge dogs

Nobody make music like dis anymore

It's just a bunch of reckless raps that makes no sense

A hunnid bodies on your song

Yeah real intelligent

You's a writer of fiction

Straight novelist

So many keys you woulda thought you was a locksmith

[Chorus X2]