Big Beat

[Intro]

Yeah

Ayo Al, what up nigga?

It’s Rae, man, you know we told ‘em we gon’ do

[Verse 1]

Ayo, they claim the greatest of all time is me, straight legend

The range, the weapon [?] to run with your shine

Blow a hundred shots and bounce, light up

We in the night up from sunset to dawn, light it up

See the mutts’ first breakout, pardon my nuts, and grab it

Where your boss at, faggot?

Switching lanes, tidier chains, listening to the things you saying

With no money, motherfucker—not a dime

I rhyme regular, still, but wish some competitors come real

It’s all about intelligent lines (Be yourself, nigga)

Yeah, that cardboard tough talk is weak

It’s maybe ‘bout six thousand of y’all and maybe three I keep

Mold and shape like I’m growing a plant

I stand, this is raw weight, don’t get knocked

I got to say it, it’s no hating (Gotta say it)

I’m just a real nigga with taste, kid (Yup)

All ass synthetic, daddy, and bass, kid (Yeah)

Stuck bottles, fucking, a fat model riding (Aww, shit)

Them goggles with the GGs all on my face

Pick a place, make your album crazy

I come through the race and put you back in your space

[Break]

Ha, and stay the fuck out my face

And get the fuck out the place

Get your ass [?]

Yo, let’s keep feeding these niggas, man

Let’s make hip-hop even more special

Word up, you know what time it is, man

It’s like, they like Jolly Ranchers

Cooking light tonight?

Yeah, yo

Ayo, ayo, ayo

[Verse 2]

Ayo, the Chef, Marlon Brando, Black Rambo

Lord of the guns; Killah Hill, where it’s 200 Rambos (We got 200 Rambos)

Grease one fiend for traffic

Get in the mix, we got fifties, half-ounces of six

Playing Lionel and Diana, talking on the phone to a whore

“Bring the baggies, take the thousand to Nana”

While I’m in the zone, cat daddy, indica home

Blowing Earth weed, pardon me, Perth weed

Looking good, smelling like Indonesia (Yes)

Hair full of waves in the caves of Pisa

Chilling singing that “Mona Lisa”

Gold teeth in my mouth, handful of rings, the thiefster

All I know is “Rob ‘em, wing ‘em”

Under the building, blinging, 24 hours of slanging

Caking off G and staking off

Me and some goons from different parts of the Mediterr-ean

They thought all my brothers were Korean

Japan know me well, stop, that’s the Chef riding a BM

X6LIGT, me, twenty years old (Yo) inside of rap’s mausoleum

Black man, free him

Any real gangsta nigga or backpacker who love rap better see him

C-H-E-F or A-L-C-H-E-M, ayo, I-S-T ‘em (Ayy, yo yo yo)

[Outro]

Ayo, Alchemist, man

Let ‘em know what we doing, my nigga

Know this is motherfucking War of the Roses right here

Real diabolical, deadly shit

Let’s go