Just Rhyming

[Verse 1: Your Old Droog]

Uh

Since Four Wings and homemade Icee

I been sheisty

Holding weight

The worst 'round

A bad seed like eight facing Golden State first round

Drowned in that brown water

Still rhyming like I'm holding headphones to the mic on Sound Recorder (ha)

Like I'm still selling punchlines

Eyes red, cutting droogs in the lunch line

With krills and a North Face jacket

I know this an oxymoron, but y'all are straight faggots

Nowadays emcees is hardly rhyming

They must've got stage fright like Carly Simon

You're So Vain, stick the knife in you torso

Pain, turn around, feed you Horse Lo Mein

Man these whores are so lamе

They rock Nirvana shirts in the hood but they don't know cocainе

Rappers drop they tape free and walk into these label meetings

Singing "Rape me, I'm an escapee, find me a cake"

Pity, like Utica, Utica, Utica!

Saying rhymes I don't know, or if that theraputica

[Hook: Your Old Droog]

From ghetto to ghetto

To backyard to yard

I spit it on soft drums or ones that's hard

We just rhyming

Rhyming

Rhyming

Just rhyming

From ghetto to ghetto

To backyard to yard

Marathon bars

Who wanna spar with the gods?

We just rhyming

Rhyming

Rhyming

Just rhyming

[Verse 2: Styles P]

Let me get your dying in order

My mother and father was probably fire and water

I come through the skies, am I wild? Am I wise?

Eyes on the window to the soul, no lie (no lie)

I can look in the mirror

Might see an extra dude

Or my reflection move

Turn niggas vegetable (Ha, ha, ha)

I could be ten states away and get next to you

It's odd, but it's hard when the gods start blessing you

Spookiest, the eeriest, wolf-so

I can smell a bitch on her period

Shit is dead serious

A few ghostwriters

An angel and a demon

And some lost souls screaming

Light the weed cause I'm fiending

King in my past life, died for my freedom

Am I a ___?? Am I royalty?

Nigga that's for you to guess

Never been to Budapest

Everyday's a Buddha fest

I ain't hell-real, but niggas know I'm a rubyrep

My new Style and Your Old Droog

Greeting at Whole Foods

You're slow dude, way before ProTools

I walked around with a pro tool

.38 special, yeah the ghost was so cruel

[Hook: Your Old Droog & Joey Bada$$]

From ghetto to ghetto

To backyard to yard

I spit it on soft drums or ones that's hard

We just rhyming

Rhyming

Rhyming

Just rhyming (Microphone bully)

From ghetto to ghetto

To backyard to yard

Marathon bars

Who wanna spar with the gods?

(We just) We just rhyming

(We just) Rhyming

(We just) Rhyming

Just rhyming (yo turn it up)

[Verse 3: Joey Bada$$]

(Check)

Hold the applause

Who wanna spar?

I got the rifle on, whenever I rap, that's all

Still doing somersaults with my eyelids

And even with my eyes closed, can't do what I did (no)

Still waking up and asking Lord "Can I live?"

They never liked us

Want to see us up in Rikers Island (shit) (uh)

Illuminati want me for my mind, soul and body

Only if these niggas knew they feared the wrong posse

Mentally disturbed (yeah)

A menace to sobriety

Until I leave this Earth (whoo)

A tenant to society

And which is even worse? (ugh)

I can see the hearse (yeah)

Parked outside the church, that's my gift and my curse (shit)

I'm on a mission, keep an op for opposition

Nigga's trying to stick for the rap position

But Joey's never hiding

He's ready when you find him

My niggas won't hesitate to escalate

For now, we're just rhyming

N'am saying?

(Yeah) (ha, ha)