作词 : Sir Robert Bryson Hall II

作曲 : Sir Robert Bryson Hall II

编曲 : 无

Buck rap

Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic

Who done had it,

And he ready for anybody to buck back

Hold up, catch a vibe,

Ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive

Leave a suicide note that

Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this

I'm comin' for your man

And his lady and even the baby

I'm feelin' like I'm chika-chika-chika,

Slim Shady with rabies

I'm foamin' out the mouth,

Ain't nobody takin' me out

Every single rapper in the industry,

Yeah they know what I'm about

And I dare you to test me

'Cause not a single one of you mother****ers impress me

And maybe that's a little bit of an exaggeration

But I'm full of innovation

And I'm tired of all of this high school

"He's cool, he's not" rap 

Can a single one of you ****ers even rap? 

No, this ain't a diss to the game,

It's a gas to the flame

Nowadays, everybody sound the same,  lame

Like a moth to the flame, I'm a realer man, a killer

Know you feelin' it,

I sizzle when I'm spillin' it, I'm feelin' myself

Yeah, yeah, Bobby Boy, he be feelin' himself

Mass murder like this can't be good for my health

When I rap like this, do I sound like s**t?

Well, it don't really matter,

'Cause I'm killin' this s**t

Yeah, I'm killin' this s**t

Oh yeah, oh yeah, I'm killin' this s**t

Bobby, how many time you been killin' this s**t?

Find another rhyme, goddamn, s**t

Bust rap

Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic

Who done had it,

And he ready for anybody to buck back

Hold up, catch a vibe,

Ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive

Even suicide, no that

Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this

I'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby

I'm feelin' like I'm chika-chika-chika-chika

Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady

There's nowhere to hide, we call this s**t genocide

Hit 'em with that (Do-do-do) and they die

We gon' leave 'em crucified,

We call this **** genocide

I got b****es, I got hoes,

I got rare designer clothes

No, we ain't ****in' with that

Yeah, there's a time and a place

But if you ain't comin' with the illest of raps

Callin' yourself the greatest alive

Then you don't deserve to do that

No, no, oh no, no, please do not do that

You gon' get smacked

You gon' make Bobby attack

You gon' make Bobby Boy snap

You gon' make Bobby Boy snap (Bobby Boy!)

F**k rap

Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic

Who done had it, and he ready for anybody to buck back

Hold up, catch a vibe,

Ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive

Even suicide, no f**k that

Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this

I'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby

I'm feelin' like I'm chika-chika-chika-chika

Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady

Jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga like JAY-Z

Jig is up, you ****ers who didn't write anything

Are getting washed now, chika-chika-chika, like bathing

Young Hova, I know hittas like Yankees

Gun toters that pull triggers like crazy

Unloadin', leave you shot up in your Rover

Your body goes limp and slumps over

Like A-Rod in a month lull, but he just homered

Hol' up, I said rover because now your Rover is red

Like Red Rover, so you know what I meant

But I rode over my opponents instead

Makin' dog sounds

'Cause I gotta keep breakin' these bars down

I'll go slow for the speds

But when I go (Roof!) like the doberman said

I still think the (Roof!) would go over your head (Haha)

Beast mode, mother****ers 'bout to get hit

With so many foul lines you think I'm a free throw

Figured it was about time for people to eat crow

You about to get out-rhymed, how could I be dethroned?

I stay on my toes like the repo,

A behemoth in sheep clothes

From the East Coast to the West,

I'm the ethos and I'm the G.O.A.T.

Who the best? I don't gotta say a ****in' thing though

'Cause MCs know

But you don't wanna hear me spit the facts

Your s**t is a** like a tail bone

And you're trapped in your cell phone

I'ma chicken scratch, I'ma self-loathe

I don't want to ****in' listen to

You spit your rap someone else wrote

Used to get beat up by the big kids

Used to let the big kids steal my big wheel

And I wouldn't do s**t but just sit still

Now money's not a big deal

I'm rich, I wipe my a** with six mil'

Big bills like a platypus

A caterpillar's comin' to get the cannabis

I'm lookin' for the smoke

'Cause you mother****ers are scatterin'

Batterin' everything

And I've had it with the inadequate man

I can see my d**k is standin' stiff as a mannequin

And I'm bringin' the bandana

Back in the ****in' cabana again

The handkerchief

And I'm thinkin' of bringin' the ****in' fingerless gloves back

And not giving a singular f**k, like f**k rap

I sound like a ****in' millionaire

With the Darringer with a hair trigger

'Bout to bear hug your ****in' terrier to "Ric Flair Drip"

And y'all couldn't hold the candle at a prayer vigil

When I vent, they compare me to a ****in' air duct

I'm about to bare knuckle it, nah f**k it

I'm gonna go upside the head with a Nantucket

Abraca-****in'-dabra

The track is the blood of my track that I'm attackin'

What Dracula? F**k that s***t

I'm up back for the-

Man. Stop

[Chris D'Elia:]

Look what I'm plannin', plannin', I'm plannin' To do all this while ya panickin' And you're lookin' and starin' at mannequins And I'm goin' to Fanagans Tryin' to get up a plan against All of the blana-kazana-ka-fam-bam-bannigans While of all the bana-kazanika Hanna in a cabana You're in a cab-? I'm in a cabana and a Janet I'm in a cabana chantin' all this stand up banter While you don't got the stamina, you're lackin' the stamina You're lackin' the stamina while you're divorcin' Harrison Ford And I'm in a Porsche on the floorboards While I'm world tourin' You usin' way too many napkins Papkins, Lapkins and Chapki- You using ChapStick and napkins while I'm bapkin' Flappin' around like a bapkin' Flamminababbitapannitajampkin Dammit my can of p-