you say my rymes are bad , look at the rest of the punks and what they have, theyre sippin on a bottle lookin up at me as their role model in their craddle, i write myne down as soon as i make them, they take a month to jot one line that dont ryme , im the teacher ,they the preacher im teachin them with my pop up rymes, they at home writin them down, messin around changin other peeple shit , pretendin, they sendin they own origioinal hits , when they in the studio , what they ganna do yo, they don’t got nothing to show, then they gotta chance to blow , they ganna kick them right out the door, n they’ll be back at square one , theyr rap carrerre is done ,