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Ay, I don't need no motherfuckin' ghostwriter So if you telling that lie, you must be real fuckin desperate And you still ain't gon' pop, how 'bout that? Yeah, Nicki! Nicki, can I get a picture? How a wack nigga gon' write my shit? My job is to take the spark and fan it When it starts to become a little flame, I feed it And I feed the fire until it becomes a roaring blaze Look at this box that they puttin' Ransom in I hereby give you the blood of a young champion I see 'em throwing jabs but, here's how I answer them I hustle with this Ali shuffle, you shouldn't dance with him (Nah) I'm ducking these interviews, I bob and wеave with a different movе Then I dance when I score like I'm Victor Cruz Pick and choose your opponents, I fights with the best of 'em Then fight to the death with 'em (Yeah) won't strike a pedestrian (Nah) What likely possesses him? (What is it?) True passion, who askin'? Every time I step in this square box, I produce action (Let's go) I give 'em hell 'cause I did it well, ducked shots but got hit So now when it rains on me, I feel these shells Another round left and you ain't got enough, fam I'm lookin' at your corner, your work got a lot of cut, man Huh, "I think he said he's had enough, Ran'" (No mas) You shouldn't bet against this TRUST fam A young Aaron Pryor with felonies on the wire SongtexteFair desire, man, I'm really too old to be airin' priors True story, you got no drive for the lane I'm swerving in I been a star but they labellin' me a journeyman Don't leave it to the judges, I raise my hand when the word is in I never got robbed so why would I have to worry then? (Why?) Severe hands and a sturdy chin, a couple flurries win I'm punching after the bell 'cause I never heard the "ding" Endure pain then I spit blood Ignore the games and resist love just to keep a stiff grudge I leave no prints on the fifth, cuh I got to admit, bruh, I be in fury wearing these big gloves (Woo) There's not a nigga that can spar with me Pull up and try to compare they bars with me I give 'em a scar quickly, I'm thinking that God's with me Controlling my breathing, they only tryna get even When they at odds with me (Yeah) Pure rock, this is straight glass, I teach 'em how to weigh it up It's obvious he ain't built for this weight class We all wanna see the greats clash (Yeah) A straight blast, body shots that cave in ribs and break abs Stoppin' who? They never gave me the proper due I gotta prosper through when the situation get rocky, too I been down, I cannot be moved, Mötley Crüe Rock a nigga, watch he snooze, blood on my Versace shoes They still praying that I'll probably lose (Why?) I triple Gs, leave Gennady bruised, I lived by the Gotti rules (What's that?) That means you should watch ya mouthpiece I'm Julius Caesar even without Greece There's no division that could subtract me The math free, don't wanna be counted out? Then you add me Don't really matter what the math be (Nothing) 'Cause you only good as your last performance, nigga, just ask me Aus Songtexte Mania