Raw (Might Just) - Clarke Paige

These nigga's knock off diamonds are shining But they ain't blinding No pizza bitch I got banks in my pockets Where's the ladder I'm climbing She gon pop, lock it and drop it I ain't talking wrist but she watching Me right now, hundred bands stuffed in my jeans right now YSL, there's no "I" in "team" right now, no way Beating the block till the sun come up I'm rocking gold like Rols-R-Us I talk more shit than Damien does I put the steel up in stain lil cuz I, I, I be that Young Thugger Thug Throwing these bitches straight off of the boat We don't save them Hey, a wise man told me nothing He said them snitches they get stitches I just spent a Bentley on my kidneys Saying I gave my bro the address to road to riches I, I might just take care of bae Yeah, I might just make karat my ladies On my worse day she a 9 like Brady But I traded in the Keisha or Kaycee's Yeah, she love me, she love me, love me for that Yeah, she love me, she love me, love me for that Yeah, she love it, I'm honest she loving that Yeah, my love is so big she can't lose that Thugger Ay, yeah, yeah Saying to her That's how you do it nigga That's how you motherfucking do it nigga Peep this, ay L-O-V-E, I say lil mama down to ride and die for me Okay, you green no seaweed Psych, I want you to hurry get into me I drop like ten thousands ones on ones on ones I told her come on home hun You can have my son We eat ching chong, diamonds they go boing Hop inside that pussy like a trampoline, boing boing Hey wait Grab that lil ass by the way Beep beep beep like a bus on that ass, so big I swear to god I'mma fuck her now her body getting big I swear to god I'mma do everything I ain't did Plus brodie said the bitch pussy bright pink as a pig I, I might just take care of bae Yeah, I might just make karat my ladies On my worse day she a 9 like Brady But I traded in the Keisha or Kaycee's Yeah, she love me, she love me, love me for that Yeah, she love me, she love me, love me for that Yeah, she love it, I'm honest she loving that Yeah, my love is so big she can't lose that

His name is (Lyrics Born) And he is, as they say, wild and crazy As a composer, arranger, and producer He's exploring it all From the furthest reaches of musical outer space To the most down to earth funk And he sounds, well, he sounds exactly like this Nobody 'members those Rap City episodes from twenty years ago When you were the guest host Past history, let it go Get off on a medical Pack a duffle bag with all your wrinkled clothes and pedal home Get a little dictaphone and sit alone In the middle of the room and let it flow Wouldn't it be better If you went and chose a new career path Like a shepherd or a flight attendant on an aircraft? You're pitiful, a pollywog Tiny fishy in a smaller pond Holding barbie dolls and leftover beads from the Mardi Gras Actin hella hard but that's just poppycock 'Cause inside you're hella soft like a Jolly Rancher lollypop I'll give you cauliflower ears stupid You're weird Feelin blue On a stool somewhere, two-fisting beers At a Hofbrau Moaning like a hot cow Cryin on the shoulder of some old man you met just now I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me Look I'm sorry, mate This is awkward, k? Little hard to say So I'll just say it Me and your mommy date She's awfully great She's a soft seatmate (?) She calls me late Always wants to meet On her coffee breaks She bought me seats To Bonnie Raitt Now there's no concrete date But she bought the ring It's Marjorie May (?) And my stockings stink From my foot up in your ass 'Cause you drive me absolutely batty See I'm crabby when you get around me Tell me who's your daddy Call me Mister McAffee, your poop-deck pappy Shut your trap and get back in the backseat of the Camry Don't sass me or I'll backhand you Smack you with an axe-handle Burn you with a wax candle Slap you with a sandle I'm trying to watch the rap channel Can't you tell we laugh about you? Call yourself a rapper but I gives a rat's ass about you Why do I even bother with these Hoff-brand cats Y'all are wombats man I'm bout to blow this pop stand Lyrically y'all don't compare to me in any contest Like a stealth bomber up against a Hyundai Accent Tall-can to a shot glass Bong-hit to a contact Gary Coleman versus Big Boss Man The Loch Ness Monster up against a crawdad Talking Sly Stallone in Rocky versus Sly Stallone in Copland Judge Judy versus Johnny Cohcran Oh man Nell Carter versus Karen Carpenter topless Better yet, Broadband Compared to a long ass Piece of string connecting two pop cans It's all bad Don't quit your job at all believe me you'll be so glad back Hold on with both hands It's sucks washing sauce pans I know there's an off chance that one day hip-hop heads Will maybe feel rappers in the top-ten that crossdress Ever since his triumphant return from his first album, L.T.D. Critics are calling (Lyrics Born) the brightest new star in years (Same Shit, Different Day) is his new album, on his own label And it's got the kind of top talent (Lyrics Born) always surrounds himself with Here's a sample of what they're raving about