I hate gossip and I don't walk around lookin' for it, you know?   But yesterday it seemed to just wander on till it found me   You know like, gossip found me, then why don't you try provin' it   How? You don't know how to prove it?   Well, what would you just do is   Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop   Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop      Stop, hatin' on a nigga that is a weak emotion, the lady of a nigga   And you can get tipped like ya waitin' on a nigga   Put a body bag and an apron on the nigga      I give my all behind the mic   But you could never see, if you sit behind the light   You don't have to pick me to win the title fight   But I'm gone wear that championship belt so tight      And if I'm wrong, there is no right   And if I'm wrong, there is no white   I'm tryna to be polite   But you bitches in my hair like to fuckin' pull lice      And my flow is rare, these other rappers nice   These other rappers bark, some of 'em even bite   But I'm much more bright, I give the game sight   So before you dim the light you just might, might wanna      Think it over   (Think it over)   Ooh, think it over   (Think it over baby, baby)      Get 'em   Stop, analyzin' criticizin'   You should realize what I am and start epitomizin'   Legitimate, I got the heart of the biggest lion   I'm confident like fuck 'em all pull out my dick and ride it      My flow sick, so sick, it's like my shit is dyin'   It rains a lot in my city, because my city's cryin'   Because my city's dyin' still I emerge from all of that   I am a livin' pion-eer, near Zion      Fear God, not them   Steer my Robin Coupe through the streets of the boot and soowoop   And, then I leave blood in a boot, I leave a blood bath   Sorry there's a tub in the boot, now where the drugs at?      I'm twisted like the strings on a shoe, no nigga bug that   I'm twisted like the strings on a boot   Now at New Orleans at      I feel your pop stole me like a bus pass   So in your possession, ah ah, I must ask      Hey, haven't I been good to you?   (Think it over)   Tell me, haven't I been sweet to you?      Drag my name through the mud   I come out clean cast away stones   I won't even blink   A gun is not a math problem   I won't even think      Just leave you dead like the mink under my sink   Don't believe in me, don't believe me   I've graduated from hungry   And made it to greedy      My flow is like pasta   Take it and eat it   But I'm gone need g's   If I'm bakin' the zeedy      You niggas want beef?   I want a steak and uh, we be   Lost in Amsterdam or Jamaica where we be   Hard body nigga, just takin' it easy   All about my paper, 'bout my paper like Eazy      Why do rappers? Why do rappers?   Lie to fans, lie to rappers, lot of rappers   Lie like actin', cut the mothafuckin' cameras   Cut the check nigga fuck your props   And make it out to Mr.Hip Hop      I'm not dead I'm alive