[ Featuring DJ Premier ]
Being a professional at our work
In what is rapidly becoming a world of amateurs
What are your qualifications?
You, you, you, you got five (yeah)
You, you, you, you got five, five minutes
You, you, you, you got (uh)
Five minutes to perform your fake act
Yeah, uh, you think you know me homie
You phony rappers talk baloney, y'all so far below me
Blow me, there ain't nobody who control me
I'm in a league of my own, I'm ain't competing for no trophy
I don't need no album budget, I record and make my own beats
Hit the studio all by myself, stand on my own feet
I'm a different breed, I do this for the crowd applause
Turn this hobby to a job, don't need no feature on a blog, nah
I ain't a star, I'm an asteroid
Trying to avoid these fake girls, takin' botox and ass steroids
Bunch of people who talk behind your backside
Like dissing someone on Twitter and not putting the "at" sign
You scramblin', career is over-easy
Been a dick since I was an egg in my mother's ovaries
Please believe me (believe me)
I ain't your rapper's favorite rapper
I'm my fans favorite rapper, this is just the latest chapter
Shout out to the artists working hard and undiscovered
That's my father on the guitar, I call him my motherf*cker, ooh
You think you know me, you don't know me
Kid, you're way off
I'm here to restore order
'Cause we all live in chaos, this is filthy
There you have it, the uncut rule for rap
Love to see me do this shit (yeah)
We the hottest thing moving
Who is this? Class!
Last man standing
It's filthy, dirty, grimy, cruddy
Feel so good but it sound so ugly
Nasty, muddy, oh so grungy
Yeah we get 'em up
You better ask somebody
Ayo, I spent the week in detox, but now I'm staring at my weed box
Excited to get higher than the treetops
Living in a cold world, and this is how I defrost
Strike like a peacock in a fresh pair of Reeboks
Shit, it's a thin line between magic and a bad trick
A matter of opinion between the wackness and the classics
So make sure whatever I make, I love it, first and foremost
These artists steal a style then they move on when it's worn out
When Kanye sped his samples up, everybody sped 'em up
Then the South slowed it down and everybody slowed it down
Then Drake and 40 showed them how to use a filter
How you supposed to hold the crown
If you don't even own your sound, huh?
I grew up on that boom bap, loud kick and snare
And kept rocking with it even when that sound disappeared
Came in the game when white rappers weren't a cliche
But man oh man, that's sure changing these days
Shit is filthy
There you have it, the uncut rule for rapping
Love to see me do this shit
We the hottest thing moving
Who is this? Class!
Last man standing
It's filthy, dirty, grimy, cruddy
Feel so good but it sound so ugly
Nasty, muddy, oh so grungy
Yeah we get 'em up
You better ask somebody
(Yeah) you got five (Premo)
You, you got five (Class)
You, you, you got five minutes (always wanted to say that)
You got five minutes to preform your fake act
Act (and then we're taking over it)
