-Lyrics/Hey Fuck You-

LYRICS

Hey Fuck You

Which of you schnooks took my rhyme book?
Look, give it back. You're wicky wack
with your ticky tack calls. Didn't touch you at all.
I didn't touch your hand man you know its all ball.
You sold a few records but don't get slick
'cause you used a corked bat to get those hits.
You've been in the game, your career is long.
But when you really break it down, you've only got 2 songs.
MC's are like clay pigeons and I'm shootn' skeet.
I just yell pull and MMM drops the beat.
You people call yourselves MC's but you're garbage men
takin' out the trash when you pull out the pen.

AND IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT THEN HEY FUCK YOU!

I read about you up on page 6.
They was trashin' your ass. it's sad you're getting dissed.
Now talk about your face. now don't get pissed.
but I suggest you see a dermatologist.
I keep that hot sauce hot, not mild and weak.
It's gonna burn your mouth until you wet your beak.
I've got billions and billions of rhymes to flex.
'Cause I've got more rhymes than Carl Sagan's got turtlenecks.
Your rhymes are fake like a Canal Street watch.
You're hearing me and you're like, "Oh my god its Sasquatch!"
I'm walkin' on water while you're stepping in shit.
So put your sewer boots on before your ass gets lit.

AND IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT THEN HEY FUCK YOU!
SO PUT A QUARTER IN YOUR ASS CAUSE YOU PLAYED YOURSELF

Sucker MC's, it's me they're resenting.
In the animal kingdom they call it presenting.
With the dipsy doodle, the kit and caboodle.
The truth is brutal, your grandma's kugel.
Kings County is my stomping ground.
The Albee Square Mall, Brooklyn, Downtown.
So don't ask me to wine and dine ya.
I'm from Brooklyn you're from Regina.
You're like Foghorn Leghorn, Yosemite Sam.
You're just yellin' and wildin' wondering who I am.
With those lies you're telling, you look like Toucan Sam.
But my style's impregnable like the Hoover Dam.

AND IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT THEN HEY FUCK YOU!