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letra de resurrect - iq

[intro]
r-r-ruling like a boss
came up with the sauce
mosh pit like we playing moss
eyes criss-cross
give me a couple years to make a bigger hit than rick ross
but now i’mma spit soft, psyche i’m p-ssed off

[verse]
all you rappers come and diss me i can take a hit
all these rappers, they commit, but they never make a hit
can’t stand this, boy, why don’t you just take a sit
i don’t wanna babysit, flying daggers, no pistol on you
flying guillotine let’s figure out who’s head it fits onto
i might have to k!ll you but, i don’t really want to
wait who are you
take off the costume
oops, wait you really just look like that? d-mn
you really left me shook like that
like really, how the h-ll you look like that
wait, lemme stop, watch, you gonna tell the cops
you sensitive little boys
playing with your little toys
stop tryna act tough before growing into a bigger boy
or continue to get humiliated, really your choice
i’m giving you a voice (voice)
psyche boy
like stop making all o’ this noise
shut up, like i don’t really wanna hear you
i don’t even wanna get near you, but i don’t fear you
‘cause you’re like a mouse, i’m a lion
you can tell that i’m not lying
‘cause you’re listening while crying
music is a science
you can’t put a hi-hat and snare piercing my ears
and expect it to last for years, like it brings me to tears
like thinking one day rap might not be here, that’s my number one fear (fear)
rap was basically dead, and i had to resurrect
so boy show me respect, doing a favor for the rest
put out a good song, make money, really cause and effect
but you’re looking at me like i got six legs, insect
you’re thinking it’s easy to make it, i cannot take this
stop your whining and go to the studio
but you’re probably wasting money ‘cause your raps are doody yo
don’t make another gummo remix, yea that’s kinda fruity yo
like some fruity pebbles, but i prefer the cocoa
relating to young m.a., not related but i’m loco
i remember that rap battle we planned, you were a no show
they say life’s a picture, better step out of the photo
screaming turning orange in the face like oompa loompa
said you write your own lyrics, sounds fishy like some tuna
cuban on my neck, you better check yours at the jeweler’s
looks like some plastic like a dollar store ruler
ha ha, yea i’m laughing
you’re saddened
what happened
imagine, actually rapping
instead of all of that capping
talking ‘bout that sk!ll that you’re actually lacking
you’re actually acting like you’re factually rapping
when your girl come up to me, she always acting starstruck
her eyes light up like the lights next to my car trunk
sad that you think you’re better, my heart sunk
your raps are good, psyche, that’s why i’m ripping out parts of ‘em
talking ‘bout you gonna shoot me with a shotgun
but you ain’t got one
said you gon’ pop me like a perc but you ain’t ever pop one
you’re getting triggered, oou you a little hot one
you wishin’ i would finish but i’m not done
said you gon pop me like a bottle, you ain’t ever bought one
underage lil kid, you will never be a rapper best believe right now you’re not one
on the billboards, in a couple years, i will be the top one
not planted in this industry
no one handed or gave to me
on a playlist, i’m easily added like 2 plus 3
music’s a gift that keeps giving like what santa puts under trees
or candy, wonderful treat
taken for granted easily
don’t need autotune to sell a song on itunes
i’m like rakim (rockin) with a rap habit, i had to use it
silly rabbit, tricks are for kids
i’m not gon’ rob you, but i’ll still be hitting l!cks after l!cks
try to run up on me you definitely gonna die
put you up in the sky
psyche put you in the ground
dig you back up three days later then put you right back down
wiggity-wack rappers wanna take my crown
this is my town, i’m always around serving the sounds and flows people hear and know
you’re no eminem or cole, and you’re certainly not iq, ha, ha, ha
no no no

[outro/skit: iq & iq’s father]
“quit all that yelling down there boy!”
“sorry, dad.”
“hey, let me ask you something.”
“yea.”
“did i hear something about a flying guillotine?”
“yea.”
“that’s my boy.”

- iq

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