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letra de what's poppin (remix) - qubik

what’s poppin? nothin much, just rockin
you gotta glock, but i got fort knox at my house
this game’s like some tea
i hop in and out
who’s stoppin me? not the cops
i’m goin too fast. don’t live in the past
on your mind; that’s a cast
my appeal is so vast. cause my lyrics fantastic
you’re a d-mn spastic
i’m rulin the game, it ain’t aristocratic
what’s happenin? nothin much, just rappin
i’m in boston, bouta off em
coronavirus, my coughing gonna put you in a coffin
i’m robbin the cops, diagnosing the docs
and cleaning the mops. respect to custodians
they clean up the sh-t that i drop from the podium
back on my g sh-t, and i am the reason
that you are not breathing
your priest is deceiving, the army’s retreating
when i come around
i’m a f-ckin rapper now
but when i k!ll you, i don’t make a sound
when i’m pickin my bеats, i look for the smoke
like a slavе in the south
don’t hear the words, that flow out your mouth
but it’s something about adidas flux
i don’t take any ls, cause i give 0 f-cks
waiting for the day where i can play the half time
i flow faster than the match five
i’m writin this joint as a pastime
but this next tape, gonna be way better than last time
i’m so desensitized, i’m gonna need a baptisation
i’m waiting for my train of thought
to reflect on this track, like a train station
f-ck a playstation. i’d rather play the mcc
i know you envy me
you claim you’re a god, but you’re just holy cr-p
i’m breakin some bread while i’m writin this rap
money don’t last, but wu is forever
i put my date on the top of my list, like i’m writing a letter
i’ll make more annotations on g*nius than your english assignment
f-ck all your diamonds, and f-ck your roley
you can’t tell the time
you stuck in a fake box, you could be a mime
i fill mothaf-ckas with so much led, that they p-ss school water
b-tch i was learnin about where to commas
papoose was teachin me about alphabetical slaughta
you got a chain? you wanna cookie?
you claim you’re a pro, but you rhyme like a rookie
you couldn’t face me, even if you were a dc villain
i’m chillin and grillin and spillin the secrets
i end the weekends. you lose to the weakest
i can spell negus
you seem like a nice person, but your pen game is hurtin
i am asserting my dominance, like the 20th letter in the alphabet
if you went up 4 steps, we could be equal like malcolm x
every deep song you got, has a random flex
just outta the blue, like mild turrets
your style is dead, and mine has just started
you think you’re the sh-t? nah, you just sharted
if i’m f-ckin wack, you must be retarted
-gasp- “canceled! canceled! canceled!”
the f-ck is that? i love love, and i hate hate. ain’t that enough?
do i have to consider the thoughts of every single one of you f-cks?
if so, then nothin would exist. and it makes me p-ssed
but it is what it is. i’d sign a billion petitions
but can’t listen to you b-tchin on twitter
cause you ain’t doin sh-t, and you know it
don’t say it, just show it. but i know it’s difficult
i sacrifice you on the drums, this sh-t is a ritual
you claim that you’re mainstream
but i’m the one who’s rowin the boat
and if you fall off, you won’t have an ego to keep you afloat
i’m the titanic, and you’re ice will not stop it
so i’ll end this sh-t with one final comment;
what’s poppin?

- qubik

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