Lyrics Born - I'm Just RawLyrics

[Intro] His name is (Lyrics Born) And he is, as they say, wild and crazy As a composer, arranger, and producer He's exploring it all From the furthest reaches of musical outer space To the most down to earth funk And he sounds, well, he sounds exactly like this [Verse 1] Nobody 'members those Rap City episodes from twenty years ago When you were the guest host Past history, let it go Get off on a medical Pack a duffle bag with all your wrinkled clothes and pedal home Get a little dictaphone and sit alone In the middle of the room and let it flow Wouldn't it be better If you went and chose a new career path Like a shepherd or a flight attendant on an aircraft? You're pitiful, a pollywog Tiny fishy in a smaller pond Holding barbie dolls and leftover beads from the Mardi Gras Actin hella hard but that's just poppycock 'Cause inside you're hella soft like a Jolly Rancher lollypop I'll give you cauliflower ears stupid You're weird Feelin blue On a stool somewhere, two-fisting beers At a Hofbrau Moaning like a hot cow Cryin on the shoulder of some old man you met just now [Chorus] I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me [Verse 2] Look I'm sorry, mate This is awkward, k? Little hard to say So I'll just say it Me and your mommy date She's awfully great She's a soft seatmate She calls me late Always wants to meet On her coffee breaks She bought me seats To Bonnie Raitt Now there's no concrete date But she bought the ring It's Marjorie May And my stockings stink From my foot up in your ass 'Cause you drive me absolutely batty See I'm crabby when you get around me Tell me who's your daddy Call me Mister McAffee, your poop-deck pappy Shut your trap and get back in the backseat of the Camry Don't sass me or I'll backhand you Smack you with an axe-handle Burn you with a wax candle Slap you with a sandle I'm trying to watch the rap channel Can't you tell we laugh about you? Call yourself a rapper but I gives a rat's ass about you [Chorus] [Verse 3] Why do I even bother with these Hoff-brand cats Y'all are wombats man I'm bout to blow this pop stand Lyrically y'all don't compare to me in any contest Like a stealth bomber up against a Hyundai Accent Tall-can to a shot glass Bong-hit to a contact Gary Coleman versus Big Boss Man The Loch Ness Monster up against a crawdad Talking Sly Stallone in Rocky versus Sly Stallone in Copland Judge Judy versus Johnny Cohcran Oh man Nell Carter versus Karen Carpenter topless Better yet, Broadband Compared to a long ass Piece of string connecting two pop cans It's all bad Don't quit your job at all believe me you'll be so glad back Hold on with both hands It's sucks washing sauce pans I know there's an off chance that one day hip-hop heads Will maybe feel rappers in the top-ten that crossdress [Chorus] [Outro] Ever since his triumphant return from his first album, L.T.D. Critics are calling (Lyrics Born) the brightest new star in years (Same Shit, Different Day) is his new album, on his own label And it's got the kind of top talent (Lyrics Born) always surrounds himself with Here's a sample of what they're raving about