Gimme that beat, fool, it's a full-time jack move Don't worry, 'Schino, I'll give it back soon Just having a little fun Wassup, my nigga? Ah-ooh S. Dot, the Collection Black Album coming soon Just gon' vent a little bit Have a little fun with it Yes, yes Ain't nobody dumpin' on Hov, you ain't in sanitation Or sanitarium, what are you, crazy? Jay-Z'll bury 'em I'll get you drug out the club, they'll have to carry 'em Go ahead, bug out, I'll Raid, nigga, scurry Worry, I'm, not, the Mike Jordan of the mic recording It's Hovi, baby, you Kobe, maybe; Tracy McGrady Matter-fact, you a Harold Miner J.R. Rider, washed up on marijuana Even worse, you a Pervis Ellis You worthless, fella; you ain't no athlete, you Shawn Bradley I ain't talkin' to nobody in particular My flow's just vehicular homicide when I'm kickin' up DUST! Anybody in my path is a car crash waiting to happen Nigga, WHAT! I got my foot on the throat on the pulse of this rap game And I ain't letting up, YUP! Who's the nicest? Life or lifeless on these mic devices And I don't write this, I just mic this, I will it to happen One-take Hov, I'm real at this rapping My new name is Just the Facts While the rest of y'all just adjust the facts Put words together, just to match I say what I feel, y'all adjust to that I do the opposite of y'all so I just attract The realer audience usually unjustly Black Know my flow and the shit they go through just match Like the sound of my voice and a choice Just track I just tackle the subject, the flak from the public is nothing I know real niggas happen to love it If you don't like it, then look in the mirror Most likely you ain't live it so you don't get it You ain't did it, so you can't vision, the picture I'm painting Ain't vivid, the language I'm spitting is so foreign to ya See what starving'll do to ya Growin' up hard in a little apartment'll do to ya Hah, I'm just talkin' to ya I'm just talkin' through ya