Hip Hop Warning Songtext

I'ma do more than just murder a mixtape

I'ma do more than just murder a mixtape

I'ma do more than just murder a mixtape

Pollution I smell that in the breeze

But let's try not to get mad at the trees

Tell 'em all not to get mad at the leaves

Let's get mad at the idiots that planted the seeds

When it comes to mixtapes I'm known as the Messiah

I influence these other rappers to get tighter

Go to every label and murder the checkwriter
Whoever hired him we should pray they get fired

As soon as they kick him out on Broadway

Show him how to make his hip ?hop? the hard way

I bring the whole south with me you should just call me

And we can make a piñata out of him all day

And I even finnin' to be gentle

You can murder Seline for sending me the instrumental

It ain't coincidental how they can get in your mental

Then the minute you see it they tell you it was accidental

All rich rappers do is complain

Everybody arguing to be on top of the game

9 out of 10 rap about coppin' them thangs

Or how the gat go braat braat braat braat when it bang

And it seem like H-Town got the popular slang

Platinum grills everybody else coppin the same

Platinum grills everybody else coppin the same

Then everybody run to that like it's the poppinest thang

What is that man? Where the hell your swagger at?

Who going to be the first to bring the old swagger back?

Doing what I do seems like boys mad at that

You was sharp homie where the hell your dagger at?

I was a fan sitting up in the stands

When it was M-E-T-H-O-D MAN

You hear M-E-T-H-O-D for Cham

When Rakim was still thinking of a masterplan

And it worked! And now I'ma fit up in my place

Stay humble stay focused and show that I got grace

You better not point the burner to my face

Better load up the burner and then turn it to myspace

Preach! The same rapper that die hard

Bruce Willis with a vest under the Izod

Wanna beat you? Man I ain't gotta try hard

You getting beat by the internet and your iPod

The label don't want you to be Master P

Took the master and put it right after P

?Bump it master? but I won't let them master me

You're an idiot if you're giving up your masters free

Corporate America is f-ing up the rap game

While we argue about which rapper got the phat chain

You real gangsta you pulling out your gat man

The real gangsta is whoever own your rap name

Like Busta said ?You should give a performance?

That's the truth us rappers shouldn't try to avoid it

If you're married to the game go ahead and divorce it

Especially if it's rap we ain't even enjoying it

I am not going to point a 'K at a magazine

Because of what someone say in the magazine

I can pull out my chain yelling ?Bada Bling?

Or on a G4 plane sitting by the wing

Telling you ?the leather feel good don't it??

For 50 Thou you'll have a real good moment

The plane's landed by the pilot that flown it

I am not an idiot cause I'm trying to own it

Little kids look at me and say that ?You best?

One point three million in the U-S

Some label exec getting in a new desk

I get an award they tell me that I'm too blessed

Honestly it just excited my family

I just hide the medicine inside of the candy

Get cured by the music blasting out of your Camry

If not I'll hide the medicine inside of your brandy

Cause I know that y'all boys gotta be drunk

To think that Chamillionaire gonna be a industry punk

I'm a in-da-streets problem you will get stomped

Get kriss-krossed off when the kid jump

Some of them try to rhyme but they can't rhyme like this
Some of them try to rhyme but they can't rhyme like this
Some of them try to rhyme but they can't rhyme like this

Some of them try to rhyme but they can't

Because I'm the miggity miggity mack that stacks the plat plaques

But rap is so wack so I'm back to spit crack

March 27th I'm back and that's fact

So rappers that can't rap get ready 'cause it's a wrap!