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Correct The People's Champ Lyrics
Lyrics
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Artists: R
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R.A. The Rugged Man
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Correct The People's Champ
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Lyrics:
Hear ye, hear ye, yah In this future of hip hop history I'm here to bring out the people's champ R.A. The Rugged Man Put your hands up, tell 'em wild out This is how we do it, we here to turn it out Put your hands up, tell 'em wild out This is how we do it, we here to turn it out Yo, my flow reminiscent of a prime Grand Puba My tongue sharper than the sword of the Japanese Yakuza Beats always slamming like Dilla, like Ali was the man in Manilla Man or gorilla, I'm a nicer striker than Anderson Silva I'm conquering like Hannibal on the back of an elephant I'm the best even if I'm pink and pale and I'm lacking in melanin I've been a problem since my first birth date In the delivery room my dick hit the ground and it caused a earthquake The school hallways I was pissing in As a kid I was lacking in discipline Ignoring authorities and never listening I come from the slummiest of slum villages, killing evil You come from a village of disco dancing; Village People You other rappers I'm obliterating My flow is the Michelangelo Sistine Chapel You ain't even finger painting Bitch, I'm swinging nunchucks and hitting you dumb fucks And making you duck down like Ruck and Ruste Juxx I'm eyeing you fat bitches and seeing which one fucks I'm making the gun blust, I'm bringing the blood guts Come on I get it done for the (people, people) I'm the champ, I'm the champ of the (people, people) I bring home the title to the (people, people) I'm the motherfucking champ of the (people, people) I'm the motherfucking champ of the (people, people) This isn't money and a Grammy and an Academy Award This a brutal lyrical verbal version of Gatti and Ward If I bust in your eye, it might blind ya As a kid I was too hyper, sniffing pancakes syrup from Aunt Jemima Sip wine with Jesus 'till I'm in a drunken stupor Then I slap box God and sumo wrestle with Buddha I ain't dumbing it down, I'm murdering and gunning it down These others artists I'm above them even if I'm under the ground A rapper with a Maybach or a car that my ass can't afford I'll rip out the windshield and I'll shit on your dashboard Don't make me laugh, young blood newcomer Your mother was a crackhead, you a crack baby fresh out of the dumpster Smacking ya, hurt ya, I murk ya, massacre mass murder Blasting your ass, stashing the burner, the trash lurker I'm worser than Rambo in Bhurma I'm dumb in the head, I'm not a fast learner The white boy version of Nat Turner Come on I get it done for the (people, people) I'm the champ, I'm the champ of the (people, people) I bring home the title to the (people, people) I'm the motherfucking champ of the (people, people) I'm the motherfucking champ of the (people, people) Tommy Hearns Marvelous Marvin Hagler with the vernacular Bullets splattering through your kidney and flying out the back of ya I'm shining like diamonds in Africa I'm mathematical, scientifical like Benjamin Banneker Rowdier than riots in Attica I got identity issues, it's self hatred, a pissed off Wigga acting like I just stepped off of the slaveship I kill any beat, murder any track Mutilate the snare, rape the kick-drum and shit on the hi-hat Come on I get it done for the (people, people) I'm the champ, I'm the champ of the (people, people) I bring home the title to the (people, people) I'm the motherfucking champ of the (people, people) I let it rock for the (people, people) I'm the champ, I'm the champ of the (people, people) I really live for the (people, people) I'll win it all for the (people, people) That's what we are, we just (people, people) I'm the champ, I'm the champ of the (people, people)
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