Artist: Joell Ortiz Album: Farewell Summer EP Song: Battle Cry Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com "All you chumps are gonna bow, when I whoop him, all of ya! I know you got him, I know you got him picked. But the man's in trouble, I'ma show you, how good I am!" [Joell Ortiz] How many times I gotta tell y'all I'm second to none? No magazine's Top 10 cause I'm negative one So I don't pay attention to them dumb folk Cause I'ma always be in first like the clutch broke I'm from where the cutthroats cut coke Cause school ain't cut it, they cut out to puff smoke And guess what? That's who I hang with So when you speak industry, I don't know the language But play a beat and I'll show you why I'm head honcho Y'all gettin away with murder like the white Bronco Bunch of trash in between hooks Bars too cute to be gettin all these mean looks Put the hottest rappers all on one stage together See who hold they arm up like Che Guevara I rhyme hotter and I say it better I'ma win a Cold War, I'm a product of the Reagan era Stay thinkin 'til the page inkin My 16's free y'all I'm hip-hop's Abe Lincoln Fam, I don't know what they thinkin These niggaz got me fucked up, like I spent all day drinkin I'm a boss, not a loss yet You lil' lemons in a race with a souped-up Corvette I'm so hot, I could stand still and pour sweat in the North Pole fully naked with my balls wet I'm a monster, these other niggaz small pets Claim they sick but they get cured by your dog's vet I'm thorough from my Yank' to my Gore-Tex You bluffin, I play poker, I'm callin all bets Local boy, when's the last time you all left? I don't even know where the FUCK I'm goin on tour next Last month Canada, before that Europe I have waffles out in Belgium, you ain't have syrup Every time I write it's another flight Another whore with my kids on her underbite Another YAOWA chant when I touch the mic Another magazine spread, yeah you fuckin right I'm on my grind like a pair of inline skates Get on tracks and go bananas like a primate Baboon, gorilla, chimpanzee or wild ape King Kong on the escape, I'm 'bout to sky-scrape But the sky ain't the limit I could teleport through my mind any minute Take you to a place where the lions go ribbit All the frogs roar and the fire is frigid I'm outta this world, don't belong here What good is heir'in the throne if I taught you from a small chair? Family, you niggaz got it twisted Flow out of the box, yours chicken and a biscuit Give me chicken pox when I listen I be itchin to cripple your career like a ligament is missin Dawg I'm on a mission like an intimate position When I swing it's knockouts, I ain't gettin a decision From here on it's locked, y'all a prisoner of spittin Can't escape my bars, no visitor's permitted Welcome to hell where Joell holds a pitchfork And you burn in eternal flames for your bitch-talk Dick in my hand, I'm pissed off But I ain't bucklin, every day I'm +Hustlin+, Rick Ross One day the whole globe'll know I'm Clark Kent Underneath the shades on a project park bench Superman when I grip the mic The only way I'm slowin down's if I blow a pound of kryptonite From now on I'm a bully, I'ma pick the fight Let them pick you up off the ground when I chip your bike You'll become a lil' memory, gigabyte Me and these beats got married, I'm Mr. Right Lil' man, you spit aight I'm on fire, you got a lil' buzz, Miller Lite Man it's so many words runnin 'round my brain If I don't put 'em on a track I would go insane Maybe that's why e'rything I say is crazy And e'ry day I wake up, with a naked lady with a V.I.P. band on my right wrist Pants on the floor, J.D. with a slight sip left in the bottle, telly key on the nightstand I go to the bathroom to pee and then I scram I live the life of a rock star They ain't wanna let me through so I became a cop car Put the sirens on e'ry time I touch a pen E'rybody move like dope, that's a fuckin ten My peers know I'm gonna win This music's like my first crush, for years I wanted in I'm here, oh boy will you taste the wrath I'ma make it ugly like what's underneath Jason's mask I listen to a lot of mixtapes and laugh All you niggaz do is whine like Jamaican ass E'ry night I celebrate, we take a glass of champagne to the brain, sometimes we take a bath! Victory feels far better than defeat, you niggaz weak, Solar's letter I'm harder than The Fonz leather My worst rhyme's thirty times rougher than your hardest bars ever I could front like a car fender Cause everything I'm on DJ's pull up, like the bartenders New York, I'm the answer to your prayers Head nod music, leave the dancin over there Project shit, ain't no mansion over here Just murder on the strings, Charles Manson on the snare I'm hungry, the game's like a food court I just gave y'all a loose hundred, Newports Geah! Joell Ortiz Who feel they Who feel they better? Hehe...