Artist: Popa Chief
Album:  Da Garden of Eden
Song:   Guess Who's Back
Typed by: Cno Evil

[Popa Chief]
Popa Chief the livewire, hot like a hair dryer
Everybody get low like a flat tire
Everybody bring an onion to the bonfire
Constantly expanding my Burnt Biskut empire
I get a chubby every time it's a sell out show
Let a nigga flow, niggas better have my dough
Extremely articulate, intricate like Hamlet
Styles immaculate, heat seaker counterfeit
The killas replacement, duck grenade fragments
I liver under the stairs, in the back of the basement
So far underground, some don't understand the sound
Look, listen, learn, nigga, this is how you put it down
No airplay, no promotions, no cannons exploding
Highjack to the higher presence of gats, got 'em open
Now tell me, what's fucking with that
Popa Chief ain't going nowhere, here forever like frat

*Popa Chief talking*

[Popa Chief]
Bus to the train to the plane
The marquise don't say my name
Only thing missing is the fortune of fame
You'll never amount to shit, you don't have what it takes
You're too old, you'll always be a loser
I know they giggling behind my back
Lost two fans over this rap shit, I love this bitch
Loved her so much, I married the bitch
Had a few hits wit the bitch, promised to never leave the bitch
We gon' stay together, until we get rich
Hip hop, 24/7 non stop, hah
Until the last brain cell pop, hah
Until they call the cops