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Artist: Your Old Droog 
Album:  Packs
Song:   Rapman
Typed by:

Protectin all the land from New York to Japan
He's the one no villain can escape
Superhero with a cape and a mixtape
What's his name? Rapman!
Tinted Cartier's with a studio tan
Work ethic of a Mexican
And to rap more bills than election vans

[Your Old Droog]
Yo, check it, stormin through like a panther
with a black fist, scattin combattin all the wackness
These dudes ain't emcees, they good actors
who too quick to succeed, need practice
Lock 'em in the room with The Cactus Album
and some "Follow the Leader" Rakim
You know I be out late fightin the crime
of rappers not writin their rhymes
Teach 'em how to be a better beat picker
Get albums done and come out with heat quicker
Yo, I'm sick of these sickle fans who wanna make their idols proud
I want my hero to hear me and shit his pants
Rewind what I said
Writin in my durag that keep lines in my head
Prevents me from pennin hot trash and
Keeps the focus on the music - not fashion
Grab the microphone to voice issues
Lot of brothers tunes soundin like moist tissues
Laugh at, where cats are takin the sounds
Every bartender, that's why they're makin the rounds
Listen, they a joke doin trap
I'm huntin down err'y cat spewin that coke rap
With that fake-ass drug dealer image they try portray
Even John'll tell you that ain't your +Forté+
Not lettin it fly, plus you got tongues
talk of that third-eye crap of gettin high
Punks - makin theyself hot
Burn in the public like Vietnamese monks
Peddlin junk, I envy their tour bus
Snatch 'em out of they bunks, hang up the dunks
'til err'y single rapper spittin that forthright
Turn off their mics, the need to be more like...


[Your Old Droog]
The J-O is real heavy man, so I lay low
Play the everyman, stay to myself
Cause people too nosy, but still
Nobody knows what I do like Jarobi
My words pissin off the po-po
But it's dope though, managed to keep the low pro
Say good night to my white neighbors
Then go inside and rhyme fight with lightsabers
Break 'em down to the molecules
So it ain't all about cheddar chumps and brolic jewels
Preachin the gospel, to think that 
I used to twist spliffs, causin mischief at high school
Gangs was my Kryptonite
Like son, how you a Blood this morning, turn Crip tonight?
Flippin white, hash pills and chronic
Would go to D.C. but not for +Comics+
Prior to gettin clean, I was an addict, a fiend
Now I'm healthy and the diet is mad strict
Makin green drnks, eatin a tangerine
Tryna wean zombies off xans and lean
Forecd to deal with all this anguish
Dudes mumblin, soundin like they rappin in a different language
I'll have them enunciate every vowel and
Make the old washed-up rappers throw the towel in
And those doin weaker versions of what's already been done before
Fill their backpacks with C4
Your beef is yours
I'm over here fightin a bigger war against Lex Lyor
Hop in the ride quick with my sidekick
Breezin by, blastin Aquemini
I been a guy, you already know
when you see that microphone signal in the sky