[Verse 1]
Great Scott, jeepers
Only thing that changed was my crates got deeper
Big shoes to fill, word to Aesop's sneakers
Supposed to be with Jux
But I just don't give a fuck, what the fuck is I'm supposed to do?
Bills don't pay themselves, on the shelf's where they kept me at
Left D. Swain for dead, so I said "I'm bringin' sexy back"
And by "sexy" I mean that real shit
That "supposed to have a deal, so what's the deal" shit
How real is this?
But I ain't really got no time for the sad songs, my harmonica is empty
I'm just tryin' to get ahead, Monica Lewinsky
Took matter in his own hands like a physicist
Look at him, he's his own man, I can live with this
Never really been the type to fret
I just forget and get beats off my chest
But please excuse me if I sound perturbed
'Cause half of you clowns is nerds that beat off to West
Who's gassin' you niggas son?
How can haters stand there and say I sound like him? Hell no
Kick rocks, bitch; Timb boots, Vans or shell-toes
Or them joints with the velcro, diabetic jump-offs
You still comparin' me in 2008? You chumps lost
Pocketful of gems
But y'all was way too occupied comparin' me to him that y'all missed the boat
Missed the train, yes D. Swain was overlooked
So I'm on the flight home, the game is overbooked
Everybody rap now son
How can I compete when
Everyone's a hustler and I'm just a producer
Chokin' on these vocals, Heimelich maneuver
At war for half my life sometimes the mind can trick the trooper
Into thinking that his shine is just a blooper
Of course it feels just like a fluke whenever I get press but let's be honest
I'm killin niggas right now, word to Jeffrey Dahmer
Every honor, every accolade accumulated
You have hated, never really givin' me props
So tell me when the ignorance stops
Feelin' like Jay in '95 or 'Ye in '03
Today is the day that I broke free
And stand on my own two
I guess I need to do what I need to do
Tell me how YOU'D feel if no one believed in you
Made it to the majors, eight months later
Still can't get an article in Fader, what the fuck?
Niggas act like I don't even exist, you believe this shit son?
(I do have SOME fans though)
My demographic's all over the place
Kids like it when I keep it clean, sort of like an organized book shelf
Plus I'm 24 and I look twelve, so that helps
Player Of The Year, win more awards than Matt Phelps
I put it down for the eclectic crowd
The sexually-depraved and those that shout their expletives loud
And rock their Danny necklaces proud, a Dan fan forever
These jealous rappers make it rain but can't stand the weather
They bitin' off everything I do now son
All I ever wanted was shine, but they gave me a dimmer
Tried to throw me overboard and I ain't even a swimmer
Having talent ain't enough, it isn't fair
They say you gotta be ground-breaking just for niggas to care
So this is my last album
This is my last volume
This here's the last dance, meet my ass in the ballroom
[Bridge: Kid Syc]
D. Swain, you gotta lighten up my man
You know what I'm sayin', relax a lil' bit
At the end of the day it's just music
[Danny!]
You right, you right
Hey bring that beat back
[Verse 2]
Uh
Check the lyrics I drop like Papoose from Jive
'Til the year that I stop, you'll never hear that I'm not super fly
'Cause fear it or not, you're gonna cop
Two or three copies 'cause got-dammit I'm here and I'm hot, do or die
Delirious thoughts, niggas get lost, brutalized
Who am I to complain? Committin' career suicide
"Just make the music Danny, please shut the fuck up
Nobody wanna hear you complain about the game
We know, we know: you're overlooked, you wanna blow
But oh, you're so dramatic
Let these little niggas have it"
The gloves is off, the love is done
I ain't in it for the spinach like THESE niggas, I do it for fun
For sport, from the soul so you know it's real
I'm just tryin' to give you somethin' you can feel
...been spittin' that fly shit, waaaaay before the deal, uh
