Drake tired of the AI's

Illeye buckmatic

Illeye buckmatic

I Don't Stunt I Regulate
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A Buckeye State Of Mind
Digital Omen said:
:ahh:

I mean by that point its a rewrite of the whole song.

Read this in Jay's voice:

What's up nikkas, hey yo, I know I ain't talking 'bout you dog
Me, what?
("fukk Jay-Z")
I been on your dikk nikka, I love your style, nikka
("fukk Jay-Z")
(He) fukk with my soul like ether
(Will) Teach you the king you know you
(Not) "God's son" across the belly
(Lose) You prove I lost already

Brace yourself for the main event
Y'all impatiently waiting
It's like an AIDS test, what's the results?
Not positive, who's the best? Pac, Nas and Big
Ain't no best, East, West, North, South, flossed out, greedy
He embrace y'all with napalm
Blows up, no guts, left chest, face gone
How could Nas be garbage?
Semi-autos at your cartilage
Burner at the side of your dome, come outta his throne
He's got this, locked since '9-1
He's the truest, name a rapper that he ain't influenced
Gave y'all chapters but now he keep his eyes on the Judas
With Hawaiian Sophie fame, kept his name in my music
Check it

fukk with my soul like ether
(Will) Teach you the king you know you
(Not) "God's son" across the belly
(Lose) He prove I lost already
Hey yo, pass me the weed, pour my ashes out on these nikkas man (no doubt)
Hey, y'all fagots, y'all kneel and kiss the fukkin' ring
fukk with my soul like ether
(Will) Teach you the king you know you
(Not) "God's son" across the belly
(Lose) He prove I lost already

He's been fukked over, left for dead, dissed and forgotten
Luck ran out, they hoped that he'd be gone, stiff and rotten
Y'all just piss on him, shyt on him, spit on his grave (uh)
Talk about him, laugh behind his back but in his face
Y'all some "well wishers, " friendly acting, envy hiding snakes
With your hands out for his money, man, how much can he take?
When these streets keep calling, heard it when he was sleep
That this Gay-Z and Cockafella Records wanted beef
Started cocking up his weapon, slowly loading up this ammo
To explode it on a camel, and his soldiers, he can handle
This for dolo and my manuscript, just sound stupid
When KRS already made an album called Blueprint
First, Biggie's my man, then I got the nerve to say that Im better than Big
dikk sucking lips, why won't I let the late, great veteran live?

"God's son" across the belly, he prove I lost already
The king is back, where his crown at?
(I'll, will) Ill Will rest in peace, let's do it nikkas
fukk with my soul like ether
(Will) Teach you the king you know you
(Not) "God's son" across the belly
(Lose) He prove I lost already

Y'all nikkas deal with emotions like bytches
What's sad is he loves me 'cause I'm his brother
I traded my soul for riches
His child, he watched me grow up to be famous
And now he smiles like a proud dad, watching his only son that made it
I seem to be only concerned with dissing women
Was I abused as a child, scared to smile, they called me ugly?
Well life is hard, hug him, don't reject him
Or make records to disrespect him, blatant or indirectly
In '88 I was getting chased through my building
Calling his crib and he ain't even give me his numbers
All he did was give me a style for me to run with
Smiling in his face, glad to break bread with the god
Wearing Jaz chains, no TECs, no cash, no cars
No jail bars Jigga, no pies, no case
Just Hawaiian shirts, hanging with little Chase
I'm a fan, a phony, a fake, a p*ssy, a Stan
He still whip my ass, I'm thirty-six in a karate class?
I'ma Tae-bo hoe, trying to work it out, I'm tryna' get brolic?
Ask him if he's trying to kick knowledge
Nah, he's trying to kick the shyt I need to learn though
That ether, that shyt that make my soul burn slow
Is he Dame Diddy, Dame Daddy or Dame Dummy?
Oh, I get it, I'm Biggie and he's Puffy
Rocafella died of AIDS, that was the end of his chapter
And that's the guy I chose to name my company after?
Put it together, he rocks hoes, I rock fellas
And now I try to take his spot, fellas?
Philly's hot rock fellas, put me in a dry spot, fellas
In a pine box with nine shots from his Glock, fellas
Foxy got me hot 'cause I kept my face in her puss
What you think, I'm getting girls now 'cause of my looks?
Ne-gro please
No mustache having, with whiskers like a rat
Compared to Beans I'm wack
And my man stabbed Un and made me take the blame
I'm ass, went from Jaz to hanging with Caine, to Herb, to Big
And, Eminem murdered me on my own shyt
I'ma a dikk-riding fagot, I love the attention
Queens nikkas run my nikkas, ask Russell Simmons
Ha, R-O-C get gunned up and clapped quick
J.J. Evans get gunned up and clapped quick
My whole damn record label gunned up and clapped quick
Shaun Carter to Jay-Z, damn I'm on Jaz dikk
So little shorty's getting gunned up and clapped quick
How much of Biggie's rhymes is goin' come out my fat lips?
Wanted to be on every last one of his classics
I pop shyt, apologize, nikka, just ask Kiss

:huhldup:
Click to expand...
Post of the year:russ:
 
Last edited:
J

JustCKing

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NULL
I don't see how AI is any different than blends or those fake collaborations that used to be on Napster.
 
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