I made a few adjustments to Fa-Q's lyrics.
Wasn't ready to be no millionaire, I was ill-prepared
I was prepared to be ill, though, the skill was there
From the beginning, it wasn't 'bout the ends
It was 'bout bustin' raps and standin' for somethin'
Fucking acronym
Cut the fuckin' act like you're happy, I'm fuckin' back again
With another anthem, why stop when it doesn't have to end?
It ain't over 'til I say it's over - enough when I say enough
Throw me to them wolves and close the gate up
I'm afraid of what'll happen to them wolves
When the thought of being thrown into an alligator pit, I salivated it
Raise your hands up like it's 12 noon
Nah, homie, hold them bitches straighter up
Wait until you dislocate a rotator cuff
Came above, came to ruffle feathers
Nah, egos, I ain't deflatin' 'em
Last chance to make this whole stadium erupt
I can see the finish line with each line that I finish,
I am so close to my goals,
I can almost pole vault over the goal post,
An' if I don't got enough in the tank, maybe I can just siphon enough,
To fill up this last can, man will I survive in this climate or what,
They said I was washed up and out a blood bath,
I'm not a rapper, I'm an adapter, I can adjust,
Plus, I can just walk up to a mic and bust,
So floors open if you'd like to discuss,
Top 5 in this muthafucka, and if I don't make the cut,
What like I give a fuck?
I'll light this bitch up like I'm driving a truck,
Through the side hit a bump,
0-60 hop in it n gun it like G-unit without the hyphen,
I'm hypin 'em up,
and if there should ever come a time where my life's in a rut,
And I look like I might just give up, (Eh) might have been stuck,
Bowing out but I aint taking a bow,
I'm stabbing myself with a fucking knife in the gut,
While I'm wiping my butt,
'Cause I just shitted on the mic,
And I like getting cut,
and I get excited at the sight of my blood,
You're in fight with a nut,
Cause Ima fight til I die or win,
Biting the dust, it'll just make me angrier,
Wait, let me remind you of what got me this far,
Picture me quitting, now draw a circle around it and put a line through it, slut
It's survival of what?
So get your ideas, stack your ammo
But don't come unless you come to battle, jump in the saddle
This is it, it's what you eat, sleep, piss and shit
Lift, breathe, your whole existence just consists of this
Refuse to quit, fuse is lit, can't diffuse the wick
I don't do this music shit I lose my shit
Ain't got shit to lose, it's the moment of truth
It's all I know how to do
As soon as I get thrown in the booth, I spit
But my respect is overdue
I'm showin' you the flow no one do
Cause I don't own no diploma for school, I quit!
So there's nothing for me to fall back on,
I know no other traits
So you'd better trade your fuckin' mikes in for some toolboxes
Cause you'll never take my pride from me
It'll have to be pried for me
So pull out your pliers and your screwdrivers
But I want you to doubt me,
I don't want you to be-lieve,
Cause this is something that I must use, to suc-ceed,
And if you don't like me then fuck-you,
Self-e-steem, must be fuckin' shootin' through the roof,
cause trust me,
My skin is too thick and bulletproof to touch me
I can see why the fuck I dis-gust you,
I must be allergic to failure, cause every time I come close to it,
I just sneeze but I just go a-choo, then a-CHIEVE