[Intro]

(Laughter)

I don't even know why I'm laughing

Ain't even got money in the bank

Still underground looking for that daylight

[Verse 1: Ray Jets]

How they go play Jets like cops and robbers

Stick em' up

Like 9-5's the only option

Saying give the rap a rest

Ironic how bars came out the pen

So led keeps breaking in my pad like a bailiff

Every time they hit me with a doubting statement

Lately

I'm insane in the membrane

Tryna' take me for an amateur

Gunslinging, malice and massacre pon' the camera

How they go stamp on me

With this 1st class delivery

Footprints of the industry

Kept

In the form of N-a-s

Hov and big figures that left

So I pack a punch

Chop you niggas if I get bored

Open these blinds for your eyes

Till you see light of course

You ain't much below

So you might as well head for it

No surprise that your mums mourning

Shook in my jungle

Two lines will make you quick pause it

Rewind

Bump my track for a 2nd time

No way you remembered anything past the 1st rhyme

The Thrilla in manila

Make the white girls squirt they vanilla

All I want is a stage

And some recognition of my ways in the picture

Description

D-double-O-R live in concert

Nigga

[Hook]

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

[Verse 2: Ray Jets]

Sitting at the back of the bus

Cos' I'm the black of the bunch

Practicing my rapping

I'm a addict like the fags to the butts

But frustrations all up in my brain cellular

I'm prone to failure

Cos' rains like a detergent to my verse

Washing on words I'm tryna emerge

Drip drop

I lose the plot it's like a curse

Blocking up the jot

It won't stop

Like the cops on King

Got me fired up like pots and things

I'm prone to sin

Almost off the rails

But still trained in the ways of poetic forte's

Leave legacies engraved in your dome for days

There like ooo

Who he be?

Ray Jets thick brows

With the goatee

But they still check him for I.D

That's why the chicks call me baby face

I don't vex

They wanna' baby me

Gladly suck chest

Put they vag closer to my celery

Fly coolie

But I'm far from featherweight

Kind of catchy ain't it

Make you meditate crazy with the words I be saying

Hmmmm

Face it

[Hook]

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

[Verse 3: Ray Jets]

No soul selling

We doing this the fairway

Swinging like the wife of a tiger

This pride of a lion is possibly liger

Knock the door

Hit record

These napalms set booths to light up

Watch producers bodies pile up

They want a taste

Lyrics amaze

Like where the minotaur

Gimme beats

I'll give you more

Already sick of staying under covers

Won't expose me to these guys, in the XL's highest column

Just gimme' the chance

I'm bound to drop them

Like dominoes getting The Rock's rock bottom

Now who the boss on top of your forum?

British kid can't spit?

Now who the hell be talking all of that foreign

Plain and simple

Ima' have to change my scribe for the sword more often

[Hook]

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap Blues

I got the Rap blues

I got the Rap blues

I got the Rap blues