Third Degree Lyrics

(Static)

Yo I could give a fuck about the rules, give a fuck about your jewels

Give a fuck about your claims of being insurmountable

Don’t wanna see the casualties of when I battle dudes

Walk in with that New York I don’t give a fuck attitude

Pissed off rapper I don’t get enough gratitude

Rhymes are horrific and they’ll scare the fuck out of you

I’m high as hell I’m at a cloud height altitude

Flying through the sky with a birds eye mountain view

I’m strictly business so don’t bother me with stupid shit

I’m a lunatic, dressing bluer than a Hoova Crip

Load the rugger clips, then I’ll steady aim and shoot the shit

I’m a hooligan, a Big Daddy Kane duplicate

Zoo was chuggin’ brews chewing through huge vicodins

I was smoking reefer eatin’ Blues Clues Vitamins

Old school style with some new school type of shit

Static on the track is like the Juice Crew cypherin’

I make myself at home in burial sites

And get higher than a stewardess on aerial flights, yeah

We never stressin’ over stereotypes

We stressin’ Sony, Panasonic, you know stereo types, uh

I rock baggy jeans, designer style fitteds

So sit back retire and admire my exquisite

Comprised rhyme style of these lines that I’ve written

My chinky eyes wide alright I’m high and I admit it

Late night on the Bronx streets you can find me

40 in my hand and beside me a dime piece

My flow’s godly, whack rappers despise me

This shit’s grimy, pizza grease on my rhyme sheets, uh

(Chorus)

I’ve had enough okays and okey dokes

From these phonies rockin’ fairy boy sandals with their open toes

Your rap group’s a bunch of hopeless souls

You think your flow is dope but homie no you ain’t even remotely close

Nope buddy no you ain’t even remotely close

So quit rappin’ quit yappin’ quit smokin’ boges

Oh you actually think your flow is dope?

Well nope homie no little buddy you ain’t even remotely close

(Zoo)

My flow’s tougher than the south side of Chicago

As I lay down golden bars like the road to Eldorado

My hash from Maraca, Miami to New York, Carlos Delgado

My powder rocky, mountains in Colorado

Shout out to the homie Coldanato

Buy the ticket, take the ride, yeah now that’s our fucking motto

I lived in west Philly a few years back

Within three months my apartment flipped to a trap

We were both bus all-stars of packing two in the briefcase

H.O.P.E. bracelet, golden charm, and a keepsake

If only I could learn eat, suck, and dream

I need a lot more than Sonar and a submarine

You don’t got any guts, besides the ones

Besides the ones you just dumped out of the dutch

My words are limitless, Bradley Cooper taking a pill

Syllable marksman, sniper shooter making a kill

I’m the skipper of the ship, Clooney in perfect storm

Check my birth certificate, see where the fuck I was born

So I laugh when cats say I ain’t gonna make it

I’m from New York, if it ain’t given to me I’ll fucking take it

Started at the bottom and I’m still here

While my career hides in blunt smoke and cold beer

In the gutter starring at the stars as they say

I’m spinning my tires, something’s gotta change

I don’t know where or when, but I sure do know why

I got a lot of dreams I don’t wanna die

I don’t know where or when, but I sure do know why

I got a lot of dreams I don’t wanna die

(Static Verse)

You’re probably thinking Static I can spit as hot as you do

If you can do it, I can do it, your style’s not unusual

You’re white and so you suck at rap, your rhymin’ style is doo doo

So I'mma leave you in the dust just so I can prove it to you

Words paint pictures watch me spew a few doodles

I’m chewing stems and caps till I have two huge pupils

My verse went over your head and my words flew through you

You must not know the members to the Juice Crew, do you?

I’m Mr. Magic, Marley Marl, Kool G Rap, and Masta Ace

DJ Polo, MC Shan, Biz Markie, Big Daddy Kane

Plus the Intelligent Hoodlum Tragedy Khadafi

Get your teeth knocked out like a casualty in hockey

So how can I respect you when your mind isn’t nourished

And when you’re in the booth your looking like an obvious tourist

People telling me that I ain’t gonna make it and I’ve had enough

What? Cause I ain’t tatted up and I ain’t rappin’ whack as fuck?

So talk a big game homie get built up

Cause even though you got more money than me you still suck

Imma die on this mic, spittin’ slurs in my hearse

So you know I’m an MC, my last words were a verse