[Verse]
Wait, hold up
Let me get this J rolled up
I’ll tell you motherfuckers what you gotta pay me for a verse
If you let me get the fuckin' payroll done
Y’all could offer your first born child
And I’d still bounce out like it's Girls Gone Wild
Style so killer that my words on bail
All my verbs in jail and my verse on trial
All about the bass, no treble
First place on the track, gold medal
See, I never get into a situation where he gotta choose
Never lose cause the Khan don’t settle
Y’all don’t move like your bikes won't pedal
Think you gon’ blow like your mics’ gunmetal
That shit seem like plantin' a damn seed
Leavin’ it and hopin’ that it might grow petals
Think you mad cold, but you tykes come gentle
'Til you get popped like a tight blood vessel
Y’all motherfuckers really going out of style
Like some cowboy boots with the rhinestone pebbles
Line game sharp like a limestone pyramid
Y’all act hard, but your rhymes don’t merit it
The facts are that your act starts played out
And you lack bars like a backyard playground
But I rap like a track star makes rounds
When I go faster than NASCAR greyhounds
Y’all burnouts are like racetrack flame-outs
Lookin' at me spit a like spacecraft came down
Y’all rusty with dumbed down bars out
Like parts found in a rundown car pound
My eight-track when it’s played back bar none
Gets the crowd revved like a Maybach start sound
I really feel like you rappers need guidance
Y’all rap ‘bout the same three items
Freestylin' 'bout weed, greed, violence
We don't need these from you, we need silence
Y’all say that my tracks need a damn hook
Fuck you! Why don’t y’all hacks read a damn book?
Y’all about as well-read as the self-help shelf
In a jail library cell in the backwoods
Fuck the goons and dudes who confusin'
Their YouTube views as a proof of some movement
All they do’s interviews and reviews
But there’s too few crews just improvin' their music
Y’all pro'bly like "Khan’s bein' cinematic"
I’m pro'bly like "Nah, see, I’m really mad"
I was taught to keep my head down, even when I’m at it
Then I see these cats gettin' green like a lily pad
All these dogs got a dot com blog
And a vlog, and a blah and a blah and a Twitter page
Doesn’t matter how much shit you got up on the Internet
Though, bitch, if you all never been on stage
See, this shit’s gettin’ pretty old
Some shitty-ass kid makes a video
With a shitty rap on a track that’s forgettable
Couple days pass, see him dance on The Ellen Show
To a damn crowd with some middle aged moms in it
Nearly puts me fit of rage watchin' it
Like they made it 'cause they rappin’ to celebrities
Someone tell me, though, what happened to integrity?

[Outro]
Ah!
Goddamn...