Heath McNease
99 Problems (Shootin Bricks Ain’t One)
[Hook]
Problems with your jumper, I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems shooting bricks ain't one

[Verse 1]
I'm the bastard son of Slick Rick Rubin
Of Mike D, Ad-Rock, and Adam Yauch
And you's a fake rap cheeseball corn-rower
I rap in fisheye lens like Mr. Hornblower
See them lederhosen on? Well later hoes I'm gone
Darth Vader cross fader choking pawns
Better skip the battle homie, fake a broken arm
Cause this an open mic night, later open bar
Bars and humor, punchlines and levity
Most feared combo since Rakim and Eric B
Generic parodies, proletariat wage earners
Catching perilous lariats from a page turner
And it feels like a Steiner-line
Get that spine aligned by the time a piledriver rhyme arrives
The overarching theme of poet laureates
To keep a focused parchment with a theme for social consciousness
And I ain't here to speak on global arguments
Or wire jaws shut over stolen beats from parliament
It's Funakadelic or impeach the president
Honeydrippers, drum breaks, MPs, and heroin
It's a head scratcher
You win the bet after the best rapper pimp slapped you
Right out of your LensCrafters
That's for talking out the side of your mouth
Speech slurred, plus your four eyes divided by half
Alive mathematics make the circle complete
And a real MC never rehearses his frees
It's nursery themes and cursory streams
Certainly seem to be the mantra for your workers retreat
And I can sorta hear a bar by Soren Kierkegaard
If you label then you're negating what you really are
And what I really am, and what I really am
Is a disciple of MF Doom and Dill Es Plans
Got problems? I don't feel bad for you
99 problems and all of them are your attitude
It's that entitlement you roll with
I can't decide if it's your fault or the environment you're grown in
But it's my hustle over everything
You put your money over everything you'll struggle over anything
And if it's fool's gold call it that
With all this Boardwalk posturing, you're starting on Baltic Ave
[Hook]

[Verse 2]
I know your type
Crying when Nas performs One Mic
The type to try to bring your metaphors to gun fights
And the type to bring a pistol to a rap battle
Like Free World vs. B. Rabbit, the last chapter
You better corner Cheddar Bob to salvage you some better bars
Howard Zinn says how it's used indebts it all
Enlisted everyone, reps up in the Pentagon
And beg the rest affects their credit cards for telethons
Unforgiven world, and I don't fear the reaper
Bang on cowbell like Will Ferrell fill my sneakers
With a beatdown that's sponsored by Ajax
Fake Roland 808 kick tone with bass blast
That's when I put an end to this
Just enter your pen with this
Small market franchise won't win with this
New sponsors, new images
And brand new tax incentives for mad citizens max denizen
Sponsor PSAs beware of the Sandersons
I'm on Miami, man and Paul Thomas Anderson
And if an Old Testament plague hits my windshield
Y'all can all just watch me windmill
[Hook]