Sage Francis
I’m Not A Hater
[Verse]
I'm not a genius I just think a lot
And MCs they ain't nervous they just [?] a lot
And you're not an alcoholic you just drink a lot
I'm burning pages with my pen because my ink is hot
I've got twelve melted pens that end in my pocket protector
My man chilling inside a [?] that's my sector
We wrecked a instrumental
Every time a freestyle cypher [?] inside a temple
Get gentle and sentimental when I cuddle with freaks
Still I can't get my mind off all the trouble in the streets
MCs bite my rhymes while I struggle to eat
Mad DJs are clowns but they can't even juggle beats
Plus all they flare is nostrils
And all they know about the [?] is what they learned at the hospital
They got twelve punches but no technique in their arsenal
I seen one kid try to transport me, that shit looked impossible
It was the obstacle, where's your knowledge of hip hop
Microphone hogs get their lips knocked
Straight out of low cash of gut [?] just like prince rock
I'm about to spread my asscheeks on your ears and let my shit drop
Dank cans are leaving space on my hands
And I'm a dangerous man who brain scans
I try to not rock name brands
Your mom will wear Adidas till her death
Singing all day "I dream about Sage" under her breath
I wonder what's left of the underground heads
[?] heart in your hip hop to me it sounds dead
Base nine on your bed I heard your girl yell next
You ain't a pimp just because that bitch sells sex
But you ain't a player just because you wear a jersey
No fear no mercy
Scared MCs can't do nothing but swear and curse me
Swearin to hearse me but I don't know the pain
It's like menthol Novocaine for my clean and sober brain
I let the poppers pop and the breakers break
I represent B-Boys with the back pains and headaches
I make fakes run home just throw the one poem
Mixtape number twenty one DJ Unknown
I'm not from Houston I just rap a lot
And DJs names sell out they just play crap a lot
And you're not a bitch ass you just get smacked a lot
I just keep dissing you if you back up and not