Keep tryin to keep it real by keepin it raw
While half of yall still be keepin it flaw
And all the real heads scream Fuck hip hop!
Until this mediocre bullshit stops
Drug fiends let me show you the route
Whos that motherfucker still keepin the dope in the house?
Its Mota mouth. who? its Mota mouth baby, its Mota mouth
Whenever I write, I put myself out of place from other cats
So it dont sound like another brothers rap
I smother tracks with raw shit, niggas arent able to bite
What I bring to the table is height
Then I easily superceed, niggas need what I got
Reason Im hot, theres no other raw season of pot
While most motherfuckers follow the guidelines and hit by 101
Jakki the Mota mouth decides to have fun
Not following rules, swallowing crews
Son I toss cats off the stage, often I slay their soft raps
To all you fake dictionary MCs, get off that
Half of yall dont understand your own rhymes and soft batch
They straight at open mics, we put them out on the street
Take away their dope beat, let em rhyme and they weak
And the mic can be a decieving device
Muffle your rhymes so they aint clear and concise
Have niggas thinking you nice
With battle Ill crack all your gear and all your wack raps
You cant be saved by your babbling or your backpack
Doing it for the love is great but you fake
And putting your shit out is a mistake nobody wants to make
Keep tryin to keep it real by keepin it raw
While half of yall still be keepin it flaw
And all the real heads scream Fuck hip hop!
Until this mediocre bullshit stops
Drug fiends let me show you the route
Whos that motherfucker still keepin the dope in the house?
Its Mota mouth. who? its Mota mouth baby, its Mota mouth
Hate when I go to open mics and I see everybody clapping
For some clown they dont understand
Yet everybody acting like he dope because they believe hes hip hop
Yall convincing me that most of yall are brainwashed
Dug in old hip-hop history
Some cats are crap without their tracks cause they weak
I wish a nigga would say he listen to me for the beats
Some got the nerve to say they dope when they spit
When even they family got a tape and they wont open the shit
I got a big mouth and I aint scared to use it
One persons key style allows everyone to abuse it
So what the fuckk is your definition of underground?
Depressing beats and bleak cats who love the sound
Well I aint part of that, Im tired of rappers garbage
Im the part of the underground who only feels the raw shit
And I can take a nigga out regardless
You can bring your hardest artists and Ill make em heartless
Some say they lyrically this, or lyrically that
Throwing lyrical in every rap and they lyrically wack
And many cats rhyme over tracks nobody fiends for
Dont fuck around with me, if you can only fuck with keyboards
Just cause lazy niggas use recognisable material
Dont mean the dope samples are not original
Cause a producer with skill can lace tracks
Keyboard beats arent that original, lets face facts
That shit was overused in the G-funk era
Dont give me that excuse, real MCs want better
You rhyme over enough shit, most get away with murder
Like kids who think they words rhyme cause they the suffix
Must bitch niggas be fragile with facts
You bragging bout who you battled, but who you battled was crap
What you angry for, and acting all tense
If you innocent be cool, only the guiltys catching offense
Keep tryin to keep it real by keepin it raw
While half of yall still be keepin it flaw
And all the real heads scream Fuck hip hop!
Until this mediocre bullshit stops
Drug fiends let me show you the route
Whos that motherfucker still keepin the dope in the house?
Its Mota mouth. who? its Mota mouth baby, its Mota mouth