Cant Outrap Me - Lord Superb

Let me tell these niggas how I feel

Aiyo, it ain’t no that, that can outrap me, man

Niggas don’t do it like I do this shit, man

For real, I do it, man, I do it for me

Now I do it for Stack Bundles, I do it for the Riot

Far Rock America, we in the muthafucking building

Ya’ll niggas hear me?

Alright, listen

Bulletproof the muthafucking booth, I’m bout to go in, listen

Niggas wanna shoot me up, cuz I got a living room

In my coupe, plus the roof is cut

Even the ashtrays got wood on 'em

I’m the nicest nigga alive, I put my hood on it

Don’t rock my bitch, put my kid on it

I’mma ride til I die, die cuz I live for it

Tell my soldiers bubble the wet, while I’m out in Iraq

Try to find us an oil connect

Haters can’t touch us, no, I just took

Everything we had, copped some Russian dough

Hustlers said I’m on some real bullshit, cuz I got the

Fiends in the hood calling the block Little Bushwick

It’s big whips now, cuz it’s big flips now

Was a Toys R Us kid, I’m a big kid now

When you see me riding clean, with the dope fiend lean

Know soon as I came home, I got dope fiend green

That’s green from the dope fiends, I ain’t sniffing

I did, six on my head, I ain’t snitching

My Riot Squad niggas is the best hustlers

Telling all ya’ll little scrappies, we some head bustas

Til Stack call, buy all the chips

Make it hot like ya’ll in Miami with minks

Soon as I come home, I’m bringing my gun home

Watch it pop off, I’mma blow the industry top off

I don’t need Jacob to get my rocks off

Perb is not soft, Perb is hot sauce, muthafuckas

I’m hot sauce, I’m hot sauce, nigga

I’m hot sauce, listen, listen

When you hear the word 'hustler', think of the kid

Rock star, got a pot stove and sink in my whip

Cot that Crouching Tiger coke, think of the flip

Had to take it off the boat, it was sinking the ship

I be looking for a reason to pimp, watch that

Even Michael Jackson think with his dick

So if, Jada’s the champ, let him know the boss is here

I handle more boy and girl than foster care

The twenty ten Porsche is here, Jack Frost is here

Who give a fuck about your earrings, I shoot off your ears

Truck got a little dents in it, few off this year

All we do is close deals, and make offers here

Ramada music, the booth is like room service

A million course meals, E pills, and record deals

Grind all that up front money, fuck record sales

Thousand dollar leather belt, both feet Picasso

Had the jewelry and the clothes, I’m looking rich like an oil painting

Party at the house on the hills

Plus the car I drive look like 50 crib on wheels

G’d up, the feet cost six hundred

My clothes prices is high like they get blunted

I dress like I’m a star, but, I am

As for my jewels, they sent my watch in an armored car

Niggas on the corner, dope prices getting steep

He hit my shit twice, I thought he was sleep

Came up out his knob, wiped his slob

Licked the paper, gave that shit a blowjob

Said damn that shit is hard, where you get it from, God?

I re-up from the ground, I get it from God

There’s enough to go around, you can get it tomorrow

What you call that shit, Perb?

Bolivian Tar

We got it for ya’ll niggas, man

Meet me by Ralph’s, nigga

Bolivian Tar