Rapper Gone Bad

[VERSE 1]

I'm a young gifted and black mack, rap sweet like candy yams

And I make you put your fist up to your mouth and say, "Goddamn!"

Boy, I got heat, flame-o, pull a mic, liquid draino

Verbal volcano, they love me, cause they know

I'm cut from the cloth that real men are made of

Bitches get sprayed up with clips of this Bay love

Attackin you with vernacular, dialect and lingo

The Rapper Gone Bad, boy, peep the first single

Bounce and shake what your mammy gave you

It's the drapers, can you feel it? Nothin can save you

>From the dapper rapper who stay fitted like a mannequin

Hoes see me in the traffic and say, "Girl, there go that man again"

I'm fabulicious, game nutricious

Break bitches like dishes and drink like them fishes

Boy, put some of that yukon jack in the bag

And come fuck with yo partner, the rapper gone bad

(Rapper gone bad)

(Ra-ra-ra-ra-rap)

(Baaad)

[VERSE 2]

I'm a old schooler like Grandmaster and the 5 that was Furious

Bitches goin delirious even though it ain't that serious

You're curious? Well, listen to these lyricals

Them suckers tryin to knock this, it's gonna take a miracle

I'm seasoned with the game that o.g.'s told me

Got laced like Luke did by Obi Won Kenobi

Or Yoda, hold a, mic in my right hand

And when I'm sleep you know I keep a fat strap in my nightstand

I strike men, my height, man, is l-o-double d

I see us after the show at the hotel Double Tree

Cool, calm and collected, but sometimes I get mean

Cause suckers sick of the scene like they Jack and i'm the Green

Giant, defiant, bitches get dealt with quick

Can't be on this ball team unless you wanna help get grits

Let's get rich, is what I tell em, sell em dreams like horoscopes

They try to fight the feeling, but it's hard to ignore your folks

Mac D with the r connected to the e (me)

Might be at the bar drinkin Hennessy

In between the sheets I'm a freak and a cold piece of work

My puddy over her body like Johnny, Keith and Levert

(Rapper gone bad)

(Ra-ra-ra-ra-rap)

(Baaad)

[VERSE 3]

A thug like 2pac, wanna mack like Too $hort

Smoke punks like Newports, get drunk off 2 quarts

Bendin corners in somethin ninety-new

Lookin real ragoon on my way to see Chuey

Boy, I'm on the air gettin heavy rotation

But I'm still a player with a Chevy on Daytons

I'm hi-po, and the five-o really can't stand me

Got posse, Flowmasters and Shift, King and Tranny

Chirpin every time I shift gears

In that '95 Impala with them gold-dipped gears

Put some of that 151 in the bag

Come fuck with yo partner, the rapper gone bad

(Rapper gone bad)

(Ra-ra-ra-ra-rap)

(Baaad)