"Sibling Rivalry" lyrics
(feat. Mic Boyd)
Oh here we go again, Mic's pissed off
Rhyme for a year, think he's all Hip-Hop
Well excuse me please, Mr. 10-Year-Veteran
It looks like the fame might be going to your head again
Look: I've had it up to here, always talking me down
Bossing me around, scared I'm taking your crown?
Not even in the slightest
Yeah, we'll see
Man, you wouldn't write shit if it wasn't for me
You would have no CDs, no free beats, no trips
You ain't grateful for none of that shit
Wait, run it back kid, you ain't paid me a buck
Why you think I never ever had money for that stuff?
'Cause you can't keep a job
Man, neither can you
I left home in '98. Mom, pa's still your crew
Fuck it: I'll get personal, put it in perspective
You grew up with a silver spoon, never learned a lesson
Everything was handed to you
That wasn't my choice, mom and dad only had enough
Money to put in one boy
And that's me: more skilled, more sick, more ill
More spit, more flow, let's go, no joke
No, bro. Let me tell them how it really is:
I'm more ill, more balanced, more real and more talented
We constantly have these rivalries
We constantly have these rivalries
We constantly have these rivalries
We constantly have these rivalries
We constantly have these rivalries
Okay, enough with the singer-man, I thought you were a MC
Yeah, I spit raw and sing a smooth melody
I'm multi-talented, you stick to the basics
You find what you're good at and never ever change it
Yeah I found what I'm good at, I say I got a formula
Still keepin' fresh, not the same old boring stuff
Every day you call, though
"Bro, you're the sickest! Just give me a beat, man
Come on! I'll fuckin' rip it!"
Some things never change
Yeah I'm still getting hand-downs, just got my first pair of Hammer pants now
You a second-rate rapper
What, gettin' bitter 'cause I rhymed for a year and your boys think I'm better?
Oh, I'll give you credit — you can rhyme
But you only just started and already in your prime
You're only going down while I'm slowly going up
Gettin' higher in this game while you only smokin' up
Fuck you!
Fuck you!
Bitch, I've had it with your attitude
Yeah, well, I'm your brother so really, what can you do?
You're still gonna give me beats for free
You're right, I hope you blow out, just sign to Half-Life!
And that's me: more skilled, more sick, more ill
More spit, more flow, let's go, no joke
No, bro, let me tell them how it really is:
I'm more ill, more balanced, more real and more talented
We constantly have these rivalries
We constantly have these rivalries
We constantly have these rivalries
We constantly have these rivalries
We constantly have these rivalries
Rhyme for a year, think he's all Hip-Hop
Well excuse me please, Mr. 10-Year-Veteran
It looks like the fame might be going to your head again
Look: I've had it up to here, always talking me down
Bossing me around, scared I'm taking your crown?
Not even in the slightest
Yeah, we'll see
Man, you wouldn't write shit if it wasn't for me
You would have no CDs, no free beats, no trips
You ain't grateful for none of that shit
Wait, run it back kid, you ain't paid me a buck
Why you think I never ever had money for that stuff?
'Cause you can't keep a job
Man, neither can you
I left home in '98. Mom, pa's still your crew
Fuck it: I'll get personal, put it in perspective
You grew up with a silver spoon, never learned a lesson
Everything was handed to you
That wasn't my choice, mom and dad only had enough
Money to put in one boy
And that's me: more skilled, more sick, more ill
More spit, more flow, let's go, no joke
No, bro. Let me tell them how it really is:
I'm more ill, more balanced, more real and more talented
We constantly have these rivalries
We constantly have these rivalries
We constantly have these rivalries
We constantly have these rivalries
We constantly have these rivalries
Okay, enough with the singer-man, I thought you were a MC
Yeah, I spit raw and sing a smooth melody
I'm multi-talented, you stick to the basics
You find what you're good at and never ever change it
Yeah I found what I'm good at, I say I got a formula
Still keepin' fresh, not the same old boring stuff
Every day you call, though
"Bro, you're the sickest! Just give me a beat, man
Come on! I'll fuckin' rip it!"
Some things never change
Yeah I'm still getting hand-downs, just got my first pair of Hammer pants now
You a second-rate rapper
What, gettin' bitter 'cause I rhymed for a year and your boys think I'm better?
Oh, I'll give you credit — you can rhyme
But you only just started and already in your prime
You're only going down while I'm slowly going up
Gettin' higher in this game while you only smokin' up
Fuck you!
Fuck you!
Bitch, I've had it with your attitude
Yeah, well, I'm your brother so really, what can you do?
You're still gonna give me beats for free
You're right, I hope you blow out, just sign to Half-Life!
And that's me: more skilled, more sick, more ill
More spit, more flow, let's go, no joke
No, bro, let me tell them how it really is:
I'm more ill, more balanced, more real and more talented
We constantly have these rivalries
We constantly have these rivalries
We constantly have these rivalries
We constantly have these rivalries
We constantly have these rivalries
