DJ Hoppa
Rubble
[Intro:]
K-K-Kato on the track, bitch

[Verse 1: Godemis]
Whatever happened to the MC
Times done changed for the MC
And if he rap, I know he gotta be buzzed
If you don't know somebody who rap
You know somebody who does
It's prob'ly one of your cousins or dude up the block
Dropped a couple of albums or moved up a notch
Swallow it up or I don't slack on writing
Commence to eating motherfuckers like Attack on Titan is real
I see you headed for your doom, interscope and
These lesser n***as searching for the moon in the ocean
My third eye's open, inner vision in 3D
It's killer city, Missouri murdering 'em on GP
So fuck 'em all with a condom and I'm a nympho
This ain't no conversation, no common knowledge, no info
I'm going in and it don't
Matter who get offended, this shit is premeditated
So if I said it, I meant it

[Interlude]
... you've been hidin' it
It's like, bro nah, if you read the credits of the fuckin' album
It's all right there, yeah
It's in fact not hidin' at all
So there's another whole thing too
[?] guy [?] say I'm not puttin' any credits [?]
That's what I thought too
Does he want that credit? What's that conversation like
[?] that's [?]
Dude, what [?] your conversation
[Verse 2: Ubiquitous]
I dropped in just to say what up
Hip hop chuckled to itself then created us
Laugh now but y'all dogs better rabie up
'Cause on a real, ball hogs never made us much
My group precipitates skill, shade by the deal
Fools forget to play still chasing dollar bills
I'm feeling great fail if you cruising it's a race
You hit the brakes bail if you knew what it would take
To make sales I run up on the state sales
My face pale, made a come up on some hate mail
It's all subtle boy, I hope you enjoy the rebuttal
Where with the trouble I just shrug when I point to the rubble
My coin stack, prepare the appointed task
They avoided the facts, I'm disappointed but back buoyant
I let him know that that soylent is rap poison
Comma for selling Belladonna I'm tellin' mama

[Interlude]
Is he like writin' his raps or is he, like, writin' his choruses or like... you know what I mean? Because you know that a lot of these rappers get choruses from other locations
Whatever they comin' up with... I mean they writin' the choruses is a different story
Ok
You talkin' about the bars
Yeah, writin' the bars and then people say "Damn, dude got bars" but these are not really your bars
It's not your bars
It's not your bars, get the bars back
[Verse 3: Rittz]
Bring it right back
This morning I'ma need a night cap
MCs be bugging me I need a fly trap
I'm fly as fuck, I look at you and see a piece of white trash
That got you heated, my bad
If I can beat him scrapping, I'ma stab him, leave a wide gash
They leak and he gon' need a dry rag
An ice pack, an eye patch, a life raft
I drown him in a pool of blood
I'm truly underground, I write my rhymes inside a mine shaft
Frame by frame I stutter the game, it's like I seen a time lapse
And every lake is just as bad, I can't look past the traffic jam
Test the rappers, they don't ever pass the class exam
Blazing like I lit a match and had a can of gas in hand
You make me mad on stage, I'll backhand a bitch like Afroman
Snap a branch in half and discipline you like a kid again
We stomping basic bitches, need some titties and an ass implant
Cold blooded like I'm trapped beneath an avalanche
Keep bragging 'bout your record deal, I'll jack you for your cash advance, bitch

[Outro]
I let 'em know
I'm fly as fuck
I see you headed for your doom
Backhand a bitch like Afroman
My- My- My coin stacked
Whatever happened to the MC
My crew precipitates skill
Whatever happened to the MC
Keep bragging 'bout your record deal, I'll jack you for your cash advance, bitch
You can't be the best emcee if somebody else is writing your raps