[Intro: The Mad Rapper]
Ayo Fred
This, is, Hip, Hop!

[Verse 1: Fred The Godson]
Uh, I heard you tryin' to stack God, dough
Shit, I get Black Rob, Whoa!
It's either that or I clap y'all
N***as need Viagra to act hard, haha (you soft!)
Bought a Range before the fame, you saw the chain
Gold on my mind now
Notre Dame, you saw the game (touchdown!)
They spit bars, son, rarely
MTV, I'm in different cars son daily (haha)
I lift barbells to hold the hammer steady
I root for the money, big fan of fetti
I'm too live, get the band already
I'm better than mad rappers, Angelettie (woo!)
I shoot like Corey Fisher and Maggette
Big n***a shit, swordfish and spaghetti, haha
I get right with it
Hip-hop for life, I'm too nice with it

[Interlude: The Mad Rapper]
Oh my God, enough with the fat n***as already
Jesus, and n***a got the nerves to have braids
Come on man, damn
Alright he spit a little bars, know what I'm sayin'
But who gon' play this?
This is hip-hop, (?)
[Verse 2: Fred The Godson]
I brainstorm to this music shit
Think Black Thoughts to get to the Root of it (woo!)
If I ain't nice
N***a, then who can spit?
Bet you now they don't sleep, Fred Krueger shit (nightmares)
Battle you, I come through ya block
Cruise in the back of a yellow cab, Collateral (haha)
Yeah, shells in the mag, very compatible
Comedy show, for bein funny I'ma clap at you (clap, clap..)
They admire my mind and intellect
Guess it's 'cause of my punchlines on the internet (uh-huh)
Funny thing is that most ain't ever get it yet
They like Fred won't let us, vinaigrette (salad n***as)
You fin to die
Pinocchio backwards, the snub nose come out then you lie
My pen and I, they can't identify
Fraction of my flow, can't break it down, simplify

[Interlude: The Mad Rapper]
Ayo, ayo, this is why hip-hop pisses me off
Know what I'm sayin'
We just gon' let a n***a name, Fred in the game
Know what I'm sayin', that's it
He probably got his mans with him, what
Bob, Steve, Dick and Arthur (hahaha)
[Verse 3: Fred The Godson]
You can't pump here
You gon' have to pay, Donald Trump hair
Get it? Trump hair, toupee
I'm not the one to play
But we can battle without Kool Moe to Cool J (let's go)
I rap it better, in patent leathers, the cool greys
Listenin' to old school, the new school just fuel rage (woo!)
I'm at stage with a stage as my podium
Jesus, black rhodium, they salty, sodium
You can't fault me, I'm just tryin' to flow to 'em
The last livin' lyricist, lately is why they go to him (oouu!)
You can't blame him, money and fame then
Watch my brother cop, Everybody Loves Raymond
These is simplest terms, damn near in layman
Cadillac truck, white center, Chris Kaman
Cuban link and a brick that's how I came in
Why you mad rapper? Hahaha

[Outro: The Mad Rapper]
Tell 'em why you mad son
Yeah I can tell that y'all mad, for real
It ain't hard to tell man, for real
The guy done spittin'
This that straight hip-hop, this that hard hip-hop
Know what I'm sayin', wait, wait wait
We not playin', for real