7l Esoteric Mercy Killing Lyrics

Mercy Killing Lyrics

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You can find me in the club where the huns at



Muthafuck that trucker hat hug-rap



I know who I am, who I be, who I always was



Not a rapper that would dis another just to start a buzz



You should know that, just let the beef go away



How many weathermen do I have to slay



El-P give that mouth a rest



Go and get yourself in shape give that couch a rest



I sent you a demo in 94 with straight original shit



No scientifical shit



And you cats talk about it like it's still in your whip



If you're large as you say, why you still sweating Shay?



Pissed cuz I reminisce about boom-bap



You just made cuz you make your money off nerd-rap



And can never change that, the fact you make soft shit



Embarassed so you gotta remind us about the profit



Sorry that I study from the blueprint



And don't associate with your nerd-rap movement



"Independently I sold..." man, get over yourself



Every interview I read it's like your blowing yourself



Putting doe on your shelf? Stop hoeing yourself



You're a herb, look at you, you know it yourself!



I showed you love from day one and I kept on



But now you upset because your boys got stepped on



If you were as smart as you claim to be



And had beef muthafucker you should've came to me



But no, write a dis, hope you won't get caught



Cuz you know I never peep shit from Gaysop Rock



Listen, I liked Funcrusher that was that



But then you heard Dr. Octagon and never looked back



"Blue Flowwwers" Allow me flex my true powers



And send this fucking hobbit back to the two towers



..............No I'm not stopping yet



Bars of Death ain't done it ain't dropping yet



I got jokes about your face believe me



But dissing you because of your looks is too easy



You can't help that you a Keebler elf, "Mr. Be Yourself"



You should see yourself



I saw that DVD man I can't understand



Why you find it so hard to shake a fan's hand



These are the cats that love you when you do shit



And actually think the stuff you make is music



But this is hip-hop kid don't confuse it



With herbs trying to hard to make "that new shit"



Bitching about doing a show for short change is fine



But taping it is assinine



Then releasing it? That's an ego trip



Get off your own dick, that's some ego shit (fuck outta here)



Revolution ain't them beats you record



Sounding like my girl's cat when it walks across my keyboard



You ain't different, you just can't work your equipment



Now don't come back with that run-on sentence rap



Spit it slow, so I can understand you, yo



Went from Co-Flow to no flow, rushing your rhymes







No punchlines, just a bunch of punched in lines



Bed-wetter, you as hip-hop as Eddie Vetter



If you a true b-boy, explain that mohawk and the Fred Perry sweater



That look is priceless!



Now who's the muthafucker with the identity crisis?







You ain't mad at me dog, you mad at what you've become







(part 2)







Banned from New York? Muthafucka don't sleep



I got a freak in each borough, I was there last week



You cancelling shows in Boston, acting shook



Say you from Harlem, telling me to come to Red Hook



You wanna rep Brooklyn? Ain't no Biggie in you



Fat sloppy fuck sound like Winnie the Pooh



Plus dwelling on this beef is a bad decision



The only fight you ever had is with your own metabolism



Making them mixtapes, mainstream coverband



Wannabe G-Unit but sold like 3 units? Damn!



Baby Huey talks like he had a stroke



I remember when he told me "Be Alert" was sooo dope



You was a fan home soaking the bed



See when I was eating rappers you was eating loaves of bread



A big oaf with dreads and a clammy handshake



Now you making records that even your fans hate



I'll treat you like a Taun-Taun, and slash your flesh



And give New York's homeless a place to rest



It ain't about the Weathermen, it's whether or not your men



Whether or not your femme, Vast drop and gimme 10



Know your limits, Grimace, you can't finish



All out of shape fishing for beef but out of bait



Sherman Klump's in a writing slump no lie



Nutty Proffessor, minus the sweater and bow tie



Come take my lotto? Man, that's a waste



With that tape, all you really robbing is your fan base



You be claiming you a man but got big saggy tits



Coppin all your sweaters from a store for fat chicks



"If this was 86..." man if this was 86



You'd be sitting in baby shit, crying for some cake and shit



"Vast is deep!" You kids don't understand



Anyone can sound deep to an overzealous fan



So protect that neck Shrek, before I strike again



You and El-P = Lenny and George from Mice & Men



The shit is getting old but the beef is fun



It's like, 5 on 1 I got you fuckers on the run



So get your facts straight, stop running your mouths



I keep this mic with me, dog come and get me