187 (Response)
[Intro]
[Sample]
"—day you die—if you're one of the poor ones, you just gotta work hard"
[Verse 1]
My shit is laid out
Fuck that beef shit, that shit is played out
Why is it harder for peace over violence?
Niggas don't know The Art of War, we roll in silence
It always got to be that one nigga that's the loudest
That ain't gon' do no poppin' when it's time to be about it
Rah-rah-rah-rah, fuck outta here with that shit
You puttin' way too much passion into that wack shit
Put your dukes down nigga, we come in peace
With them AK-47's, we from the streets
Calm down, shhhh, you so emotional
I know where you're at in your career is such a low for you
I understand it, but understand this, my daddy taught me manners
So it's foreign to fly off the handle and talk to cameras
That shit is lame, lames we don't respect
We wonderin' why the fuck you so upset
We know the streets'll swallow you, look what that powder do
Look at you try to embody what's not really inside of you
I promise you, that if you chill now, in 5 years
I will not ride through the McDonald's drive thru and bother you
I'm here for fries, that's it, chicken nuggets
Give me some sweet and sour sauce too and quit your buggin'
I'm just above it, I'm too mature for this
It ain't smart to go to war for this
[Hook]
'Cause I'm a rider, I'm about that 187
'Cause I'm a rider, I'm about that 187
You not a rider, not about that 187
You not a rider
187, 187, 187, 187
187, 187, 187, 187
[Verse 2]
Got the illest flow because I flow it from my soul
You said yourself; you got The Greatest Story Never Told
These niggas got the balls to say that I can't write no record
But them plaques on my wall say that y'all should read the credits
R dot Montgomery, ghostwriter, and for the right price?
Y'all know the rest, get your dough, biters
Y'all goin' left, get your M.O. in check
Later with them vendettas, handle your liquor better
Let's play some tennis, go back and forth, who winnin'?
You will give into a Koch deal away from *finished*
Fuck outta here with that, step your bars up
Your shit is garbage, what, you tryin' to kick knowledge? Be honest
Step your cars up, that little Benz you know is lame
I'd rather ride in a remote control Soulja Boy chain
I'm so insane, I flow with open flame
Note to self: leave him floatin' if he spoke your name
That's why I don't bother nobody
I catch a body all alone cause I don't ride with nobody
Niggas figures been put on Jenny Craig
Look what the prison built, you big up top with skinny legs
C'mon Johnny Bravo, you fuckin' with the whole Detroit, chill out
Them S.O.B.s without the swing, and easy get out
I'm quick to stick the clip in, just ask my nigga Crooked
Joey Budden got you niggas trippin'
[Hook]
'Cause I'm a rider, I'm about that 187
'Cause I'm a rider, I'm about that 187
You not a rider, not about that 187
You not a rider
187, 187, 187, 187
187, 187, 187, 187
[Outro: Royce Da 5'9" + Sample]
I got a muh'fuckin' Gucci beard—with a Prada' mustache
A muh'fuckin' Louis Vuitton chest hair
I got Vizene tears, nigga, aheheha
I got a muh'fuckin' platinum foot—with diamond toenails, nigga, hahahuh
Fuck you talkin' 'bout?
And you? You got a motherfuckin' dog-butt—with bitch-tits
Bar Exam 3, Slaughterhouse
I got a muh'fuckin' crib, made out of silicone titties
(The most interestin' man in the world!)
I got a Coogi bathroom—made out of Biggie Smalls' sweater, nigga
I got a specially made Kangol—made out of LL Cool J chapstick, nigga, hahha
I'm so interestin', haha
You lil' fruit!
I got motherfuckin' Cartier pubic-hair!
I got remote-control boxers—with—hahahahaha!
(The most interestin' man in the world!)
"He has amassed an incredibly large de—"