Death Of Rap (d.o.r) Lyrics - Lil' B

Fuck the Rap game! It's the death of the rap game 

Fuck the world. I'm God. Lil B 

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I'm militant, I'm very Based, I'm very proper 

And you don't want a war: you bring your troops 

I bring the chopper. Cause you niggas gay 

Yeah, you gay. You fuckin faggot 

And I'm ad with 30 rhymes I let them have it 

Battlefield with fast cash, you never grab it 

I post up with big blunts & Maseratis 

Rick Ross, The new whip is Big Body 

New Boys, you bitch-niggas I been Rocky 

Been cocky as y'all, I been active 

Ride on us, we get straps, no riff-raff 

Then you hold cars, we hold guns, Dodge Magnum 

It's tragic how he left with no comments 

Never settle for nigga-rich, I'm gonna rob em 

Catch me slippin with tiny pants, you think I'm nerdy? 

.45 got nice aim; I throw curvy 

My game: I run the court. I'm James Worthy 

From the block, I'm from the bricks like New Jersey 

I did court, I did jail, you can't hurt me 

Waterfront and fam nigga, it's West Berkeley 

And they ask where I been? I been rappin 

You drive cars? You fuckin fag, I been gassing 

In my eyes is blood, sweat and paint, cuz 

It's a shame that they don't know my name, Blood 

Lil B: I blow trees in all seasons 

Think I'm slippin? Find out! For no reason 

I met pain, I met God, I met death 

They all say that I'm Based God, and that's that 

Spit sick, I spit rhymes, I spit facts 

I ain't Drake, I ain't come in the game rich 

Fuck you if you don't feel my game, bitch 

Fuck you if you don't like my name, bitch 

BasedGod tell your girl, she could suck on it 

Put money on God and I bust on him 

Don't hate! I rocked out like Philly rock 

Wrists streetlight: a New York City block 

Beat your ass like a New York City cop 

Flipmode a Rah Digga, a mind-figure 

Fuck crackers, fuck hoes & fuck niggas 

Fuck her, fuck you & fuck me 

Lil B: I'm back bitch, I spit heat 

Post up, I sell dimes and fat zips 

Got crack: the cats come like catnip 

Don't trip: I never fold like napkins 

Real goon: I'm just "Robbin" like Baskins 

Anthrax a real boy like Osama 

Been played, I been beat, I love drama 

X-Man on defense, the street shit 

Riding up in deep tints & deep dish 

Never thought I'd come hard? I fooled you! 

Ben Watson I cursed you, it's Voodoo 

Been locked in, Mach-10s and Mac-10s 

Leave his head split & no Cochran to back him 

What? You niggas wish I'd fall of the Big League? 

At my lowest point, sacrifice to make bread 

XMR - call your bitch and get head 

She don't really like you: possum, she play dead 

Riding up top. Real niggas in big box 

Say the pack dead? bitch nigga the pack hot 

All these new niggas is my sons, the new boys 

Fuck you rap niggas: new guns and new toys 

Infrared beam make you dream the truth, boy 

Semi-auto rounds make you scream like Luke, boy 

Only other thing that I ain't did is die yet 

I don't like that mindset, nigga, it's the grind-set 

They way you watch this it could be a Timex 

You not a threat: my rap flow is bomb threats 

Stay in your house: I'm stampeding with death threats 

Think you hard: I bust a nut like good sex 

Think you real? Obey nigga, a hood vet 

Lil B: I'm BasedGod with no stress 

Incest, fuck your bruh and fuck your bitch 

No homo. fuck your life, I'm getting rich 

Mexican: I'm illegal, I move bricks 

No Love for dog hoes like New pits 

Doctor! I need help, the game's sick 

Lil B give a fuck about the fame, bitch! 

Photos