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lirik lagu jacob price - i'm not marshall

[hook]
i’m not marshall mathers. i’m just a regular guy
but i still went and made an album
i made a few beats but i know that i’d be dope without one
so if you wanna run your mouth
then lemme see what you got for me to outrun

[verse 1]
what does it take to get fantastic track
7 years of producing and writing rap
this is how we afford it and tighten slack
keep it movin’ make it better like it’s crack
bakin’ soda mix it up and get it to master
we got the product you envy and that you’re after
bout to get a caldecott with only a chapter
children sayin’ i paint it gold like it’s laughter
sittin’ up in the rafters lookin at all the b-st-rd
kids that don’t got a grasp on how to make up a cl-ssic
sheeeit. i ain’t sure they’re ever gonna get it
when the clock strikes 12 cinderella gonna spit it
all of you mice men, listen up
you’re ridin’ on a pumpkin, not a truck
you think you’re onto somethin’, but you suck
and i bet you’re bummin’ cause i have been summoned
now look at us

[verse 2]
go head and make fun of me if you wanna
i gotta feelin’ that while you’re laughin’
that’s when it’s gonna creep up on ya
this n-gga know that he’s golden
and what he’s holdin onto
like the price of gold
if you hold it long enough it gets brought up
little itty bitty red hen
he always up in the kitchen spittin’ gettin it in
so you can take your digits and kick a stick
and prentend that you don’t get why
he took all the sh-t that wouldn’t have been if he
wouldn’t of thought to keep you out in rain
you dumb sh-t. tell me i’m not talented again
i don’t quit. meanin’ i take a break in the summer
i’ma teach you motherf-ckers just who you need to make fun of
look in the looking gl-ss
see the son of an -ss that thought he could ever p-ss
for somebody that can rap. how dare you!
how could you lie to yourself like that?
i don’t think it fair and i don’t think it’s healthy cause

[verse 3]
f-ck hip hop. forget the 16’s
look at your wrist watch. time to forget me
forget the back beat. sp-ce the b-ss and snare
all rappin’ is just a waste of air
all of the clappin’ is been fake
to spare me of shame and humiliation
rarely do you see a real fan of caucasian rappers
cause all of em sound like vanilla cake. no cr-ppin
but, i believe i’m raisin’ the stakes
and i challenge for anybody with a mic
and a melody to balance upon triple beam
weigh up the talent of you and i see how it compare
together when it’s lookin eye to eye
look at my talons. see the beak of eagle
as it swoops down to k!ll a couple beatles
and then you can here the sound of a
record hittin’ a needle and after it’s all done
i leave you fiendin’ for the sequel

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