This is a song about "You call that rapping"

I know that you think you're good at rapping and funny,

Fuck it its mmg, ima cross of def poetry and potent tree

Wear out tracks, let me do my thing, i got 16, for this roscoe thing

You wrote that big shit but nothing is related to rapping.

And i wonder you call you that, because the women made us,

Lord, forgive me, as a kid, i used to look at niggas jealous

That you call the rap game

They think they bring that pain

You can call me wrong but that doesnt make you right,

When you was leaving, did he put up a fight

I do the right thing

That i started rapping

In my drawsring, ring, ring

This beat that he's rapping

Homey used to be a player, now i coach fools

You wonder where we learn that? i call the cops the roots,