This is a song about "Your not a rapper"

When the truth came out i'm a rapper not a poet "aka" the people's mouth

We don't know what to say to the damage we stay silent like a mouse

But in that that rapper illness i was not in a flying flock but i was a survivor hawk

So motherfucka don't appear when the money's homelil' homie done grew into a big dog

But that's not the case with me, i wanna be a rapper so badly,

If i see it how he seen it, that would make my parents happy

The game's a bitch, ooh we got her

I may not look like a black rapper

Used to clean my rolie chain with alcohol in the sink

Im not really a rapper im more of an artist

I tell them killers they ain't figure what they fightin' for

You wish you were a rapper, your a lyrical disaster

Good love then i can do that for her

I aint really a rapper

Fucking hell what a rapper,

Got your whore doing shit that's uncalled for