Tom Thum (R.A. the Rugged Man)

I got a big head and a fat ego I got the starving and hungry poverty superiority flow My pistol is old school class, I'm peeling your ass fast Yo, I'm uncontrollably gifted, I totally ripped it I'm vocally vicious Naming the best ever, I'm supposed to be listed Even if I'm emotionally and overly twisted and socially timid And every chick had left with a broken ovary when I hit it The fans follow me like disciples, I'm Charlton Heston Not the Moses version, I'm the gun toting version with the rifles Don't let them crabs gash you When I'm jacking a rapper and ripping the jacket And patching your ass and using a machete to smash you I'll rob anyone, anywhere, under the jacket, get the flame up Pull the gun out at your wedding while your grandma do the macarana All these feminine rappers wanna see me dead and buried Too many rappers is drag-queened out; Tyler Perry Sick of the similar imitating I did it already to pitifully paint 'em The bigger the better, debate 'em You biting what I'm spitting, you already verbatim I don't need to breathe when I rap, I got gills, fuck lungs I'm like a superhero out of the toilet of the slums Come on Every verse like a firearm Blasting ya I'm the greatest! You ain't shit Compared to me. Shacking up for the night at the crib with a B-movie actress Shocking next to the bed and the wad of cash under the mattress As a kid I wasn't into theatrics After school my daddy used to teach me combative Green Beret tactics My flow natural, you artificial, beefed up Barry Bonds at BALCO Dope or dog food? I spit heroin, your rhymes are alpo I ain't into the tight jeans I'm into bar brawls, brass knuckles, and bloody fight scenes The mainstream pussies ever give me props? No, nada That's like the Fox News giving props to Obama Wait, I teach the children and the world the word hate I eat pussy 'til every dyke on the Earth turn straight I'm disturbing with the grammar I'm more disturbing than bombing the baptist church of Birmingham, Alabama I've been repping I'll put a hit on any paper that my pen blessing I'm nice with the hands, each fist is a registered weapon I'll leave you forever rested I don't care if you're beefed up on steroids or what you bench pressing I'm at the Best Western and tossing your girl salad with some French dressing Hit you with a batter of hatchets in the back of a ratchet My flow, ain't a rapper that match it Too much lyricism too digest, I do it on purpose Two of my bars is more lyrical than two of your verses Come on Every verse like a firearm Blasting ya I'm the greatest! You ain't shit Compared to me. I tour the world You're at home with your momma I get ass Every night you get no ass Suck my balls, and choke on my dick you bitch You ain't shit Compared to me.