Rap Fans (Mars Ill)

[Verse 1: manCHILD] I vent my anger on you strangers that I've never even met As I employ endangered medium of recordable cassettes To audibly connect, it oughtta be correct Tattoo my name on your eardrum to make sure you don't forget My faith and art that I protect leaves heads twitching like Torretts As I vomit my opinion over volatile soundsets Project through drums pounding, dumfounding the shallow And keeping true heads smiling in the shadows Baffle you with battle-tested methods from a distinguished master-linguist Extinguishing the meaningless rhetoric and jargon Leave the wack missing in action, their picture on milk cartons As my tongue burns like arson, opponents begging me for pardon No crates stacked with records with my picture on the cover But that's far from the point at hand on one had to the other From foreign sands to your motherland to your dreamy wonderland ManCHILD spits so rap fans can understand the Son of Man. [Hook:] In stadiums with packed stands or just you and your mans This jam is for the real rap fans ManCHILD commands where you stand from Japan to San Fran This jam if for the real rap fans From NYC down to where the ATLiens land This jam is for the real rap fans Urban lands, desert sands, rock wherever you can This jam is for the real rap fans [Verse 2: Sharlok Poems] Lyrics of steel, my flow heavy as anvils Thoughts spread long and wide as cotton fields Many play hard make me scream Actors guild Bad actors getting killed first episode of the season Stop rhyming for one reason cuz the ink pen stopped bleeding Prick your finger the needle and start thinking Into crowd I'm sinking, stage diving for the rap fans Speak mine across the land like Robert Gaines with aerosol cans Truth from mouth expands like rubber band being snapped back Many crews are called wack because rhyme skills they lack From the mouth words drag like dog with broke back I'm floor bound, thumb tack off the walls with mine With divine heart soul and mind and my mic skates Numbers of souls saved climbing like Cali's crime rate Like these record crates, flipping through beats rhymes and life Sharlok Poems and manCHILD for rap fans delight [Hook:] In stadiums with packed stands or just you and your mans This jam is for the real rap fans Sharlok commands where you stand from Japan to San Fran This jam is for the real rap fans From NYC down to where the Californians stand Urban lands, desert sands rock wherever you can This jam is for the real rap fans [Verse 3: manCHILD] Fanatics buying records like the junk was pornographic Fly rhymes get you higher than an addict in an attic Don't stop for red lights and the mic directs the traffic Climb Everest just to see the best correctly stab it Blood, sweat and tears for years because you gotta have it Mother hip-hop sticks my lyrics to the fridge with a magnet So fat when I bust raps, the doc told me to cut back But I make tracks for all of you cats and you don't want that The backpack assassins, fatty marker taggin Black and Anglo Saxon, any race you can imagine Holding down your area to start a chain reaction The fans deserve a hand cuz you made rap the main attraction If you listen for the love and you're sick of all the babbling I rain down like the weather, bring the pain like a contraction Clearer than cellophane on plexiglass style It's Sharlok Poems and soul heir the manCHILD While the wack stack grands and don't care if you clap hands I take a stand and make a jam for the real rap fans Take a stand and make a jam for the real rap fans Take a stand and make jams for the real rap fans [Hook x4]