Champion

(Ali, the baddest muthafucka there ever...)

I'm chokin players like I'm Bob Knight, choke the coaches like I'm Spreewell

They bowin to the 'Sayers till they knees swell

I shake the game up worse than Single White Females

Walkin to they car alone flashin three bills

These little kids are talkin 'bout how little I know

Boy, I grab a mic and rock you like your Triple 5 Soul

With a civilized flow, but if you say my name I'm like Beetlejuice

Dice you up and slap you till your teeth are loose

I've seen the noose and will not get lynched by the industry

Nor will I have a A&R pimpin me stickin his thing in me

I'd sing for free for some years if it's clear to me

That if I'm there for my team they're there for me

For real, I be diligently killin the soliloquies

Of these millipeds that try to pass themselves off as ill MC's

I weave a web of words so intricately

That the English dictionary lacks an adjective to fit me

If he want my album tell him not to fuck with ATAK

He was hatin and Slug told the bitch to send my tapes back

And if I lose my voice then instead of sayin raps

I start paintin facts on the wall with hot crayola crayon wax

You're now rockin with the champion

You know you're in a war that can't be won

You need to stop and understand me, son

Cause I got a pocket full and I can hand you some