The People's Champ

Hear ye, hear ye, yah
 In this future of hip hop history
 I'm here to bring out the people's champ
 R.A. The Rugged Man
 Put your hands up, tell 'em wild out
 This is how we do it, we here to turn it out
 Put your hands up, tell 'em wild out
 This is how we do it, we here to turn it out
 Yo, my flow reminiscent of a prime Grand Puba
 My tongue sharper than the sword of the Japanese Yakuza
 Beats always slamming like Dilla, like Ali was the man in Manilla
 Man or gorilla, I'm a nicer striker than Anderson Silva
 I'm conquering like Hannibal on the back of an elephant
 I'm the best even if I'm pink and pale and I'm lacking in melanin
 I've been a problem since my first birth date
 In the delivery room my dick hit the ground and it caused a earthquake
 The school hallways I was pissing in
 As a kid I was lacking in discipline
 Ignoring authorities and never listening
 I come from the slummiest of slum villages, killing evil
 You come from a village of disco dancing; Village People
 You other rappers I'm obliterating
 My flow is the Michelangelo Sistine Chapel
 You ain't even fingerpainting
 Bitch, I'm swinging nunchucks and hitting you dumb fucks
 And making you duck down like Ruck and Ruste Juxx
 I'm eyeing you fat bitches and seeing which one fucks
 I'm making the gun blust, I'm bringing the blood guts
 Come on
 I get it done for the (people, people)
 I'm the champ, I'm the champ of the (people, people)
 I bring home the title to the (people, people)
 I'm the motherfucking champ of the (people, people)
 I'm the motherfucking champ of the (people, people)
 This isn't money and a Grammy and an Academy Award
 This a brutal lyrical verbal version of Gatti and Ward
 If I bust in your eye, it might blind ya
 As a kid I was too hyper, sniffing pancakes syrup from Aunt Jemima
 Sip wine with Jesus, tell him I'm in a drunken stuper
 Then I slap box God and sumo wrestle with Buddha
 I ain't dumbing it down, I'm murdering and gunning it down
 These others artists I'm above them even if I'm under the ground
 A rapper with a Maybach or a car that my ass can't afford
 I'll rip out the windshield and I'll shit on your dashboard
 Don't make me laugh, young blood newcomer
 Your mother was a crackhead, you a crack baby fresh out of the dumpster
 Smacking ya, hurt ya, I murk ya, massacre mass murder
 Blasting your ass, stashing the burner, the trash lurker
 I'm worser than Rambo in Bhurma
 I'm dumb in the head, I'm not a fast learner
 The white boy version of Nat Turner
 Come on
 I get it done for the (people, people)
 I'm the champ, I'm the champ of the (people, people)
 I bring home the title to the (people, people)
 I'm the motherfucking champ of the (people, people)
 I'm the motherfucking champ of the (people, people)
 (People, people)
 I'm the motherfucking champ of the (people, people)
 Tommy Hearns Marvelous Marvin Hagler with the vernacular
 Bullets splattering through your kidney and flying out the back of ya
 I'm shining like diamonds in Africa
 I'm mathematical, scientifical like Benjamin Banneker
 Rowdier than riots in Attica
 I got identity issues, it's self hatred, a pissed off
 Wigga acting like I just stepped off of the slaveship
 I kill any beat, murder any track
 Mutilate the snare, rape the kick-drum and shit on the hi-hat
 Come on
 I get it done for the (people, people)
 I'm the champ, I'm the champ of the (people, people)
 I bring home the title to the (people, people)
 I'm the motherfucking champ of the (people, people)
 I'm the motherfucking champ of the (people, people)
 Put your hands up, tell 'em wild out
 This is how we do it, we here to turn it out
 Put your hands up, tell 'em wild out
 This is how we do it, we here to turn it out
 I let it rock for the (people, people)
 I'm the champ, I'm the champ of the (people, people)
 I really live for the (people, people)
 I'll win it all for the (people, people)
 That's what we are, we just (people, people)
 I'm the champ, I'm the champ of the (people, people)