(I think I'm ready, man

I'm ready to rap)

Nigga, you just talkin shit, man

I don't wanna hear that shit

(Hey, I'm ready, man)

Man, you been sayin that shit

(I'm ready to put it down)

Yeah, yeah...

(Show you that I'm down)

Ha-ha, alright, alright

We'll see, man

This ain't no game, though



[ VERSE 1 ]

Here, smoke some of this weed, so you can feel fine

And you just might need a drink, you gotta think of a rhyme

We can make the beat slow, so you can speed up the flow

With some cool pimp shit about some weed or some hoes

Or supposed you do a song that you can jam with foreign dancers

Or some growin-up-hard shit with slim to none chances

Maybe a familiar tune people already heard

Let's call Morris, see how much he want for a bird

Or fuck it, fuck it, let's strictly go pop

Do anything for the women while mis-representin your block

You can be famous in public with the right music and subject

You can make millions, nigga, if you just make that million love it

Imagine, you havin world tours, gettin paid

Hoes throwin panties on the stage, gettin laid

You don't have a Benz, but if you get on the mic and spit it

You will have enough to get it, whatever you do, I'm with it



[ CHORUS ]

All you gots to do is (write)

Share your problems with the world, tell the story of your life

All you gots to do is (write)

And they'll be right by your side, everything gon' be tight



But when you're wrong, muthafuckas gonna talk about ya

When you're wrong, muthafuckas gonna criticise ya

When you're wrong, muthafuckas gonna talk about ya

When you're wrong...



(Some tell you it's a art, some tell you it's a shame)



[ VERSE 2 ]

Now just be real with what you say and put some feelin up in it

And since everybody's dyin, put some killin up in it

I be right here by your side smokin kill until you're finished

And if you get writer's block, then nigga, chill for a minute

And hold up, okay, I got a tight idea

Just rap like you mad, the baddest muthafucka out here

Then bitches will respect ya, niggas might try to check ya

Nuts, money didn't getcha while them laws steady fetch ya

But think about it - you got it? Then write it down

Try your best to remember, don't worry now on how it sounds

It's gonna be cool, and if you gonna keep rappin, it's on

Just sacrifice your life and leave your problems at home

Now there's a million muthafuckas like yourself think they deserve it

If they get it before they do, they got to get they hands dirty

So just study these lines and make sure you don't forget it

Get on the mic and spit it, whatever you do, I'm with it



[ CHORUS ]



[ VERSE 3 ]
Chicken Huntin' Lyrics
Chicken Huntin' [Violent J] Well I'm heading down a southern trail I'm going chicken huntin' Chopping redneck chicken necks I ain't saying nothing To the hillbilly stuck my barrel in his eye Boomshacka boomshacka hair jumps in the sky Why I never liked chicken pot pie? Or the chopped chicken on rye? So tell Mr. Billy Bob I'm a cut his neck up Slice poke chop chop stab cut What can you do with the drunken hillbilly Cut his fucking eyes out and feed em to