BLAKPOPE - Attack Of The Clones Lyrics

Yeah, we in the building. F&G Productions. Blakpope Yeah. California. Yeah
Attack of the clone. Most of these rappers don't spit with the style that they own
Audio tuning they microphone. Don't even own they own vocal tone
Kindergarten they songs. Trying to fit in and mix in for a radio throne

Speaking of money and cars. Playground bars. CEOs rippin' these dummies with bars
Culture and history's dead in your rap. Swoopin like horace while y'all takin' naps
Dreamin' of bitches. Material wishes. Them watered down songs got you soundin' like Mitch's
Roger and Zappin', t pain in' them flows. Rockin' them skirts and your auntie clothes

Dances that's sweeter than chicks on the stroll. What is the gender? You don't even know
Pants that we wearin' ain't tight in this section. Some of y'all niggas got yeast infections
Spit penis off, no erection. Boy, the morals. Disrespectin'
Wearin' them brads cause you rollin' around with bangers. R&B players throwin' up they fangers

Mess around with Quo from the Hillside Stranglers. Y'all play down 501s and Wranglers
Everybody ain't a baller. Shot caller. I live check to check
Week to week. At least I'm rich in honesty. Cause y'all lie a lot and that's weak to me
Now everybody ain't a kingpin sellin' big rocks. And some of y'all is an imitation Tupac

And soundin' like Wayne, Richie, Quan, and Drake. With two cool songs on your home mix tape
Now everybody in your repertoire is fake. Mislead flocks like P.D. Jakes
Gotta cut the grass like a sea of snakes. Saltine crackers, at ya wake
Itty bitty cups of communion, great. Love's gon' get ya. KRS-One

Murder Capitola, everybody got a gun. I pray to the creator cause there ain't no other run
Booyak. This is the Reverend Seymour Dollaz
And today our subject is falsified members in Detroit
Now, Brother Johnson is a transvestite. Ain't no shame in his game

Sister Jackson, uh, she'll make it holla for five dollars
She'll do a strip with some EB and some bingo chips. I'm just sayin'