Best Rapper Under 25 lyrics

[Intro]
Weezy, what's up with it, brotha?
Tell Maestro I need to f*ck over his beat real quick
Hear me?

[Hook]
I'm the best rapper under 25, 24 inches on my ride
Ball like 23 and I shot my first .22 when I was 9

[Verse 1]
That's no lie, ho
Rappers out they mothaf*cking minds, so I gotta go
'Psycho' on these n*ggas, call me Norman Bates with a poker face
Got the banger in my hand and I'm out to poke your face
.38 Special, grab it, let him have it – "Where the safe?"
We hungry, Housing Quthority saved my Section 8
My section be on the west side of Compton, Cali, champ
Where them killers posted on the corner like a letter stamp
Let a rapper tell me I ain't better than whoever's out
I'ma knock 'em out his Force 1's once I air 'em out
Air jets flying 'cross the atlas
I made it, momma, made a promise
Married to Hip-Hop, and the maid of honor gonna be R&B
I'm f*cking her too, so please hand me my condoms
Where the honeymoon in the mother f*cking booth
You're f*cking right, I'm the f*cking truth
I put my hand on The Bible
Swear to god if I lie, then I'll probably die tomorrow
Tell my momma don't feel sorrow, 'cause her son was a gunner
They found my corpse with a rapper's head in my stomach
I'm right here, I ain't running even if the Iraqis w-was in back of me
Back against the wall, I'm clapping them rapidly, y'all
Would never stop what you can't see
It's like a red light when driving with Stevie
Wonder if you can understand or withstand the blast of my wrath
I steer the game with both hands while you crash
Like Earnhardt, my heart to the fallen soldiers
You can either ride, or get rolled over
Sleeping on me, I put you in a coma
So please chill out, before you meet the coldest
Starving every day, see my face where the bowl is
Bowl on my face, I walk while my mouth hold it
[Hook]
Hold it
I'm the best rapper under 25, 24 inches on my ride
Ball like 23 and I shot my first .22 when I was 9

[Verse 2]
21 gun salute
And my soldiers killed 20 of your troops at a time
And I got about nine teens on the corner f*cking with marijuana jive
And heard about 18 rappers say that a bird can go for 17.5
Motherf*ck that – my sweet 16's be equivalent to about 15 pie
I was 14 when I wrote a rhyme
All I seen was 13 ghosts every time I wrote a crazy line
All these 12 bars in my verses, that's what Notorious and Pac arrived
Goddammit, I spit just like a Mac 11 every time
I drop jewels, you drop dimes, you pretending to be like mine
I intend to put about 10 of you rappers on Channel 9
Straight up, f*ck around and get ate up
Cut 'em up in 7 ways
Funeral carried by 6 in 5 days
You'll know I go for money
When I sink my teeth in 'Carter III' beats – to you from me
My son, the victory is mine, I won
I'm the one
The beat was the pus*y
And I c*m, hard