I hate gossip

And I don't walk around lookin' for it, you know

But, yesterday It seemed to just wander around 'til it found me

You know like, gossip found me

Then why don't you try proving it

How? You don't know how to prove it

Well, what you just do is (is is)

Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop (x lots)

Stop, hatin' on a nigga

That is a weak emotion, the lady of a nigga

And you could get tipped like your waitin' on a nigga

[rap, hip-hop and R&B lyrics found on beckerist.com]

Put a body bag and an apron on the nigga

I give my all behind the mic

But you could never see, if you sit behind the light

You don't have to pick me to win the title fight

But I'm gone wear that championship belt so tight

And if I'm wrong, there is no right

And if I'm wrong, there is snow white

I'm tryin' to be polite

But you bitches in my hair like the fuckin' po-lice

My flow is rare, these other rappers nice

These other rappers bark, some of 'em even bite

But I'm much more bright, I give the game sight

So before you dim the lights you just might, might, wanna

Think it over (think it over) Oohhh

[rap, hip-hop and R&B lyrics found on beckerist.com]

Think it over (think it over) Baby

(Stop!)

Stop, analyzin' criticizin'

You should realize what I am and start epidomizin'

Confident, got the heart of the biggest lion

Confident like fuck 'em all, pull out my dick and ride it

My flow sick, so sick, it's like my shit is dyin'

It rains a lot in my city, 'cause my citys cryin'

'Cause my citys dyin'

But I emerge from all of that

I am a livin' pion-eer, sighin', fear god, not them

Steer my Robin Coupe through the streets of the boot

And, soo-woop!

And, then I a leave tub in the boot, I leave a blood bath

[rap, hip-hop and R&B lyrics found on beckerist.com]

Sorry there's a tub in the boot, now where the drugs at?

Like the strings on a shoe, no nigga fuck that

I'm twisted like the string on a boot

Where New Orleans at?

I feel hip hop stole me like a bus pass

So in your possession, I must ask

Hey, haven't I been good to you? (think it over)

Tell me haven't I been sweet to you?

Drag my name through the mud, I come out clean

Cast away stones, I won't even blink

A gun is not a math problem, I won't even think

Just leave you dead like the mink under my sink

Don't believe in me, don't believe me

I graduated from hungry, and made it to greedy

[rap, hip-hop and R&B lyrics found on beckerist.com]

My flow is like pasta, take it and eat it

But I'm a need cheese if I'm bakin' a ziti

You niggas want beef, I want a steak and

Uh, we be, lost in Amsterdam or Jamaica where we be

Hard body nigga, takin' it easy

All about my paper, 'bout my paper like Eazy

Why do rappers, lie to rappers, lie to fans

Lot of rappers, lot of rappers lie like actors

Cut the mothafuckin' cameras

Cut the check, fuck your props

I AM hip hop

And I ain't dead. I'm alive

I will be transcribing the lyrics to Tha Carter 3 over the next

couple days. Keep checking back for updates. This is track 19.