If it ain't 'bout the green like a Benetton logo
I got no interest like a credit card promo
Fourth and inches, better call Romo
I always shoot first - Han Solo
Obi Wan Shinobi with the Force of the Wu-Tang
I'm tryin' pull up in the Porsche or the Mulsanne
I'ma need a fortune by Tuesday
I'm buy-polar, only money makes my mood change
Blue face hunnids by the bundle in the suitcase
'Cause I was raised in the jungle with a few apes
Every day, had to navigate a new maze
A few days, had no sugar for the Kool-Aid
You two faced, got no time for a fake fan
No Diddy, but I stay tryin' to make bands
They been throwin' shade, no Ray-Bans
Just because we're blood doesn't mean we relate, fam (We don't relate)
Might be the greatest that you never heard
A clever nerd, got 'em hangin' on my every word
They're self-preserved, makin' statements that are well rehearsed
Never felt the urge to squeal; bitch, I never turned
And if I get the deal, then it's well deserved
Tryin' to sell a verse for real just to quell the thirst
Never had to steal, wasn't sellin' birds
The paddy wagon and the hearse had me well deterred
Growin' up mama taught me that jail's scary
If you got the bail carried, that'll tip the scales barely
If I don't succeed, at least I'll fail fairly
Fourth quarter, Aaron Rodgers with the hail mary
No Mr. Rogers in my neighborhood
Commence the robbin' for a greater good
They're committin' fraud just to say they could
They pillow talk so their broads give away the goods
That'll lead to your demise quick
The game is to be sold, not told; check the fine print
Used to write rhymes on the T-Mobile Sidekick
I've been live since 9-6 on the rhyme tip
I just wanted to rap like Shawn Carter
They wanna put me on the path to a blonde martyr
I bomb harder than most, plus I'm a lot smarter
They want me to sell my soul, that's a non-starter
Learn to separate fact from fiction
That's how I know that these rappers fibbin'
They rats and snitches that blab specifics
And turn their backs on past tradition
Committin' acts of rap sedition
A flash in the pan like a batch of biscuits
The shit you're saying on wax is different
Than the life that you actually have been livin'
I don't have prescriptions or a Xan addiction
No Actavis in the glass I'm sippin'
No activist, what I'm demanding is
The abolition of a damaged system
My niece shouldn't have had to see her dad in prison
Over guns and drugs and bad decisions
Try to make it disappear like a damn magician
But we can't forget and we can't forgive 'em
I'm tryin' to do the math, addition
Watch the numbers goin' up like a statistician
I'm tryin' my best to subtract division
And bring the unity back that's missin'
My community's a tad bit different
Santa Claus don't come back to visit
Don't attack the cause, they attack the symptom
Attach their claws to the backs of victims
No pacifist, I'll grab the Smith and Wesson
Turn his chest into hash and grits for breakfast
I'm a sadomasochistic legend
I got the cannabis connection
They been stackin' bricks like Tetris
Sorry, we don't flap our lips, detective
I don't know where he ran or which direction
I ain't takin' the stand to give confession
They can make your life a livin' hell
I don't really like to kiss and tell
I'd rather lie than snitch to 12
I'd rather die than sit in jail
I'ma grab the .9, forget the bail
I know the conequences well
I hope that commonsense prevails
I'll watch my competition fail
Now these rappers wanna go Tekashi
Ain't a rapper young or old can stop me
The flow's berserk, I've been told I'm cocky
I show my work so these clones can copy
You'll never be me, your flow is sloppy
I'm reporting the facts like Hoda Kotb
Don't make it off of rap, get the coke from papi
I skate with a stick for a goal, it's hockey
You don't wanna be a foe of Nati
When I load the shotty, start blowin' bocce
Sized holes through the side of your old jalopy
Hop out the bush in an ode to Bonnie
And Clyde, I slide with the .40 on me
Fold ya body like origami
Raised in a zoo where we go Jumanji
Ten toes down, bitch, both Huaraches
Three Rivers, MI, based hip-hop artist A Rapper Named Nati has been penning rhymes since 1996. He met Dutch producer Rob Maestro in high school, circa 2004. Fifteen years later, the pair have been anointed Self-Proclaimed Kings. (Pronounced “notty.”)
Recorded at the rapper's Brooklyn apartment during lockdown, this album offers poignant reflections on the uncertain decisions defining the uncharted territory of today's reality. Bandcamp Album of the Day Jul 21, 2020
An 18-minute instrumental hip-hop suite from the Philly beatmaker, inspired by ’70s thriller movies from India, China, Europe and beyond. Bandcamp New & Notable Jul 7, 2021
