Sup, Charlie? Sup, man?
Nothin', chillin', watchin' 'Makin' The Band'
Dude, your mother's makin' somethin'
That smells wonderful, man, yeah, Happy New Year, man
Man, I didn't have anywhere to go
So I'd just figured I bring my sleepin' bag over an'
You wanna do some net surfin'?
Yeah, sounds like a date, I mean that'd be great
Ha, ha, cool
I'm on All-hip-hop dot com, it's the end of the year
Chamillionaire got one of the best mixtapes upon here
Maybe I'm hallucinatin' or the screen isn't clear
I click on every link on him an' never like what I hear
I just hope he disappears
I hope he disappears too
Matter fact I hope a grave is where he disappears too
Tell me, how come you don't like him?
Naw, I don't like him 'cause you don't like him
How 'bout we post it all over the net? I'll do the typin'
He drops his new songs, the DJ's don't drop bombs
They don't even notice him on This-Is-50 dot com
50, he's one of the greats, Chamillionaire is not one
Make it look like suicide, he just slid his watch on
Ha, ha, that would be great, plus his album's droppin' late
When his Venom album drops, I'm gon' rub it in his face
I think he should ask God for forgiveness like he's Mase
'Cause his 'Mixtape Messiah' series' the mixtapes that I hate
I hear he's droppin' part eight
No, he's not, he's on seven
All these mixtapes he's droppin' is really gettin' upsettin'
I saw it on his Myspace
Man, who the heck you tellin'?
I was on his Myspace 'cause I was just about to get him, man
Yeah, chill, why the heck you yellin'?
I was only on his page so I can see how much he sellin'
Well, why the heck he sellin'? They're supposed to be free
Anyone who buys anything from him's a dummy
Yeah, all he ever talks about is candy paint an' money
An' how is kickers in his trunk, kick it like it's Chung Lee
How he gotta keep it Triller like Pimp C an' Bun B
An' his alligator seats, they were caught by Dundee
How the heck you know his lyrics man, what are you, a dweep?
Man, please, I hardly even know my ABC's
All he does is motivate me to try to get the G's
Every other rapper raps about how they got eighty keys
An' that's more appealin' to me than his chatter
Man, what's your mom cookin'?
Man, it don' even matter
Why the heck you gettin' mad if you sayin' it doesn't matter?
Actin' like a little girl who just got beaten an' battered?
'Cause I'm really startin' to think that you're an undercover fan
Not a undercover nothin', I'm a over-cover Stan
I call the station up an' try to get his records, man
Well okay, I believe you an' my mother's makin' Spam
Man, damn, why you don't have no Christmas cheer?
Christmas already done passed, plus the Grinch lives here
You don't like who I'm a-like, then you can disappear
Take your purple iPod an' get up out my chair
You'll, you just mad 'cause Soulja Boy kilt is here
Soulja Boy ain't gonna run hip-hop this year, you queer
Soulja Boy got a cartoon
Do I look like I care?
He gets paid by YouTube
Do you think that's fair?
I don't care if you're mad or not, I'm hopin' that Aster Roth
Drops somethin' that's hot enough to knock Eminem's album off
You shouldn't even talk, you're makin' me wanna puke
Keep mentionin' people that I think are really just a fluke
Stop, they'll never reach the top, I'm not havin' it
That's one hot album every never year's averagin'
Wait for Charles Hamilton, tell me who's gon' damage him
What'chu mean Charles Hamliton? Who the heck's Charles Hamilton?
Dude, I told you but you must have forgot
Crooked I's gonna come out an' take everyone's spot
Everyone is gonna flop when Aftermath is on top
Just stop, Eminem an' Doctor Dre won't drop
Charlie, please, you're a dweep, you're not even in the streets
You're not in the streets either 'cause you're always here with me
Yeah, but at least I got homies that know me in the streets
An' they know who Joe Buddens is an' Joel Ortiz
Royce 5'9 an' little more Kanyee's
I thought you said you didn't like album's with rappers try'na sing
I never told you such a thing, I never told you such a thing
I listen to T-Pain
No, you don't, man, please
What'cha mean? I never said that, that's not true
I'm on SOHH dot com more than you
I'm on Hip-hop-D-X
Man, I'm on Baller Status
Ooh, I'm on Nah-Right dot com an' that's to just to name a few
That's the only thing you do, you're a stand' for Lil Wayne
Man, Charlie, you're lame, you don't even know a thang
We were on hip-hop game the other night, you didn't complain
(Ahh, both of ya'll shut up)
Ah, mother, you're insane
(Are you talkin' back to mommy? Put food in your tummy)
Man, why I gotta eat mom? I'm not even hungry
Man, I am
I'm surfin' on the net, wait a sec, I'll be there
Wait, you act like you can't hear
(Boy, don't you make me embarrass you, dear)
Mom, stop' please, you're hurtin' my ear