Artist: Ruthless Bastardz Album: Too Raw for Radio Song: Superman (Remix) Typed by: Cno Evil [Truck] Aiyo, you slippin', that's how you get outlined in chalk And now that you in, got you thinking you Incredible Hulk Why you breathing hard, man, put ya chest back in 'Fore the paramedics have to put your check back in Aiyo, it's Truck and I'm more like Optimus Prime Back the fuck up 'fore you get your ass popped with a nine You run with an army, nigga, I wish I would I can't go to Iraq, that's just war in the hood Copped the guns to my engine, nigga, pop the hood Pitch against the people, cops get popped in my hood I still whip your ass, live broadcast on TV You try to blame ya death on some fucking PCP [Chorus: Truck] You ain't Superman, nigga you can't fly If you come through my hood, fronting you gon' die This is a remix, now whose ready to ride? We gon' ride, we gon' ride [Apocalipps] Apocalipps catch 'em, I chase 'em down, poke 'em and stab 'em No joke with the magnum, a four four roasting your cabbage Return of the Bastardz, wild like acid Meanwhile get ya ass kicked, burn with them burners and blasted I smash you homey, and I can tell you phony I have my L.A. niggas get up in your ass like Kobe Since you Superman, I go the Kryptonite Creep on you at night, the nina leave you crippled for life And I see through your bullshit like Cyclops, I'm starving man And ya'll niggas starting to look like IHOP If I pop, you pop, if I flip, you flip That's how we do this, and that's the code of Ruthless And you ain't know Lipps ride beats with no saddle But now you know, stupid, and knowing is half the battle Like G.I. Joe, no kung fu shit, I got the kung fu grip The tech nine, got the one-two kick And you the type to get your ounces tooken And get popped by faggots like the City Councilman from Brooklyn And I ain't spit for a half an hour Just one of my bars'll have you thinking for a half an hour If I gave you coke on cosignment, half was flour Ya'll need to rep some other shit, cuz the Stat is ours [Chorus] [Iron Mic] It's Iron Mic, you claim you the best, I gotta come atcha You ain't no thug, muthafucka, you'se a rapper Don't get it twisted, spit your biscuit back atcha, the chrome or the plastic Trying to get rid of you actors Now have you double back, call it the Bastardz, get all of the ratchets Send his lame ass, off of the basket I live the life, where I'm forced to get drafted We running from jake, tossin' the 'matic, we the cause of the havoc My stomach ache, we the cause of the static, and we changing the game You think of us, when you mention the Staten You on that boat? Boy, you better be packing, the sharks in the water We throw ya ass off, trying to play captain You ain't Superman, nigga, you can't fly Niggas get shot around my way, everyday to survive So if you ever try, just know I'm ready to die with my Gun on my side, nigga, ready to ride Iron Mic, coming soon, nigga, I'm signed o Pop I got a thousand more bars, you lucky this beat stopped, nigga [Interlude: Truck] Wait, wait, wait, wait, get the fuck outta here This beat didn't stop, muthafucka This the remix, get back in here [Iron Mic] It's no way you can stop it, extra clips in my pocket Half a shotty that blasts off like rocket We sell drugs and commit robberies and profit The Iron Mic, my heart is like Tyson, I treat it like boxing Stick and move, nigga, grippin' the tool I'm like T-Mack, bring these young boys to school You better relax, we got our forks and spoons We hungry muthafucka, and we coming for our food And if I was you, I wouldnt be fucking with them dudes They busting they tools, you are guaranteed to lose The heart beats to the concrete, so go run and get ya crew And you heat, it won't compare to our army A Ruthless soldier, we grind like Folgers Spit it for my thug culture, man, we live like vultures Lick off the dead, fuck a price, put the knife to ya head Before we go, save our souls, you heard what we said And I ain't gon' stop, til these niggas murder me dead You either give us ours, now, the'll be more bloodshed [Chorus 2X]