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Artist: Rittz
Album:  White Jesus
Song:   Die
Typed by: 

Slum shit

What you mean you don't like my shit? (my shit)
Well it's obvious that you don't have no taste and your opinions suck
And I don't expect to be everybody cup of tea
But don't act like I ain't killin everything I touch
I crush every record I'm on, so holla if you wanna 
get a feature while the price is right
See I try to be friendly, the emcees offend me
And now it's time for y'all to kiss the nice guy good bye
Besides, everyone hangin around me is a big shot
Well is it appropriate for me to act like one?
I try to be humble among you motherfucker
But some of you frontin really lookin mad like one
And done what I done already it's barely begun, it's scary
cause everyone's worrying, they say when I come 
wearing my hair like it's hilarious, tell me what's funny?
They're runnin when they see me drunk and my gun dumpin
They know they gonna DIE!

(Diiiii-iiiii-iii-iiiii-iiiie) Haters step aside 
They wanna fuck with me, I swear to God, I'll kill 'em 
'til they show respect, or not, then everybody gonna DIE!
(Diiiii-iiiii-iii-iiiii-iiiie)  Dead, sheddin blood
I got the gravedigger diggin ya plot
I got ya body rottin deep in the ground, cause everybody gonna DIE!

I'm not used to this music shit
I guess that I'm cut from a different cloth
Photographers, bloggers, producer pricks
and musicians as a whole is startin to piss me off
Not all, just some of 'em rub me wrong
Is it possible that everyone an entrepreneur?
Talkin to you like they a Hollywood star and you should be lucky 
that they even let you get your foot in the door
All I hear, ear full of manure, I don't know how much more
I can ignore, they just tryin too hard to be cool
To cut heads and wiggle they fuckin dreads
I feel like I'm surrounded by dorks and cornballs galore
Is anybody normal? I'm torn
I'm goin off on 'em or continuing to ignore
Maybe I should have my boys tie 'em up with the phone cord
Then gun point tell 'em, "Get the fuck..." cause everybody gon' DIE!


It's Jonny Valiant the head turner, a 10-to-1 head hunter
I bet if I met, one of your girls, I got head, from her
And I came on the bed comforter, the rest she didn't swallow it
I zip up my denims and then I gave her a fake number
And told her to "Hit me up, it's totally cool hoe!"
My homie Ghost signed me so I came in the booth though
My way in the industry, any rapper offended 
and wanna test me let me know, I'll get to cover your +Tombstone+
Doc Holiday all the way, pull my weapon and draw
Homie by the way, I don't play, disrespect me I brawl
Take your life away by the way I'm the deadliest on
I'll prob'ly be a killer till I'm George Jefferson bald
Look at 'em all runnin for cover, they panickin
Frantically, they don't even stand a chance with me
My plans to be famous and get a bad bitch
Maybe Casey Anthony'll marry me then everybody gon' die