I Guess - Tay Sean

Un-anointed, self-appointed

Kings of clones, charicatures

Feeble hoes unfit to serve

The weakest thrones, from which you perch

Each his poems more sick than yours

No medicines, no instant cures

No hex, no hymn can’t life the curse

You’d better get some different swerve

Irreverent and immature

The excrement your lips procure

A rhetoric of simps, and surely

Eloquence has skipped your turn

Your temperament is insecure

Attention, yes, a bitch’s thirst

You represent a wicked work

Of benefit to misters, sirs

Swallow all the shit they serve

Follow just the simplest urges

Life’s a bitch, who hit it first?

You’ll never get what’s in her purse

Your gang is just some strength in numbers

Your game?

Ages 8 and under

You’re lame and unimpressive lover

Your cake never stretchin rubber

Your drugs is just your fashion statement

Your thug?

An exaggeration

Your love the same as masturbation

Your raps lack imagination

Your image is some movie actin

Your niche is in a beauty pageant

Your bitch is an aspiring ratchet

Your snitchin', an undying habit

Your social life is a popularity contest, at best

Your dope and vices a constant therapy process, Jah bless

And they claim that they ascended, I’m offended

Cuz what they represented wasn’t sevens

And they say they stay suspended, they pretendin (that ain’t fly)

We all in the same dimension, they forgetting (but we try)

Pseudo-swaggin, quasi-posi

Pundits of the posin

The public’s spoken

Babylon’s incumbents have been chosen

Ya ain’t never bossy, anti-flossy

Fakers of the funk

Just flavors of the month

Cause you’s a dranker of the punch, ooh

Your persona is a parody

Your ego is embarrassing

Your ethos is of pharisees

Your credo lacks sincerity

Your steelo don’t compare to him

Your intellect, a barren tree

Your pimpin' is a charity

Your bitch is always where we be

Your loyalty is a bandwagon

Your friendship is a transaction

Your poems are personal me parties

Your turn up is a tea party

Your all good is a falsehood in the flesh, a mess

I guess that’s what they callin fresh, I guess

Does the shoe fit?

What’s the movement?

Where they do this?

Is this the new shit?