lirik lagu infinity f.u.’s – matlock
yeah, you too mothaf-cka
yeah, to the whole rap game: f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
cats showing no shame, so f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
man if you gotta use my name, to get yourself a little fame
then you’re a loser anyway, f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
that morty gold sh-t’s weak, f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
even the old sh-t’s sweat, so f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
and granite grows gritty beats, while the whole city sleeps
so if you’re just waking up, then f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
eyyo, remember when you showed love, before you had a big mouth
when you were just a noname, before you put your sh-t out
before you went to b-tch rap, before the dough got ya
and turned hiphop into a f-cking soap opera
more and more drama, i’ve been tripping all week
because these kids all think that their sh-t don’t stink
chill, don’t speak, you ain’t signing autographs
y’all should be slanging tapes, out a f-cking garbage bag
hardest ever f-g on a track acting phoney
you made a rap record and wanted to act like you know me
you want me to do a cut with you, chill and smoke a blunt with you
and be my little buckaroo, but i don’t even f-ck with you
and it ain’t nothing new, you dance for a docket
and you all playahate each other like lobsters in a bucket, f-ck it!
and to my peers, i just wanna hear flows, it appeal to my ears
but n-body hears close, you wanna hear it, here it goes, f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
you hiphop-heroes, f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
you cats with big egos
and all you f-cking weirdos, spitting words you can’t spell f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
that’s all you’ll ever get from me, f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
yeah, till infinity, f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
the internet, the industry, the radio ain’t sh-t to me
y’all can all go to h-ll, f-ck you (f-ck you!)
eyyo, i press 500 tapes, gave away a stack of ’em
i’m broke but the bootleggers probably went platinum
so morty’s coming after them, p-ssed and disgusted
i hope you catch aids, i hope you get your sh-t busted
stacking no chips, you wonder why i’m so p-ssed
you so rich, and all up in my pockets like a broke b-tch
subliminal, it’s no diss, f-ck it then, so is this
two words and both fists
i pull cards like “go fish”, dead on i don’t miss
man i can’t hold back, rap on your own risk
don’t get your dome cracked
man i just won’t pack my hard-heard bucks
and i didn’t cop your new cd, but i heard it sucked
and every spot i go to, it’s just the same sh-t again
watch whose name you whispering
don’t think that i ain’t listening, get some recognition
watch your momma start hating, it’s the he-say-she-say
i refuse to partaken
and to the writers start painting, f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
and till the bomb end in breaking, f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
and to all you rappers faking, take that money that you’re making
and go buy yourself a heart, f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
yo, what’s this beefing all about? f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
i’m the wrong cat to doubt, f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
just put your wack -ss alb-m out, and keep my name up out your mouth
and everything will be gravy, f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
yea yea, you like to pop a lot of crack
that’s why n-body got your back
and you don’t even got a gat
i hope your -ss gets shot for that
you got the nerves to wonder why i screw face you fruitcakes
you’re too fake, and you don’t even like that bullsh-t you make
it’s not in your new tape, it’s not how you spit (uh-uh)
it’s all in what you got, and whose d-ck you suck to get it
your rhymes: despicable, punchlines: predictable
man, any kind of criminal would beat that -ss on principle
you ain’t never been broke, that supposed to be some sick joke?
expecting heads to buy it, when you lie with every pen stroke?
i see it in your eyes, i can’t help but criticize
you ain’t no murderer unless you count killing eyes
and every time you’re in my eye, you’re caught up in a different lie
you bunch of p-ss-es wish i died, but i got bigger fish to fry
too many names a name, but just on vain your one-two
play this song for your crew, and say i’m hating on you
but what you’re really gonna do, f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
every single last one of you, f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
you always claim you’re number one, but you’re less than number two
in other words you ain’t sh-t, f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
you really think you’ll match this? f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
you’re a d-mn actress, f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
you got a crew full of f-gots, and your heart is lenny kravitz
and your b-tch got dirty feet, f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
you wanna talk about crime? f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
you’re the type to drop dimes, f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
and you can copy down my rhymes, and try to read between the lines
but it all sums up the f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
my name is morty goldsteen, f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
i stay up late and don’t sleep, f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
i like to chill and smoke weed, and steal sh-t i don’t need
so when you catch me in your crib, f-ck you! (f-ck you!)
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