Nail in the Coffin lyrics

[Intro]

This motherfucker, man!

Just won't shut up, will you?

Talking 'bout I owe him

Bitch, you owe me!

I'm promotin' you right now

Yo, let's put the nail in this coffin!

[Hook]

I don't wanna be like this

I don't really wanna hurt no feelings

But I'm only being real when I say

Nobody wants to hear their grandfather rap (nope)

And old men have heart attacks

And I don't wanna be responsible for that

So, put the mic down and walk away

You can still have a little bit of dignity

[Verse]

I would never claim to be no Ray Benzino

An 83-year-old fake Pacino

So how can he hold me over some balcony without

Blowing his lower back out as soon as he goes to lift me?

Please don't—you'll probably fall with me

And our asses'll both be history

But then again you'd finally get your wish

‘Cause you'll be all over the street, like 50 Cent

Fuckin' punk pussy! Fuck you, chump!

Give me a one-on-one, see if I don't fuck you up

Tried to jump the Ruff Ryders and they cut you up

And you put Jada on a track, that's how much you suck

Dick in the industry, swear that you in the streets hustlin'

You sit behind a fuckin' desk at The Source butt-kissin'

And beggin' motherfuckers for guest appearances

And you can't even get the clearances

'Cause real lyricists don't even respect you or take you serious

It's not that we don't like you—we hate you, period

Talk about a mid-life crisis, damn

Last week you was shakin' Obie Trice's hand

Now he's a buster? What the fuck's with that?

Get on a track dissin' us, kissin' 50's ass

And askin' me what I know about indictments, bite me!

Bitch, I got two cases and probation—fight me!

What do I know about standin' in front of a judge like a man

Ready to take whatever sentence he hands?

What you know about your wife slicin' her wrists

Right in front of the only thing that you have in this world

A little girl?

And I put that on her, when this is all over

I would never try to make her a star and eat off her

I don't know shit about no choppin' rocks

But what you know about Hip Hop Shops rockin' spots

Where you the only white boy up in that bitch just rippin'?

Pressin' up your own fliers and your stickers, stickin'

Them bitches up after spendin' six hours at Kinko's

Just makin' copies of your covers of cassette singles

To sell them out of the trunk of your Tracer

Spendin' your whole paychecks at Disc Makers

What you know about being bullied over half your life?

Oh, that's right, you should know what that's like

You're half white; Vanilla Ice, spill the beans and rice

I'm eatin' you alive inside, Jesus Christ!

If you're that much of a gangsta, put the mic down!

You should be out killin' motherfuckers right now

Kill a motherfucker dead, kill him dead, bitch!

Shoot 'em in the fuckin' head—go ahead, bitch!

Slap my mom! Slap the fuck out of her!

She can't sue you, she wouldn't get a buck out of ya

‘Cause you're broke as fuck, you suck, you're a fuckin' joke

If you was really sellin' coke, well, then what the fuck

You stop for, dummy? If you slew some crack

You'd make a lot more money than you do from rap

You'll never have no security, you'll never be famous

You'll never know what it's like to be rich

Life's a bitch, ain't it? Raymond?

Here, let me break the shit down in layman's

Terms for you, just to make sure that you can understand it and

Canibus ain't using too many complicated fuckin' words for you

Here, let me slow it down for you

So that you could understand if I say it slower

Let it go, dog, it's over

[Hook]

I don't wanna be like this

I don't really wanna hurt no feelings

But I'm only being real when I say

Nobody wants to hear they grandfather rap (nope)

And old men have heart attacks

And I don't wanna be responsible for that

So, put the mic down and walk away

You can still have a little bit of dignity

[Outro]

Haha… talking 'bout I have motherfuckers callin' your crib

Bitch, you ain't even got a fuckin' crib!

You ain't even got a fuckin' phone… fuckin' bum!

Threatenin' to shut me down at your lil' fuckin' Source magazine, if I come back on you and attack you

Bitch, you attacked me first!

Take it like a man, and shut the fuck up!

And fuck your little magazine too!

I don't need your little fuckin' magazine

I got XXL's number anyways

And y'all can't stand it, ‘cause they gettin' bigger than y'all

Oh, and by the way, how'd I look on the VMA's?

When you was watchin' me

From whatever fuckin' TV you was watchin' me from

From Boston… the mean streets of Boston

Fuckin' sissy! And you got us scared up in here, motherfucker

Suck our motherfuckin' dicks!

Oh! And for those that don't know

Don't get it twisted, y'all: The Source has a white owner!