"Check it
You know how I roll
Just squashed a rumor from John Canzano
You know how I roll
Just squashed a rumor from John Canzano
I call my self rich
But I am not as rich as Billy
I call my self rich
Cuz I got Microsoft money
Excuse me, they got rich 'cause of me
So in Seattle I feel like Billy G!
Cuz if Billy G was here
He would be right there
Top nerd up in his mansion up there
Chillin’
Sitting on 20 Billion
Givin' cash to charity, make me look like a villain
For real dog and now thats B.I.G.
Ain't nobody in the NBA bigger than me
That’s Like an Apple exec trying to be smarter than me
That’s Like a Darius saying he works harder than me
That’s Like Mark Cuban having more rings than me
That’s like a rookie having more cars and things than me
That’s like you saying to yourself that your better than me
That’s like Pritchard saying to himself he’s better than me
Now stop, think about that
It aint about that at all
Its about P.A. AKA Big PAUL
Now that’s the difference between 1st and last place
Kevin tell me how my ass tastes?
Okay
Kevin tell me how my ass tastes?
KayPee in the futha-muckin' house!
Let go the mike, Uncle Paul, Imma 'bout to retort
you see, while you sittin' there in some balmy French port
the rest of us are back home trying to scout out these kids
You know, those of us who actually understand this whole biz?
We’re trying to go and scout which ones’ll make the best pros
All you’re doing is getting shot down by all sorts of French hoes
Euro Hoes, Bimbos, chicks I’ve done then let go
I asked Marlene ‘bout her friends--she says “for Allen? Hell, no!”
Ooh, you got fancy boats and planes and even a sub
And you know that all those billions just can’t buy you no love
‘Cept maybe for the girls who just smile and go fake it
buy a big-ass ring and even Vanessa Bryant won’t take it
Running the draft, it’s a craft, it’s a science plus art
All your meddlin’ does is mess it up, tips over the cart
Gimme the reins, gimme room, let me run all these ploys
I’ll do it again, set you up with Aldridge, Oden and Roy
But that wasn’t good enough for you, you meddlin’ prick
You brought in Larry Miller, and like a chick with a dick
You didn’t know which way to turn, didn’t know where to go
Listening to Hat Guy and Kolde? Stupid like Carrot Top’s fro.
Take yo' billions Uncle Paul, they can’t buy you jack shit
Of the stuff that’s important, that the champs all roll with
The big rings, the fat kandi all the trophy-winners rock
You know, the bling Bill Russell hoards (even got one for his cock)
I’ll be seeing you around one day, at some NBA gig
One of those guys around the league who’ll keep dancing the jig
Every year as your team goes down in flames once again
“But we made the playoffs!” Great, here’s your blue ribbon, kid.
We’re here at the end now—and now I’ll answer your rhyme
Your ass is extra virgin like olive oil – go steal another lame line.