[Verse 1]
I got that raw dirty rap with that clean sharp flow
If you ain't heard son, just ask your hooo
Milots got it locked from outta Kosov
This other rappers yapping, but thier shit gets old
They slip and fold
Me, I got a kung-fu grip on the industries hips
as I ride my dick
I make you sick?
All I do is make you hits
You can hate it or love it, the f**k up off my sh*t
My skin is thick, but you know they ain't never gonna learn
F**king with Milot and they crash burn
Fix your perm
better yet fix your weaves
Quit bobbing your heads, and get the fuck off your knees
I got a disease, It spreads and kills Emcees
One verse outta my mouth and having them bleed outta thier ears
Sighting thier fears, got all these rappers shook up
They all know I'm comming and they sh*t outta luck

[Chorus]
Gotta keep on writing,
gotta keep on spitting
till the whole world know who I am
Gotta shut these rappers down,
gotta hit 'em with the sound,
cos they all know it ain't no f**king thang
Cos Milot eat rap, Milot sleep rap
So you know I'm straight sh*tting on the game
All that sh*t they talking bout
they jus sh*tting out thier mouth
Cos I really don't hear what they sayin'

[Verse 2]
I finished the verse, You got pre-school bars
I'm surgical with this sh*t, you just a nursery star
You ain't up to par,
You slipping while I'm hittin' 'em hard,
Leaving 'em scared
Emcees put up your gaurd, I knuckle you down
Best rapper pound for pound
Dropping hits on these mother f**kers round for round
Gimme the crown, and all the respect thats due;
Even if you had my feet, you couldn't walk in my shoes
So what whatcha chose
Go against against Milot and you lose
Cos I'm all trouble mother f**ker, nothing but bad news
You'll blow like a bad fuse
Begone with your fake rhymes
I heard through the grape wines
You trying to take mine?
Hit you with a bar, you're careers on break-time
Ain't lying, go ahed and try me sucker
I eat your ass up like I was dying of hunger
Milot's the wonder
Hittin' rappers hard like thunder

[Chorus]
Gotta keep on writing,
gotta keep on spitting
till the whole world know who I am
Gotta shut these rappers down,
gotta hit 'em with the sound,
cos they all know it ain't no f**king thang
Cos Milot eat rap, Milot sleep rap
So you know I'm straight sh*tting on the game
All that sh*t they talking bout
they jus sh*tting out thier mouth
Cos I really don't hear what they sayin'

[Verse 3]
I dunno how I got it, but I got it, so it's all good
I was born with this sh*t, there's nothing that I could or woulda done
To change where I came from.
I thank God for letting my parents have thier first son
Live from the early stages,
I burnt through adolescent stages
Never patient / Hated waiting / always busy celebrating
Catcha dating / Hit the tele, penetrating / You realating
Needed added hesitating / life is ready for the taking
Gotta move no debating / lotta money to be making
Rebel on the track so you know I'm straight heavy weighting
Ain't no mistaking, here for the throne
Here to break 'em (??), except I spit hotter than saten
I weigh you , any rapper that you know, I break 'em
Do it like a hustler: cut 'em up and bake 'em
Gimme a pen. A pad. N' a beat.
And I'll cook you that sh*t that you love to eat

[Chorus]
Gotta keep on writing,
gotta keep on spitting
till the whole world know who I am
Gotta shut these rappers down,
gotta hit 'em with the sound,
cos they all know it ain't no f**king thang
Cos Milot eat rap, Milot sleep rap
So you know I'm straight sh*tting on the game
All that sh*t they talking bout
they jus sh*tting out thier mouth
Cos I really don't hear what they sayin'