Bob Ritchie

(albüm: I Ain't Cha Homey - 2009)

Now here's a little story I got to tell
About Esham's Booming Words From Hell
It started way back in the D
With Kid Rock, ICP, and me, Homey
Invented wicked rap 'cause they all were queer
Just me and my brother, and we had no fear
Riding 'cross the land, kicking up sand
Spitting wicked shit, getting paid, I'm in demand
One lonely Homey I be
All about myself without nobody
The sun is beating down on my baseball hat
My paint flip flop, my screens fall flat
Looking for the roof, I look up at the sky
Make the girls say "howdy" 'cause we just so high

"Aah! I'm Kid Rock! I like 'caine and pills
I ain't fucking with no niggas, and I'm fucking up deals
Now what do we have here, out in your rap career
I run this land, you understand, I make myself clear"
He stepped into the wind, he had a gun and a grin
You think this story's over, but it's ready to begin

Now, I got the gun, you got the proof
You got two choices of what you can do
It's not a deposition as you can see
I could blow you away or you could ride with me
I said I'll ride with you if you can get me to the border
The sheriff's after me with his homeboy two quarters
I'm smoking that piff, they smoking that crack
They stole all my styles and raps

Attention, please, the kid said, get ready, this ain't funny
My name's Shady, I'm about to get money
[?] said hold up, hands in the sky
Y'all stick 'em up and let two fly
Hands went up when people hit the floor
He wasted one more kid that ran for the door thought he was horrorcore (Shady)
I'm Violent J and I get respect
Your cash and your jewelry is what I expect
If you fuck with Homey the Clown, I'll break your neck
Laughing all your way to the bank, cashing these checks