Make Room

Used to choose me last
Now they select me first 'cuz I'm ahead of the class
Always pick tha perfect timin', paint a perfect picture, got my
Game down to a science, You could see the threads, and it be
Pokin' out the wires, that mean ya' slippin', need some
New tread on your tires, why you handing out flyers
All that hold me down, ya' know me
Actin' like we homeys when you ain't even my homey
You a tinder phony, I could pluck you like a thistle
When ya' hit the mic, I bet the ref'll call a whistle
'N ya' coach'll have to bench you
Wreck ya' brain up, try'na figure out my mental
And I thought a bunch of rhymes up, I ain't even sharp my pencil
I'm from a side of town where ya' learn ta' duck down
Oh you too pumped up, could get slumped up, and jumped down
Used to take L's, now I'm passin' 'em around
And I don't do C.I.'s, so don't ask me no buss down