Infinity F.u.'s Lyrics

Yeah, you too mothaf*cka
Yeah, to the whole rap game: f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
Cats showing no shame, so f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
Man if you gotta use my name, to get yourself a little fame
Then you're a loser anyway, f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
That Morty Gold shit's weak, f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
Even the old shit's sweat, so f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
And Granite grows gritty beats, while the whole city sleeps
So if you're just waking up, then f*ck you! (f*ck you!)

Eyyo, remember when you showed love, before you had a big mouth
When you were just a noname, before you put your shit out
Before you went to bitch rap, before the dough got ya
And turned hiphop into a f*cking soap opera
More and more drama, I've been tripping all week
Because these kids all think that their shit don't stink
Chill, don't speak, you ain't signing autographs
Y'all should be slanging tapes, out a f*cking garbage bag
Hardest ever fag on a track acting phoney
You made a rap record and wanted to act like you know me
You want me to do a cut with you, chill and smoke a blunt with you
And be my little buckaroo, but I don't even f*ck with you
And it ain't nothing new, you dance for a docket
And you all playahate each other like lobsters in a bucket, f*ck it!
And to my peers, I just wanna hear flows, it appeal to my ears
But nobody hears close, you wanna hear it, here it goes, f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
You hiphop-heroes, f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
You cats with big egos
And all you f*cking weirdos, spitting words you can't spell f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
That's all you'll ever get from me, f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
Yeah, till infinity, f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
The Internet, the industry, the radio ain't shit to me
Y'all can all go to hell, f*ck you (f*ck you!)

Eyyo, I press 500 tapes, gave away a stack of 'em
I'm broke but the bootleggers probably went platinum
So Morty's coming after them, pissed and disgusted
I hope you catch AIDS, I hope you get your shit busted
Stacking no chips, you wonder why I'm so pissed
You so rich, and all up in my pockets like a broke bitch
Subliminal, it's no diss, f*ck it then, so is this
Two words and both fists
I pull cards like “Go Fish”, dead on I don't miss
Man I can't hold back, rap on your own risk
Don't get your dome cracked
Man I just won't pack my hard-heard bucks
And I didn't cop your new CD, but I heard it sucked
And every spot I go to, it's just the same shit again
Watch whose name you whispering
Don't think that I ain't listening, get some recognition Watch your momma start hating, it's the he-say-she-say
I refuse to partaken
And to the writers start painting, f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
And till the bomb end in breaking, f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
And to all you rappers faking, take that money that you're making
And go buy yourself a heart, f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
Yo, what's this beefing all about? f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
I'm the wrong cat to doubt, f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
Just put your wack ass album out, and keep my name up out your mouth
And everything will be gravy, f*ck you! (f*ck you!)

Yea yea, you like to pop a lot of crack
That's why nobody got your back
And you don't even got a gat
I hope your ass gets shot for that
You got the nerves to wonder why I screw face you fruitcakes
You're too fake, and you don't even like that bullshit you make
It's not in your new tape, it's not how you spit (uh-uh)
It's all in what you got, and whose dick you suck to get it
Your rhymes: despicable, punchlines: predictable
Man, any kind of criminal would beat that ass on principle
You ain't never been broke, that supposed to be some sick joke?
Expecting heads to buy it, when you lie with every pen stroke?
I see it in your eyes, I can't help but criticize
You ain't no murderer unless you count killing eyes
And every time you're in my eye, you're caught up in a different lie
You bunch of pussies wish I died, but I got bigger fish to fry
Too many names a name, but just on vain your one-two
Play this song for your crew, and say I'm hating on you
But what you're really gonna do, f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
Every single last one of you, f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
You always claim you're number one, but you're less than number two
In other words you ain't shit, f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
You really think you'll match this? f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
You're a damn actress, f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
You got a crew full of fagots, and your heart is Lenny Kravitz
And your bitch got dirty feet, f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
You wanna talk about crime? f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
You're the type to drop dimes, f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
And you can copy down my rhymes, and try to read between the lines
But it all sums up the f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
My name is Morty Goldsteen, f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
I stay up late and don't sleep, f*ck you! (f*ck you!)
I like to chill and smoke weed, and steal shit I don't need
So when you catch me in your crib, f*ck you! (f*ck you!)

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