Chyeeea! Ha ha ha ha, you know we had to do it again right? It’s the Return of The Bad Man. I got em.

Yo, it’s nothing new don’t get confused, the flow is unmistakeable apparently it’s hateable but talent’s not debateable/ you back with the blessed yeah you back with the best (yes!)/ it’s The Bad Man, nothing less heck did you expect?/ I’m not known for being modest don’t go complimenting me bro (nah)/ I’ve got a lovely flow I think it complements my ego (ha ha)/ a thousand miles to go and still I’m coming up from below run a hundred miles or so I’m never turning back to zero (never)/ work to stack dinero till I boss it like Pacino never play the mobster role but I can hustle like a hero (chyea)/ maximum libido blows a track like a torpedo I’m exploding on the scene and can’t nobody call a veto (chyeeea!)/ They’re calling me a savage, I’d hate to be the average Zuby’s got the raddest deoxyribonucleic acid (chyeeea!)/ so blame it on genetics physically I’m too athletic lyrically I’m so poetic make em sicker than emetics (eww!)

CHORUS

Ayo I’m sick call me (Bad Man)
Cuz I spit like a (Bad Man)
And I move like a (Bad Man)
And I’m smooth like a (Bad Man)
Y’all don’t like me that’s too (Bad Man)
Wanna hate that’s too (Bad Man)
Compared to me you just (Bad Man)
It ain’t my fault you just (Bad Man)

Ayo I’m sick call me (Bad Man)
Cuz I spit like a (Bad Man)
And I move like a (Bad Man)
And I’m smooth like a (Bad Man)

Are you down with Zuby? Let’s go get em again.

They know my style they love my rhymes it’s like a gift and a curse/ cuz they rewind so many times they know my scripts in reverse (ok)/ so when I try to rap forward, they never sing it back to me I’m going over heads like ‘dope fricking I’m did I what see’ (damn)/ Think I’m not brolic? (woo!) Homes I can’t call it/ but in the booth and gym I’m propping bars like alcoholics (chyeeea!)/ I’m like a hundred grand in cash without a fricking wallet cuz i can’t afford to spend it and I can’t afford to haul it/ if I said that I was average (hmm) I’d be a little liar (ha ha)/ so ask me bout my music and I’ll say I’m spitting fire/ and telling me I’m dope is just like preaching to the choir no I’m not my biggest fan but I would cry if I retired/ and I don’t even drink cuz life is trippy when I’m sober/ sometimes I hate the game but I’ll be in it till it’s over (chyea)/ for now I’m chasing fame so I’ma roam like Motorola till I’ve got a billion fans and bigger brand than Coca-Cola

CHORUS

Go hard or go home.

It’s acid that I’m seeping out the fountain of my speaking/ like pyroclastic creeping through the mountain while you’re sleeping try to block me while I’m dreaming and I’ll rock you while your scheming/ leave your doubt in A&E and kill your spite over the weekend (damn)/ to rappers I’m a threat they keep my music in the stash/ hide my CD from your girl I might seduce her with a track (ha ha)/ She listened to my album now she thinks you’re kind of wack (chyea)/ your girl is like virginity she’s never coming back (ooh)/ if you’re having girl problems I feel bad for you son/ I’ve got 99 problems but a honey isn’t one (nah)/ they come and go like exes I’ve got bigger things to stress/ texting me to beat again and I ain’t even JLS (chyeeea!)/ L’Oreal I’m worth it verse perfected to a T/ no I never said I’m perfect but I’m good at being me/ I’m the dopest demonstrator, oral administrator, microphone detonator dominate like Devastator/ stay stacked ready for action, strapped ready to blast ‘em with a lyrical shotty, point blank blow back your body

CHORUS

Chyeeea! We did it again! The Bad Man is back in full effect. Version 2.0, bigger, better, faster, stronger. Hold tight everybody who’s been supporting me. Are you down with Zuby? Yo I’m out of here man. You can talk all you want I’m just gonna stay in my lane.