atlanta on fire
I'm the next one next one
Motherfuckers can't fuck with me with me
Got a problem shorty come get me
Nah, I ain't Dr. Dre, nah, I ain't Eminem or 50, dog I’m Stat
As I think back, retract, from the classroom to the trap
Freida's only son had to hustle for scraps
It's hard to relax when your wage minimum, bein' broke
Fuck, with my adrenaline before Dre and Eminem
I was trying to get on demo tapes state to state
Performing at clubs and doing whatever it takes
Relying on faith hopin' my dreams take shape
And my fate meeting (?)
I would wait for these A&R’s say I ain’t grind bitch
Spendin' my last dime on this studio time shit
A lot of folk told me I was stupid for trying this
Situation crucial feds off in my climate
Home environment taking pictures of me it was ugly
The spot got hot, scene felt like curry
Had my vision blurry to underground Atlanta
Hit the streets me and Zeke put a plan together
Shorty it's now or never down to do whatever
You see the rainfall came but I had to bear that weather
Look your boy need cheddar like a mill or better
I was fed up but the benefit was worth the effort
I'm patiently waitin', used to get love
Now the same niggas hatin', wanna give me slugs
Partner don't get it separated or twisted, you can't fade it
Stat's the wrong motherfucker to play with, understand me
If you opened up your ears long enough to listen
You may hear what you've been missin' out all of this time
I've been put in a position to put all this in position
So quit your bitchin', learn how to rhyme
Get signed and get your shine
It's like this and like that and, uh, welcome to Statlanta
Shady Aftermath and, uh, a brand new rapper from Atlanta
Who goes by the name of Stat Quo
Introducing our new excuse to keep producin'
Continue to do music, use it and expand it and make rap grow
The hottest new shit on the planet, on a new plateau
But don't confuse it, you don't understand it
Let me break it down for you to show you how we do shit
So that you cats know, this is Statlanta 101
Cause we don't want no one walking out this motherfucker with tunnel vision
So anyone with questions you want answered
Just ask and we'll try to unmask them and maybe explain why so few cats blow
Just spit the truth when you get in this booth and do that though
That there boy hot to death, you already knew that though
Is he the greatest from the ATL, we got haters all day to debate us
So we'll just say this: he's one of them not to tackle
I got caviar wishes, box Chevy dreams
CD covers, TV screens
The booth or the block, might go to triple beam
I'mma make it right, hear me, huh huh huh
Fuck what your saying, God put me here to shine
Going on tour or white collar crime
The rhyme or the grind, MPC or the nine
I'mma make it, I need mine, huh huh huh
I can care less, fuck yall, you don't make or break me
Real niggas love me, pussy niggas hate me
Down bitches ride for Stat Quo, they know
The A-Town D Young County be trill folk
Didn't no other label offer me no deal
Till they found out Shady/Aftermath was interested
Then they started to beg, want the truth, there it is
This ain't a gimmick, this the south and I be that kid
Just ride through watching lines of his rhymes
In time you're going to find you're on a great trip
Ain't a word I could life be some extraordinary shit
The piece of the puzzle that fit, it's Stat Quo, you son of a bitch