Written by Kitch
Produced by Dele Christie
These Rappers
Chorus
These rappers, can't even rhyme a word
These rappers, don't know what lie you heard
These rappers:
Can't compare to me, with no air to breathe, it's unfair to see
Verse 1
All you brothers sound the same riding trends
Making songs for girls ‘cause they’ll be hyping them
But I stand out like there’s no seats left
‘Cause I’m more lyrical than anyone who be next
So just fake it ‘till you make it, how ‘bout no
It’s so blatant that your basic, how ‘bout smoke
I’m tryna stay real in the game field
my aim will make brains peel make your ego pain filled
I decline me time and peace signs for these rhymes
I design each line I'm behind the east side
People are telling me that my rhyming's sick
But I need to have Faith like Evans if I’ll be B.I.G
I know you bigger rappers heard of me but you fail to recognise
‘Cause you know your careers are something I'm gonna jeopardise
So become a friend, or be on my hit list
And witness the litness first hand ima grip this
My mouths loaded, and my words are the bullets
So I guess my tongues what, I use to pull it
So battling me, wouldn’t fit well
You won’t have to dig in the crates to find that Big L
And you might as well feed yourself as a sharks snack
Don’t read my notes I’ll stab you with a sharp flat
Get it? Notes, flats, sharps, no?
Why don’t you just go home
Chorus
These rappers, can't even rhyme a word
These rappers, don't know what lie you heard
These rappers:
Can't compare to me, with no air to breathe, it's unfair to see
Verse 2
I’m just white trash who, likes rap and
fights back on, tight tracks true
Can you stand back please catch that breeze
Abstract these, raps with ease
You can’t rap so free in my category, backpack please with the blackjack p’s
Snapback G’s nah that’s not me, fitted flat cap please
Alright, hold on
Let me say I can spit for days and rip the waves in different ways
Too busy getting paid just quit in case you slip and graze
Your lip and face flows sticks in place fits the pace vicious phase
Ima hit the stage so let me get a sicker raise
I will let fly my best rhyme like Tech N9ne
Invest time your next line don’t vex mine
Watch heads fly your neck spine go bed bye
I bet I’m the blessed kind your dead prime
No way can people tell me I use to same flow
I’m a lame bloke, when you’re a virgin like Usain Bolt
The mandem used to tell me to stop spitting
‘Cause they judged me on the way that I looked like an optician
But you’re still doubting me, just wait for it
I used to get fined for spitting, but now I get paid for it
And rightly so, ‘cause I’m a true wordsmith
And I gotta prove nothing, ‘cause you heard it
Chorus
These rappers, can't even rhyme a word
These rappers, don't know what lie you heard
These rappers:
Can't compare to me, with no air to breathe, it's unfair to see
About 'These Rappers'
'These Rappers' is what Kitch would call a 'lyrical showcase'. Whilst using complex rhyme schemes, witty punchlines and experimenting with new and different flows, Kitch explains what he thinks of the rappers who are currently 'popping' without the use of lyricism.
Standout Lyric:
'I need to have Faith like Evans if I'll be B.I.G'
Release Date:
07/09/2019
