Cover art for Real Death of Autotune by Prince Ea

Real Death of Autotune

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Real Death of Autotune Lyrics

I'm on my Soulja Boy shit, but a lot sicker
I tell ya girl, "Kiss me through the phone, baby," I put a bomb in it
Time ticking, I'm locking the doors
Don't go to the closet, I already got your mom in there, tied to the floor
My girl wants me to be more positive
It's not gonna happen, a positive rapper
What I gotta be positive for?
I pay homage to gang violence
Ride around with a fake license
Picking up chicks and giving them the AIDS virus
I make my way but day by day, it's the same problems
Somebody tell Asher fucking Roth, I hate college
Yesterday Charles Hamilton asked me to play Sonic
I strangled him with the Sega Genesis cord till he was unconscious
Thank God most of these niggas spittin' are terrible
Cause I ain't even that good, I'm just good by comparison
I ain't wrote a rhyme in 5 years, I'm still relevant
5 years and your rhyme skills are still embarrassing
Learn from the Nephilim
I don't shit on rappers
My stomach acid dissolves 'em before they turn to excrement
Its rhetoric, it's sicker than a pestilence
I'm sicker than a chick dancing in the club, 9 months pregnant
I'm sick enough to make you start barfing on your man
Shit I'm sicker than farting in your hand, and smelling it
It's incredible these whack nigga's that be rapping, b
Nobody with talent and no originality
Everybody's talking about swag, and that's sad to me
Cos I had swag when they called it personality

They heard my tracks and they gotta search for strategies
I'm sounding like Lamont Coleman or early Cassidy
He got the total package but, why he ain't battling?
Let me say this emphatically
Number 1, ain't no individual nigga on this earth worth a rap from me
Number 2, battling that ain't my niche dog
I respect them nigga's they be spitting them sick bars
But you really think Murda Mook is making a hit song?
Get lost, them nigga's run into a brick wall
You think they gonna pop, but nah they don't even discharge
It's been hard I've been trying to make it
But now I'm finally famous, yeah big up to big sean

But I'm still picking up them crumbs
Still waiting for the gold rush to come
Still broke, what a bum
They say I'm sick as fuck
Cos man I'm sick enough, to finger fuck your girl with a Joe Budden thumb
Low budget scum, I ain't got no effing class
My only reason for rapping, is to get you mad
And I ain't gonna let you pass
The kind of guy to fuck Drake's girl and tell her she the best I ever had
I'm in your crib rocking the same mask that Freddy has
How you gonna use auto tune, when your neck is slashed
The best player don't check his stats
He just goes in to kill them in the first and the second half
I knock down them shots that you afraid to take
Its as plain as day, no rapper can contain him, he's dangerous
So the only way that you can play him straight
You gotta get Jay back down to his playing weight

My flow is something like a Rafer play
Sometime I gotta smack these nigga's in they heads til' it shake they face
And everyone saying I'm making cake
Now that's funny I got about as much money as my label mates
I'm unsigned but fuck a deal
I want rap city in the basement back, homie
Fuck the deal, I don't even want a deal
Cos these nigga's that want a deal
They try to play ya, get ya fucked for a couple mil
They try to rape ya, aha
My pops sat me down and told me, Richard
Never tip the waiter before a meal
And that's on the real, I don't trust you suckers still
I'm on my own grind now, I keep that duffel filled
Prince Ea love the kids, like a father do
But this is more than love, this is child abuse
Homie I wouldn't lie to you
But you a funny ass example of what not to do, like rocking a chopper suit
This shit is comical, until I let that weapon spark
The mac will sizzle whats black and little, like Kevin Hart
Kalashnikov 47 rip your chest apart
Tie you to these decent clowns screaming "I don't check the charts"
I don't how much you sold or if your crew is signed
This is 300, numbers mean nothing its do or die
A lot of nigga's gonna lose they minds
Because it's simple I don't wanna end careers, I wanna ruin lives
And I don't want to kill you, I want you to choose to die
And since you faggots like to blog that'll suit you fine
You could be the first person in the fucking world to twitter they own suicide

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