“Po MoFo”
Song lyrics written and performed by SHEE
©2005 Sheer Badness Entertainment (ASCAP)

(Intro)
Yeah, SHEE – like it or not, my music is coming, I am coming, coming for you, at you, with you, coming all over the blasted place cover your damn mouth…what!!!

(Verse 1)
Don’t struggle tryna figure out the voice in this song I was a star all along, you just now catching on. I’m ‘gon ruin ‘ya plans – take ‘ya fans, take ‘ya man, I’mma spit it in Ebonics so your ass could understand. Did the debut CD before I went pro to hell with Bonnie & Clyde we out for dollars like we Taffy & Creflo. Perfect the flow, preach a little something to get dough – I’d tell you that I’m gully but you done know. I ain’t ‘bout that passing ‘round a plate for collection, if I gave you weight and ain’t collecting – pass around your block and fill you niggas up with more lead than Zeplin – I’m not the one to mess with you don’t know who you testing. Don’t know why you niggas frontin’ like you got money, everybody know you po’ like the red Teletubbie. Son you lookin’ real stupid to me, you sound funny, learn the difference ‘tween a rap and song ass you ain’t a dummy.

(Hook)
I’m a po mofo and I admit it, you wanna front like you already got it, then you never ‘gon get it. You po (yeah), Me po (yeah), Be po (yeah), We po (nigga yeah) (repeat)

(Verse 2)
(Nigga yeah, uh, c’mon)
Some rappers be in fantasy world, in Wonderland, I’m just tryna understand how you transform magically into a rich man when you be on the mic and how you suddenly forget what your real life like. You be frontin’ like your ass ain’t got a Benefit card, without the free lunch program your ass would starve. Wanna rap about your B.M., we all know referring to you, last letter is X and not W. I don’t think you listening to, what you be spittin’ in your rhymes, only 24’s you spin on, on your mountain bike. But you frontin’ like ice on your arm, rappin’ right in front of me with a $30 name chain you bought at Brooklyn Bargain Bazaar and had the shit on lay-a-way – cop the thing around November put down last May. I’m tryna say, you ain’t even gotta lie, why try, compare your dough to homeless men, it be a tie.

(Verse 3)
Son be tryna play like he already made it and I’m hating but we all from Vanderveer playa, land of the pissy elevators. You rappin’ bout a chick you can’t buck, weight you never ‘gon cut, loot you never ‘gon touch. If the Staten Island Ferry is the only boat you ever been on, shouldn’t hear about a yacht in your song. Dead wrong, all along you got Section 8 and Rickets, rent 53 cents and you getting evicted – have the nerve to wanna be materialistic, just another bandwagon rapper that be spittin bullshit. Know your mommy got checks from WIC, wanna front like King Vitamin ain’t been in ‘ya crib, wanna play as if you live such a glamorous life – back in the day you used to hit the free cheese line twice. Our lifestyles ain’t that different, but out lyrics like night and day, I don’t spit fiction.