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"Outta Control" lyrics by CHRIS MILES
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"Outta Control"

Check it I'm back with it
They tell me money talk I'm bout my business
Rap the illest slappin critics whoever doubted my image
Double the average, more drive than a black civic past the limit
Smashing writtens on these tracks yo raddest disses couldn't touch the kid and I ain't talkin pedophiles
Fed up with the same shit that's why I gotta different style
These lyrics paint a picture living a dream of being the biggest out
I be so official tell them haters call me Mr. Miles
You could tell they in denial they ain't believe I'm too nice
Tell em to get a blues clues this youngin is a new sight
They told me I never would earn this spot now I see them dudes lie
Only 14 but they know he is on that real grind I stay fly
Like delta even the elders say I'm nasty
I ain't no backpack rapper I run the game like an athlete
Me and rock gotcho speakers blasting back to back I'm actually
A mother f-ing beast up on a beat I spit it rapidly let's get it tho

With 2 verses get dudes hurting up in they membranes
That pen game so wicked kicking rhymes like I'm yo sensai
Chop chop you daniel sons don't compare to my shit bro
And yea I'm goin off I can see that's why they pissed doe
Get it man prolly not cause I'm too complex
Killing instrumentals mentally now who gon next
Yo I used to be a loser now I gotta crew on deck
And we gon take over the planet takin advantage of this madness yo
Up in the studio stupid flows out la boca
I'm going over the edge and I swear to God I'm the coldest
The youngest emcee to get it I betchu I never stop
I'm destine to straight up stack all this guap and get to the top
Don't be concerned with the pigment just focus on some my content
When I rhyme shit it's like bombs that be dropping on vietnam it's
Ridiculous verbs murder these lames off real quick
T3 til I die and yea homie that's some real shit

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