Lyrics Linkin Park – I Have Not Begun (2009 Demo)

Ladies and gents, sorry to keep ya’ll waiting
This goes out to everybody still hating
For those that fake, ya’ll can keep on fakin’
I’m cooking a plate for you to stick your whole face in

Tastes good, don’t it, cousin?
Just so you know it’s nothin’
I get you buggin’ like some codeine in some Robitussin
It’s just the way that I approach each time
I slap the track and turn around and choke each rhyme

Broadcast to the nation like NBC
With pages of 16s like an MPC
Deliver an ass-whipping via MP3
Giving you people more reality than MTV

Do it PPV
Snap necks with the pressure
Make a mess
Then carry you out on a stretcher
You could sue, but—ooh—the law won’t protect ya
Even the court room sketcher could not sketch ya

You’re not following me
Got your number like Caller ID
Try it, you can holler at me
I promise you pain
I will chop your body in threes
And you’ll be sitting there stuttering, «Proba-bably.»

Follow me
I got styles
You can copy one
Back of your mind
I know you wanna stop me, son

I’m grinding
Putting these kids to bed
You think you’re hard-boiled
Fucker, you’re an Easter egg
You got a pastel shell and a soft inside
Squash your pride
You think I fucking lost my mind
I’m not playing

I might as well be making a bomb
I lay you down to foundation when I’m taking you on
Bet the farm on the rhyme for the sake of my mom
She’s like,
«Mike, show these pigs what kind of bacon you’re on.»

It’s funny but don’t laugh
Money with no cash
The villain of vocab
I’m killing this notepad
The realest I wrote man
You don’t even know half
I’m banking a full tank
You’re running on low gas

Take that
I’m cutting off your fun
You’re nothing but a butter knife stopping a gun
We can dance but your chances are slim to none
And you can think that I am finished I have not begun

Got a razor-blade tongue and I get this done
No running just dumping on your clique for fun
Machine Shop got it locked like the game’s a joke
Say something funny get the whole gang provoked

Better buckle down, fucker
Go get your own
We been working ten years just to get this known
The people on the block starting to get numb
They expect that it’s fresh when the new shit come

Here it goes, let ’em know they can fix the frown
Railroad rap hot tracks running you down
And they ask and repeat how I do this now
Like I’m really gonna tell ’em how I get this sound

We just do what we do, give you that fix
We come in the back like we run this bitch
Turn the lights down low
And we start the show
When I give it to ya
Give it right back and it goes

Take that
Take that
Cutting off your fun
You’re nothing but a butter knife stopping a gun
We can dance but your chances are slim to none
You can think that I am finished I have not begun

Follow me
I got styles
You can copy one
Back of your mind
I know you wanna stop me son
But here’s news for you fucker: that can not be done
You can think that I am finished I have not begun