you are going to meet hope.......
misunderstood from birth
born pisces flow soon to captivate the heavens and the earth
likeliwood came forth so that you wormbooks i unearth
more than they weight in gold be what my bars worth
got close with clenched a fist made a direct hit
exposed the blood of the tick sucker free yet mad public
some things will never change statistically
eradicate ma**es for you even adjust to think mathematically
do i have to be national somewhat like family bonds
in order to be honoured with a statue sculpted in fashinable bronze
raised without a silver teaspoon still attached to the senses
sense it as i prune your mind and soul dispatched sentences
make soulmates miss they periods like non periodical comets
stick a cock in her mouth the second that bitch vomits
a goodbye kiss before a part of you your being omits
make sure after the performance her drums nice and heavy
remember as you about to lock crotches and swap gravy
you get wet up get your weight up like the 3rd world navy
Ghetto niggaz struttin' with nothin' but dreams and Queens broke
Mack-10's, you can smell the PCP smoke
Mele Mel told it real in the music he wrote
Those were the days I remember
We used to be close, then I was nine, coldest winter I remember
Was slippin' in December, two feet of snow
Yeah, that's the East Coast, that black ice
Symbolized the rap life
It was slick and smooth
I understood I had to come from the hood
Doin' the Pee Wee Herman, the Smurf
Before them phones chirped
The block's drugs flowin', didn't have your own work
You had to have somebody else's, a small chrome on your pelvis
Starter Jacket, Blue Georgetown or Green Celtic
Your girl's too expensive, she wants shellfish
Red Lobster was poppin', standin' on that line forever
I wish somebody would step on my Bally leather's
Now it's whatever... hip-hop's forever
Kept my radio on 98 or BLS
Had a pre-pubescent lyric gift but niggaz never hear me spit
My little brother tried to warn 'em, I was a tornado comin'
He knew from inside, like the eye of a storm
And told my pops about it
He gave us tickets to that Wild Style flick
Double Trouble, retarded, we was the proudest
I never had a summer job
Sweepin' leaves, socks to my knees
Homemade shorts cutoff, Lee's
I ain't work a day in my life
Wipin' away eraser of the paper man
I'm just tryin' to say it right
Big radio, tape slowin' down
Lower the lights go, battery dead
I gotta freeze 'em 'til they ice cold
In the freezer later, I'm starin' at the speaker
Sunk in them 808's deeper, cleanin' my sneakers
Wit the bristles of a toothbrush, soap and water
I let the shoe strings soak in water...
Ain't got nothin' to do wit old school, new school
Dirty South, West Coast, East Coast
This about us, this our thing, 'knaw'sayin'?
This came from the gut, from the blood, from the soul
Right here man, this is our thing man
You know, so I say what I say
And I say what I say, and I mean it
Y'all take it how you wanna take it
Cause if you're askin' - Why is hip-hop dead?
It's a pretty good chance you're the reason it died, man
It's a pretty good chance your lame a**, corny a**, is the reason it died, man
You don't give a f*** about, you don't know nothin' about it
You want this paper, be a hustler
You a hustler, you ain't a rapper
Get your paper man
YouknowwhatI'msayin, but this rap shit is real
Bitch, this shit is real, bitch, ha-ha
« Last Edit: February 27, 2014, 09:01:45 PM by Skattered Thoughtz »
I have no need to prove anything to you. I am merely doing my duty as directed to me. Believe, or do not believe, we r divinely indifferent. I am obliged to complete this task here. The end result is of no consequence 2 me. I will have discharged my duty.
