…I’ve never had a dream in my life,
Because a dream is what you wanna do, but still haven’t pursued.
I knew what I wanted, and did it till it was done.
So I’ve been the dream I wanted to be since Day One.
…Had dreams of fancy cars and limos,
And all I wanted was somebody to listen to my demo.
Fuck Batman and Robin: I’m robbin’ with a bat, man.
I’m somethin’ serious like Crips that bust gats,
Ignorant with it like Bloods that bust back.
You’re lookin’ at the Fridge, I’m the rookie.
I may be large, but I’m no dumb cookie.
You’ve seen me hit, you’ve seen me run,
When I kick and pass, we’ll have more fun.
I can dance, you will see,
The others, they all learn from me.
I don’t come here lookin’ for trouble,
I just came here to do the Super Bowl Shuffle.
Although I hit a pound of herbs, I’m still nice with the verbs.
So fuck what ya heard.
Your whole vocabulary’s played out, admit it.
Still wack if it came out my mouth and I spit it.
I call you once…you never dialed back.
Twice…you never dialed back.
Saturday morning, live, I’m on Soul Train, talkin’ to Don Cornelius.
Saturday night, my phone rings…
Saturday night, I won’t answer.
Saturday night, my phone rings again…
Saturday night, I don’t answer.
When I hit the skins they all say, ‘Damn Kane…
You knock out the Bush like a presidential campaign!’
God damn! Drug dealers dealin’ to the kiddies,
Livin’ in the city ain’t no pity on the itty-bitty.
We try to cry, but still they all die,
I try to speak to the youth, and the truth is: they all high.
The mind tricks the body,
Body thinks the mind is crazy…
According to Guru (RIP): “Streetwise poetry and turntable wizardry.”- from “Flip the Script,” off of Gang Starr’s Daily Operation, 1992
I don’t feel pain cause it’s all in the mind,
And what’s mines is mines and yours is mine!
I never ever ran from the Ku Klux Klan, and I shouldn’t have to run from a black man.
I find it’s distressin’, there’s never no in-between:
We either niggaz or kings,
We either bitches or queens.
The deadly ritual seems immersed in the perverse,
Full of short attention spans, short tempers, and short skirts.
When I need bread, I grab the toaster and stick niggas for they crumbs.
I’m from Jerz, the home of: “I could’ve swore I parked my car right here!”
I know how it feels to wake up fucked up,
Pockets broke as hell, another rock to sell.
People look at you like you’s the user,
Selling drugs to all the losers, mad buddha abuser.
But they don’t know about the stress-filled day…
Baby on the way, mad bills to pay,
That’s why you drink Tanqueray,
So you can reminisce and wish
You wasn’t living so devilish, shit.
They say jealousy is a serious disease.
So I’mma say a prayer for you dudes,
Hope you motherfuckers get well soon.
You got a man? That’s somethin we will talk about.
He’s smart enough to have ya, but dumb enough to let ya out.
Pull down the shades on the windows of your soul,
And gaze into your mind and watch the wisdom unfold…
Rosa Parks sat so Martin Luther could walk,
Martin Luther walked so Barack Obama could run,
Barack Obama ran so all the children could fly…
So, I’mma spread my wings, you can meet me in the sky.
…Not to mention, I take authority horribly.
Fuck a job, nigga, that conversation just bores me.
Friday the 13th…I’mma play Jason!
It don’t make sense: either you a soldier from the start,
Or a actor with a record deal tryin’ to play the part.
Fuck a moment of silence…I need a moment of violence.
You can call it hell…
But I say it’s below the heavens.
A forty and a blunt, that’s all she really wants.
Life is real, reality is not a dream.
Those who chose to sleep…I wake em up,
Cause you’re sleepin with your mouth open hummin deez nuts.
Look past the garbage, over the trains,
Under the ruins, through the remains,
Around the crime and pollution,
And tell me…where I fit in?
Why is it a honey act like she don’t want to be bothered?
But after the tappin’, she yappin’ like she want her children fathered?
Two years ago, a friend of mine
Asked me to say some MC rhymes.
So I said this rhyme I’m about to say
The rhyme was def a’ then it went this way…
I wanna lie to you sometimes…but I can’t.
I wanna tell you that it’s all good…but it ain’t.
Every time the ball drop on New Year’s Eve,
We toast to more money, we smoke to more cheese…
Mental energy from within keeps me higher,
Than anything rolled and set on fire
A rap pro, do a show, good to go, also
Cameo afro, Virgo, domino, I go Rambo,
Gigolo, Romeo, Friday night spend money on a ho…tel,
To get a good night’s sleep, I’m keeping in step.
Now do I come off? Yep.
You can play with the bass, fuck around with the treble,
Or you can play with the base, and turn powder to pebble.
‘That buck that bought the bottle coulda struck the lotto.’
To invest in scratch tickets is a fucked up motto.
You might win some, but you just lost one.
If you can’t respect that, your whole perspective is wack.
Maybe you’ll love me when I fade to black.
Linguine linguistics that left my verbal essence saucy,
Send a message, leave you sleepin’ next to headless horsey.
Lookin down the barrel of a gun, son of gun, son of a bitch, gettin paid, gettin rich!
Smell the pinetrees in the air, sleigh bells are ringing,
Toy stores are out of control, and kids singing.
That night before Christmas, dashing through the snow,
Rudolph the Reindeer, red nose that glow.
It’s all about the candy canes and Christmas list,
North Pole and that chubby, jolly, old Saint Nick,
The little elves getting busy, in Santa workshop
And how gingerbread men keep they buttons on top.
Wooden soldiers and chestnuts, roasting like marshmallows
Goodfellas, chocolate pudding pops and Jell-O’s.
It’s the gift, the cookies and milk on the mantle,
The mistletoe, that scent from that peppermint candles,
That warm French vanilla, mean coat with zippers,
Bareskin robe dragon with Versace slippers.
Around the fireplace we breathe, shirts are short sleeve,
We stayin’ up all night on Christmas Eve!
Do some good to the ghetto, Mr. Kris Kringle.
Come and stay awhile, kick it with God’s Angels.
Take and acknowledge my wisdom and understand
That Santa Claus is a black man.
‘You Hollywood.’ Nah, nigga, I’m Chicago.
So I cracked his head with a muthafuckin bottle.