I left my Phillie at home,
Do you have another?
I wanna get blunted, my brother.
Smooth B, “DWYCK,” from Gang Starr’s Hard to Earn, 1994
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I left my Phillie at home,
Do you have another?
I wanna get blunted, my brother.
I’m no slave to a rhythm, I whip it,
Then I take its name and change its religion,
Then I chop the foot off the fuckin’ beat
For trying to escape the track, now it’s obsolete.
So why you pushin’ it? Why you lyin’ for? I know where you live,
I know your folks, you was a sucka as a kid.
Your persona’s drama that you acquired in high school in actin’ class,
Your whole aura is plexiglass.
What’s-her-face told me you shot this kid last week in the park;
That’s a lie, you was in church with your moms.
Fake MC’s – they always act hard
But won’t walk the streets without their bodyguards.
Niggas is decaf, I stick ‘em for the C.R.E.A.M.
Rappers can’t sleep, need sleepin’,
B.I.G. keep creepin’,
Bullets heat-seekin’,
Casualties need treatin’,
Dumb rappers need teachin’.
I’m like an eclipse on a Friday the 13th,
With black cats and Haley’s Comet,
Blazin’ blunts in my driveway…
Lemonade was a popular drink and it still is;
I get more props and stunts than Bruce Willis.
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.
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.
A born terror, a rebel without a pause…
Ain’t never had a good Christmas, so who is Santa Claus?
Damn right I like the life I live,
Cause I went from negative to positive.
See, seventy percent of the world’s underwater,
Seventy percent of your body’s underwater,
Seventy percent of what we live is out of range,
We rearrange this order, but niggaz think it’s strange.
Keepin’ this effervescent street ghetto essence inside us
Cause it provides us with the proper insight to guide us
Dwellin’ in the Rotten Apple, you get tackled.
Or caught by the devil’s lasso…shit is a hassle.
The more emotion I put into it, the harder I rock.
I met this girl when I was ten years old,
And what I loved most she had so much soul.
She was old school, when I was just a shorty
Never knew throughout my life she would be there for me.
I bathe in basslines, rinse in riffs, dry in drums
I’m a addict for sneakers, twenties of buddah and bitches with beepers.
Back in the days, our parents used to take care of us.
Look at ‘em now…they even fuckin’ scared of us.
Nowadays, you gots ta walk the street and watch your back,
Cause brothers with the gats don’t be knowin’ how to act.
Visualizin’ the realism of life and actuality,
Fuck who’s the baddest, a person’s status depends on salary.
On the reals, all these crab niggaz know the deal,
When we start the revolution, all they’ll probably do is squeal.
Peep what I wrote;
You bit so hard, I thought your shit was a quote.
Imagine peace on this earth when there’s no grief,
Imagine grief on this earth when there’s no peace.
I never let the worst things in life get the best of me.
So take these testes and, ummm…open sesame.
There are few things that’s forever, my lady.
We can make war or make babies.
(Peace!) Piece of what?
You can’t mean P-E-A-C-E
Cause I’ve seen people on the streets
Shoot the next man and turn around and say ‘peace.’
But that’s leaving people in pieces
It’s not what the meaning of peace is.
Battle physically, conquer mentally.
Lyrically def and connecting, complete mic-wrecking…
No double-checking, vocals kill like weapons.
I know the price, know the risk, know the wrongs and the rights;
Still my blood flows ice…it’s just my life.
Life’s a bitch and then you die.
That’s why we get high,
Cause you never know when you’re gonna go.
Fuck the world, don’t ask me for shit,
Everything you get you gotta work hard for it.
Honeys shake your hips, you don’t stop,
And niggas pack the clips, keep on…
They say signs of the end is near;
I wonder…can I walk a righteous path holding a beer?
I’m a true master, you can check my credentials
Cause I choose to use my infinite potential.
My duration’s infinite, money-wise or physiology.
It’s for real though, let’s connect, politic…ditto!
We could trade places, get lifted in the staircases,
Word up, peace, incarcerated scarfaces.
You need to git up, git out and git something…
How will you make it if you never even try?
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.
I switched my motto:
Instead of sayin’ ‘Fuck tomorrow,’
That buck that bought a bottle
Coulda struck the Lotto.
Why is the world round?
Why do the suckas bite?
Why do the freaks come out at night?
Why they paint Jesus white?
I sit and wonder why we breakin hip-hop laws,
Doing videos in houses that we know ain’t yours.
I got a lot of things to do, a lot of money to make;
I got no time for you and all the moves you fake.
Life is full of stress and it wrecks my brain,
So I puff the buddha bless and destroy the pain.
I write raps, and when niggas bite, I clap.
Cause their shit sounds better now.
I can’t relate to livin’ less than great.
My motto is: the bigger they are, the more politics involved,
And I revolve at a rate to make your occipital skull plate dissolve.
Techniques delve deep, soooo…don’t sleep, ock, I rock phonics
That got you holdin my dick like your name was Lorena Bobbit.
Alright I might…
Have had a little glare when I stared at ya ho.
But I didn’t know she was like that,
She stared right back!
I’ve been to college, but to be truthfully frank:
Weed is knowledge, cause it makes me think.