I said, ‘What you wanna be?’ She said, ‘Alive.’
It made me think for a minute, then looked in her eyes
…I coulda died.
I met a gypsy and she hipped me to some life game,
To stimulate, then activate the left and right brain.
Said, ‘Baby boy, you only funky as your last cut.
You focus on the past, your ass’ll be a has-what.’
That’s one to live by, or either that’s one to die to.
Fuck movin’ mountains, I move planets and leave you Earthless.
Terror Squad: the worst that hurt shit, split your universes.
I know you don’t wanna hear my opinion,
There come many paths and you must choose one.
And if you don’t change then the rain soon come.
See, you might win some, but you just lost one.
From open mics to solutions, I got a collage of answers,
And a 10-point program, just like the Black Panthers:
1: First, respect yourself as an artist
If you don’t respect yourself, then your rhymes is garbage.
2: Make sure your crew is as tight as you
Cause when them niggaz fallin off, they gonna bring you down too.
3: Understand the meaning of MC
The power to Move the Crowd like Moses split the seas.
4: Know your shit and don’t ever be blunted
If you don’t know what your words mean, then your rhymes mean nothin.
5: Kick facts in the raps, and curse with clarity
What’s a curse when language is immersed in vulgarity?
6: We gonna fix industrial poli-tricks
Shit, they made an art form out of ridin dicks.
7: We soldiers for God needin new recruits
So if you rhymin for the loot, then you’s a prostitute.
8: Acknowledge that you need food on your plate
In order to say your grace, make sure your business is straight.
9: We buildin black minds with intelligence
And when you freestyle, keep the subject matter relevant.
10: Every MC grab a pen
And write some conscious lyrics to tell the children.
We missed a lot of church, so the music is our confessional.
I’ve been layin’, waiting for your next mistake,
I put in work, and watch my status escalate.
The snake, the rat, the cat, the dog…
How you gonna see ‘em if you livin’ in the fog?
We live in a society created by an empire
That’s based on terror…welcome to the One World Era,
A complete interruption to your lil’ paltry-ass life,
That you thought you was livin, and what you been given.
Others tell like it is, while I tell it how I would like it to be.
This thing called rhymin’ is no different than coal minin’;
We both on assignment to unearth the diamond.
Mark you for death, won’t even talk that East or West crap.
From Watts to Lefrak, it ain’t where ya from, it’s where’s your gat.
Consider me the entity within the industry without a history of spitting the epitome of stupidity.
Actions have reactions, don’t be quick to judge,
You may not know the hardships people don’t speak of.
It’s best to step back, and observe with couth,
For we all must meet our Moment of Truth.
…The greatest rapper of all time died on March 9th.
God bless his soul, rest in peace, kid.
It’s because of him now at least I know what beef is.
Consider youself lucky, that’s what friends say.
Cause I leave more heads touched, son, than Ash Wednesday.
Picture yourself crushin’ Xzibit with your tough talk?
That’s like Christopher Reeve doing the crip walk.
Breathe in…inhale vapors from bright stars that shine,
Breathe out…weed smoke retrace the skyline.
Never become so involved with something that it blinds you.
Never forget where you from; someone will remind you.
Everybody’s got opinions on the way you’re livin’,
But see, they can’t fill your shoes.
Infrareds on little people standing with some big heads,
I was Captain Kirk, walkin’ with a black t-shirt.
LAPD, the nurse asked did my knee hurt?
I was in pain, little Martians tryin’ ta take my brain,
Hospitals came, detectives wrote down my name.
I was to blame, my life never been the same.
A true story; I tell ya, it’ll never bore me.
My classmate died, my other friend named Cory
Drinkin’ 40s, he jumped out the project window,
Stabbed himself with a yellow number 2 pencil.
There’s so many wack rappers out here, I don’t know where to aim at.
New York, New York, big city of dreams,
Where there’s nothing but foreign cars, bitches, and triple beams.
If I should die this very day,
Don’t cry…cause on Earth
We wasn’t meant to stay.
Fuck Batman and Robin: I’m robbin’ with a bat, 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.
You might win some, but you just lost one.
I leave scientists mentally scarred,
Triple Extra Large,
Wild like rock stars who smash guitars…
They say it’s lonely at the top, in whatever you do,
You always gotta watch motherfuckers around you.
Nobody’s invincible, no plan is foolproof,
We all must meet our Moment of Truth.
Get wreck in the kitchen like she on the Cooking Channel,
And then hide the heat in the car door…
God damn, she’s a mother-to-be, ya hope for twins,
Give me a whole tribe!
And be as sexy as Janet was on the cover of Vibe.
Holocaust, black man, lose veins, littered with thorns
Back smack you so hard, all your seeds will be formed deformed.
Swarm dorms, sting birds, fling verbs like mean curbs
Strike three, mics flee, I infect em with green germs, ringworm
Life is a blast when you know what you’re doin’,
Best to know what you’re doin’ ‘fore your life get ruined.
Life is a thrill when your skill is developed,
If you ain’t got a skill or trade, then shut the hell up.
Never been to Sesame Street but I flip a Big Bird.
And I know “stealers” and they not from Pittsburgh…
And to the shorties on the block, tryin’ to twist 40 tops,
Get your act together, do some carpentry with a Black & Decker,
And stop speedin like a Kawasaki…
It’s war on the streets and a war in the Middle East
Instead of war on poverty, they got a war on drugs
So the police can bother me…
Life without knowledge is death in disguise.
I stay dipped like the first day of school.
You don’t wanna hear the truth, so I’ma lie to you…make it sound fly to you.