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Used to have a crush on Dawn from En Vogue.
It’s not like honey dip would wanna get with me,
But just in case I own more condoms than TLC.
Shorty thought she subtle but she really was blatant…
When she shook her thing and violated,
Now these wolf-like thoughts are formulated.
Peace to every single rapper on this whole earth;
Sellouts got no worth…
I think they better go soul search.
Battle physically, conquer mentally.
I’m so def, I need a hearing aid with an equalizer.
They say, ‘Sorry son, accept it,’ same old song of the subjectors.
Sorry, sirs, but we don’t sing along to anthems or your pledges.
In your garbage rose the rulers of the restless: do not test us.
We live to love, and we love to rock mics.
We speak in ghetto tongue, cause ghetto’s the life.
MC’s are just hopeless:
They think record sales make them the dopest!
Stay far from timid.
Only make moves when your heart is in it.
And live the phrase ‘Sky’s the Limit.’
I cause disasters, I am the master,
Turning little bastards into fucking Casper.
So put your name on a tombstone…
Cause when you try to kill me, I refuse to die alone.
If you can’t live, you dying,
You give or you buy in.
Keep it real or keep it moving,
Keep grinding, keep shining.
Why fuck with these cornball rappers when you can have the real thing?
She claims she loves my mind, cause I’m so intelligent,
But fuck my mental…she was scheming on my mint.
The thing that men and women need to do is stick together,
Progressions can’t be made if we’re separate forever.
You know, I used to be a player…flygirl-layer and a heartbreaker,
Lovemaker, backbreaker, but then I made a mistake.
Yes, I fell in love with this ill chick,
Sweatin’ me for money, my name and the dilsnick.
My homeboys told me drop her cause it would be to my benefit;
She used to say I’d better quit hanging with those derelicts.
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.
Serve the curves, I never swerve I’m superb;
Every word you heard played tricks on your nerves.
Smoke good, fuck, eat, drink.
Drive nice car, wear all green mink.
I never want a jheri curl up under my hat,
The woman in my bed has got to be strictly black,
I never want money if my lyrics are wack,
So I must…rock…the mic.
I’m a beast on the microphone, a night stalker,
A killing machine, a savage street talker,
Jason with an axe, but I put it on wax
To eradicate the suckers who thought I had relaxed.
The greatest lesson ever learned has yet to be taught.
Who do I blame if I’m not a success?
Do I blame it on my pops that left
When I was feedin on my mama’s breast?
Or do I blame it on society?
With all this black/white stuff…man this shit is real tough.
I know I’d be the man if I cold yanked the plug on R&B…but I can’t, and that’s bugged.
I guess nobody told you a little knowledge is dangerous,
It can’t be mixed, diluted, it can’t be changed or switched.
Here’s a lesson if you’re guessing and borrowing:
Hurry, hurry step right up and keep following the leader.
Money is the key to end all your woes,
Your ups, your downs, your highs, and your lows.
Won’t you tell me last time love bought your clothes?
I wouldn’ta came and said my name and run some weak shit,
Puttin’ blurbs and slurs and words that don’t fit
In a rhyme, why waste time on the microphone?
I take this more serious than just a poem.
Rockin’ party to party, backyard to yard,
I tear it up y’all…and bless the mic for the Gods.
Now, yo: Juice Crew’s the family, Slick Rick’s a friend of me
And Doug E. Fresh, Stet, KRS and Public Enemy.
Blahzay-blah, you know who you are:
The red, black and green, the sun, moon and star.
Knowledge of self is being taught here on after,
Peace in the name of I, Self, Lord and Master.
I come to teach and preach and reaching each
With the speech every leech I’ll impeach.
Drop science and build with math,
And the dumb, deaf and blind’ll feel the Wrath…of Kane.
Got the new Hummer in the summer when,
I was a newcomer then,
Drugs and Mac-10s, hugs from fake friends.
Make ends: they hate you,
Be broke: girls won’t date you.
Y’all niggaz ain’t rapping the same,
Fuck the flow, y’all jacking our slang,
I seen the same shit happen to Kane,
Three cuts in your eyebrow trying to wild out.
The game is ours, will never foul out,
Y’all just better hope we gracefully bow out.
Lyrically def and connecting, complete mic-wrecking…
No double-checking, vocals kill like weapons.
‘Cause in my physical I can express through song,
Delete stress like Motrin, then extend strong.
I drink Moet with Medusa, give her shotguns in hell
From the spliff that I lift and inhale…it ain’t hard to tell.
Deep like The Shining, sparkle like a diamond,
Sneak a Uzi on the Island in my army jacket lining.
Hit the Earth like a comet…invasion,
Nas is like the Afrocentric Asian: half-man, half-amazing.
It ain’t hard to tell, I excel then prevail,
The mic is contacted, I attract clientele.
My mic check is life or death, breathing a sniper’s breath,
I exhale the yellow smoke of buddha through righteous steps.
Gun control means using both hands, in my land.
Never forget that I’m the one you thought wouldn’t make it.
I used to make money…now I just take it.
I’m sick and tired of these fake-ass niggas,
Saying that they’re catching bodies when they never pulled a trigger.
I know your style, I’ve seen it before,
You wearing army suit, now you think you’re hardcore.
Drinking on your 40’s, smoking on your blunts,
Can’t afford a chain so you wear gold fronts…
You fakin’ the funk, kid.
And you’d be getting it up the ass if you ever did a fucking bid.
My whole persona’s kinda laid back like a recliner,
And since a minor, I been fucking with marijuana.
I know the price, know the risk, know the wrongs and the rights;
Still my blood flows ice…it’s just my life.
Asparagus tips look yummy, yummy, yummy,
Candied yams inside my tummy.
A collage of good eats, some snacks or nice treats,
Apple sauce and some nice red beets.
This is what we snack on when we’re questin’.
Times are hard in the ghetto, I gotta steal for a living;
Eating turkey-flavored Now & Laters for Thanksgiving.
They call it Thanksgiving, I call your holiday ‘Hell Day’
Cause I’m from poverty, neglected by the wealthy.
Back in the days was kinda crazy, kid: I started out with nothin’.
Wasn’t livin’ like Thanksgiving; I was turkey without the stuffin’.
We went from African kings to Martin Luther King,
Now they wanna make us all Rodney King.
So they conspire to murder for hire;
Is the world just a big cup of water trying to douse the black fire?
You say you wanna be my leader?
I think you wanna be my God.
You say you on the side of the righteous?
I say I’m gonna hang with the wrong.
There’s truth where the filth is,
There’s lies in the law.
You want a whore with a white dress,
I want a wife in a thong.
Talk…well I heard talk is cheap.
But like beauty, talk is just skin deep.
And when you lie and you talk a lot,
People tell you to step off a lot.
Baby, baby, baby, I don’t wanna be rude,
But I know the cause of your bloody attitude.
I know why you act that way,
It usually happens on the 28th day.
I respect that…crazily,
When you’re done with the pads, can you come check me?
And when I smiled, ‘Bing!’ I almost blinded her.
She said, ‘Great Scot, are you a thief?
Seems like you have a mouth full of gold teeth!’
Hahahaha, had to find that funny,
So I said, ‘No child, I work hard for the money.
And calling me a thief? Please…don’t even try it,
Sit down, eat your slice of pizza, and be quiet.’
I’m outspoken; my language is broken into a slang,
But it’s just a dialect that I select when I hang.
Having that gang war?
We want to know what you’re fighting for.
Fighting over colors?
All that gang shit’s for dumb motherfuckers.
But you go on thinking you’re hard…
Come to New York and we’ll see who gets robbed.
Take your jheri curls, take your black hats,
Take your wack lyrics and your bullshit tracks.
Now you’re mad and you’re thinking about stomping?
Well I’m from the South Bronx…Fuck Compton.
Now who in the world do you want to fight?
It’s against the system, we should unite.
Homophobics ain’t alright;
If you learn to love, then you might love life.