J.T.S.
06-22-2007, 11:18 AM
Verse one
i avoid distractions, attacking opposing kings in action..
Check the mic then, release flem causes nuclear reactions..
Whirl-wind through cities my rap winds start land destruction..
Touch my Mike you get jack-son, u wanna be startin' something..
Emcee's be frontin' in rhymes, how they pack nines by the waist-line..
Why waste time, wack spits over snare drums, and bass-lines..
My internal passages shine like shoes shined, and buffed..
Only when i want some pussy is when i give a fuck..
I'm the lady's luck, the groove given to Stella..
Fugitive refusing bids my clips roc-a-fella..
Do u wanna get in the game for the love or the mozzarella?..
I see mc's performances poor, and stellar..
Some of these are best sellers, platinum plus..
Wonder why consumers make these wack "star-bucks"..
Still i adjust to the times, build, and refine marvelous lines..
These rappers with all the air-time think they the shit..
Yeah their behind, couldn't rhyme if their lives depended on it..
Wackness flaunted like models bodies on cat-walks..
These cats raps are so dead their note-books surronded in chalk..
I know money-talks, but you need value to shock..
In the game weak shit is common like shoot-outs in ghetto parks..
It's ashame grown men with pre-school darts..
Ruining the art wit artifical thoughts to top bill-board charts..
How many niggas gotta spit about glocks, rocks, and bustin' shots?..
i see u sweating while u rhyme, but ya lines ain't hot..
You ain't Pac, or B.i.g. Pop so stop ya reinactments..
Consumers programmed to cop this trash in the record stores..
While they shelve the uncut raw, i'm bringing hip-hop laws..
Breaking back in effect, dead minds u can't resserect..
Players i respect ya steez, if your a live emcee..
But don't welcome me to bring terror to ya dome like Public enemy..
Put a curse on ya fam like the Kennedy's..
Remember me like ya first time smoking a dime..
I know-the-ledge like Rakim's mind..
i avoid distractions, attacking opposing kings in action..
Check the mic then, release flem causes nuclear reactions..
Whirl-wind through cities my rap winds start land destruction..
Touch my Mike you get jack-son, u wanna be startin' something..
Emcee's be frontin' in rhymes, how they pack nines by the waist-line..
Why waste time, wack spits over snare drums, and bass-lines..
My internal passages shine like shoes shined, and buffed..
Only when i want some pussy is when i give a fuck..
I'm the lady's luck, the groove given to Stella..
Fugitive refusing bids my clips roc-a-fella..
Do u wanna get in the game for the love or the mozzarella?..
I see mc's performances poor, and stellar..
Some of these are best sellers, platinum plus..
Wonder why consumers make these wack "star-bucks"..
Still i adjust to the times, build, and refine marvelous lines..
These rappers with all the air-time think they the shit..
Yeah their behind, couldn't rhyme if their lives depended on it..
Wackness flaunted like models bodies on cat-walks..
These cats raps are so dead their note-books surronded in chalk..
I know money-talks, but you need value to shock..
In the game weak shit is common like shoot-outs in ghetto parks..
It's ashame grown men with pre-school darts..
Ruining the art wit artifical thoughts to top bill-board charts..
How many niggas gotta spit about glocks, rocks, and bustin' shots?..
i see u sweating while u rhyme, but ya lines ain't hot..
You ain't Pac, or B.i.g. Pop so stop ya reinactments..
Consumers programmed to cop this trash in the record stores..
While they shelve the uncut raw, i'm bringing hip-hop laws..
Breaking back in effect, dead minds u can't resserect..
Players i respect ya steez, if your a live emcee..
But don't welcome me to bring terror to ya dome like Public enemy..
Put a curse on ya fam like the Kennedy's..
Remember me like ya first time smoking a dime..
I know-the-ledge like Rakim's mind..