Donít piss on me I ainít David Chappelle
I ainít R. Kelly Iím lyrically Celly Cell/
Bringing you all to my hell where I dwell
So fuck it if you failed one of my classes/
Iím the bastard lyricist that cha all hated on like I ainít the best
Didnít even wanna take me serious like Kanye West/
Now I had to persist and keep spitting those legit lyrics
Coming correct on every track making it more spectacular than the last/
Iím trying to go from the forums to the decorumís
Now thatís horrid coming from a place where emcees are the nicest/
Even in the situation I am in weíre still in a Gangster Loveís Crisis
How righteous is that despite cha dislikes I still got more drama/
I went to ask for advice I had various choices make a phone call
To the nearest talk show (nope), do some drugs and soak in my own pain/
Nope so I went to the family gave me a handy me down laundry list
Spit my wig gave the gist of what I was going through/
Mama had to ramble on; pops was steady consistent wit the knowledge
So I dug through my favorite records and began researching/
Once I returned to the booth I began to write the truth
Viewed it as I had the engineer rewind the tape and
It played back like memories constructed on a DVD/[/QUOTE]
Orchestrated chops..blood symphony shots..Louis took my logic..
Naive native king..pulling strings melodic..
Mental planes chartered..by society regarded as outkasts..
My wrath lasts til babylon burn..to my firm blunts i pass..
No job slob..stacking stacks.. of tax-free cash..
Feds itching to scratch me like a rash..
Black trash...alcoholic like Tash..
Haters can kiss my ass after i pass gas..
Global trash spreading fast..the authors are sub-dued..
Super-nova tunes penned.. in a interragation room..
Super-sonic boom... goodtimes of the j.j. dynamite..
ladies on my wood like termites..
My eternal spits tight like 10 year dikes..
My evidence, my own testament, written on wood
Twelve tribes layin at the head of corners in hoods
Last edited by J.T.S.; 09-15-2007 at 07:15 PM.