Originally Posted by J.T.S.
Her heritage was a village for the starving kids..
She labeled me a shogun trapped in showbiz..
then i was living single wit no wiz..
1 bedroom apartment wit no fridge..
We used to split 20 dollar bills down the middle..
Music was my love, a thug puzzled by the riddle..
Would kick flows since i was little..
But for a while the streets got 2 me..
Carrying an semi- auto, in the lab writing my auto-biography..
Far from me she stayed, by the gangsters she was praised..
Hood raised, wild child type..churches couldn't save..
Purse phat from drug-plays..Baby phat tights exposing her waist..
What a waste trying to hollar.. her motto was chasing dollars..
materialistic statistic..only clothes she wore Gucci, and Prada..
Devil got her in a blue dress..know she's an enemy of the dark-man..
A new world order slave, enslaved to degrade herself at any given chance..
Give ya gimmicks, make ya shimmy, shimmy ya
My flow got ya woo hahÖ..gotcha all in check
When I bust a rhyme like Iím an old dirty bastard/
What the fuck ya gonna do when I break ya neck
Giving you lines galore showing you the deplore of the lord of the warlords/
Hold cha card, face down my flow is jumping jack flash
Coming more compact than a mini disc, can you spit wit this/
Hit cha harder than a belt sander
When I put a camera on ya/
My flow stomps throw ya town
Blow all you emcees down like straw houses/
While mines is placed on the mountain
Iím running the game like Terrell Owens
So I suggest you just take a time out/
Now ya knowing, how I am going
So donít go showing off like you ainít knowing/
When Iím blowing flows like hurricanes
Itís just a damn shame itís all in the game/
When I write writs in the game take more names on
Itís game on like PS3 and XBOX 360
Ask ya self can you rip wit me/