May
Sunday 6 March 2011 photo 1/1
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Comin up it never mattered what color you was
If you could spit then you could spit, thats it, thats what it was
Back when, motherf*ckers was straight back packin
Cypherin, fightin for life in this rap
for the mic to get past and you psyched and you gasped
and you hyped cuz you last and you might whoop some ass
If you lost then you lost shake hands like a man
and you swallowed it, when the unsigned hype column
at The Source was like, the only source of light
When the mics used to mean somethin, a four was like
you were the shit, now its like the least you get
three and a half now just means you a piece of shit
You dont know me you motherf*ckin punk
Will somebody please tell whoever braids his head
That I am not afraid, hes just a f*ckin waste of lead
on my pencil, for me to write some sh*t this simple
And its pitiful, cuz I would have never said sh*t to you if you'd have kept your mouth shut
Annons
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