Speak to the people over the horn
Like Fela Kuti in my favorite kufi
I took avowto spray theuzi til
The day they dome
Do the right thing ain't a movie to me
Appear horny if you ain't raisin the stakes
Then what you sayin' to me
I shoot the hard eight spit street nine
Hypocrites trying to Bogard whats mine
To bolster your shine
Y'all got lines in your
Costumes and cast rooms
This is incense in the back
Room kickin' your next tattoo
The big man ship has officially landed

A full-blown fan and always
One of the baddest
That's just part and parcel of
My starving artist status
The hunger for greatness is utterly ageless
Bubble up on your playlist dumping
Blood on the pavement
You're playing with some
Bonafide born troubadours
Bursting through the studio doors
Hunting for superstars
Confiscating all pros who smack around and
Fanny pack for rapping over vocals
We keep surviving, weaving and bobbin'
Increasing involvement and feasting
And fawning while neat people party
The inmates are free in the asylum
How not to be a product
Of this weak ass environment
Y'all gotta feel me though the
Mic hand is regal
The light beams will reach you
They can heal a broken people
Regardless of the freeze we on
The good shit still
All eyes shukka Sean P and Bushwick Bill

We are the good man yeah, son
Trust me am I a Blood, clot him?
And he just listens to what may I say

Check it!
Time favors the spit kickers and rhymesayers
Ev and Ali is my family
They stay in my prayers
Movin' on up like Dave
Chappelle and John Mayer
Singapore eatin' a steam cake
That's nine layers
Promoters owe so all my notes be promissary
Tom and Jerry rappers don't
Want none like monasteries
I'm honorary every verse is a doctorate
Collecting PhDs over degrees that doctors get
Where we live ain't just a trap
They had to seal us off the money, power
And respect is what they kill you for
I'm still involved even if the
Tried to kill us all
You a flash in the pan, you not hot
That's just a menopause
Passport pimpin' on the plane soon
As i get a call it's like
Ever since I was born a nigga been absorbed

Till writing iron made us tag
Graffiti on Brazilian walls
My elevation is high, you're just peaking
A mountain of rhymes
You need a Sherpa just to reach them
Or read him, cause when you see him
You start bleedin' from your eyes
Though I'm seeing from third
I never needed your reply
Leave you wheezin' on the curb
Just for speaking to me wrong
We ain't friends just cause you rap
We don't have to get along
That's gonna have to be okay
Go ahead and make a diss record
Rap your little heart out, feel better

That's a little rhyme, get that rhyme?
I put that rhyme in
Because quite often dropouts come in
To catch the show
Them dumb ass dropouts like those rhymes

Copyright: NAFSIN WAHEEDAH MUSIC
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