Sunday, December 19, 2010


I am hip hop's petro
The oil is the ghetto
The beat is a Citgo-The central
Nevous system is angst and aggression
Thanks Mr. Reagen and thank the depression-Digestion
People's lives look inside its intestines
See Tyrone, Julio, Thien, and Preston

One hand on the the trigger, one hand on the figures
One hand on the liquor, one hand on the swisher
One hand on the wheel, one hand out the window
Four Fingers Down, to the world of hating ass niggas
One Foot in Jordans, One foot in gators
Both legs on the court, but two different spectators
Judge, jury defendant and bailiff
Coach, referee, fans and players

Eyes in the apartments, tears flood the pavement
Potholes are the pools and its such an odd placement
Cant no one swim, so when they drown there is noone to save them
Dreams and miracles are on time bill payments

Everyone wants a loaf but they fighting over crumbs
So they toast brains for grains, aint got enough for the crust of the bun
Son! Its son's are sons of sons
Sons of a Bitches and Son of a guns
Believe more in the son of sam then the son of Lamb
But best believe they hit they knees when He comes again
He used syringes to teeth when his teeth were coming in-Stumbling
First steps over pots and pans
Pails full of banking soda, crack rocks in its box of sand
Drop the hand Mr. DJ, scratch and fade
If you dont wanna wipe out then catch the wave
Hip Hops at high tide, yet still cresting and forming
So if you thought the storm was a problem
I'm a fucking Tsunami

Jack of All Trades...Master of None

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