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Tempo: 60 BPM
Tracks: 3
Instruments:
Bars: 20

Lyric

Hip-hop is a Punitive Community
I thought we all were for Unity
Not even Ol' Skool Heads are
Granted Diplomatic Immunity

What I thought was fresh I find molded
I'm stressed and blind-folded
I'm blessed (and) signed yet scolded
Hold it! All of a sudden I'm reproached,
Blamed and discredited
I read a magazine fold-out
Sayin' I sold out with the swearwords edited
Letting it get to ya
Is the worst thing you could do
Following your heart and staying hunble being the 1st thing you should do
All in all it comes down to droppin'
One-on-one on Battle-breaks
Anytime Two-tongues!
I love skinning rattle-snakes!
It's all moo-moo after all the sound that brainless cattle makes Can't touch me!
If you ride hard remember that the Saddle shakes and You may fall off the
Horse any given moment 'cos Some of us are unsure and Some of us are Showmen
Find the means, behind the Scenes
Explore every omen to realize Rome wasn't built in a day you don't have to be
A briton

Why's an MC an immediate sell-out
When he earns a mark?
Everything turns to dark
That little doggie learns to bark
All that hate really burns a mark
Sudden faith turns
The Shark into the Hunted
Living dead giving head to the Undead
We should've learned fables about turned tables a total of 10 concerned
Labels
That weren't able to offer me
Whats righteously mine
This reduced the total to - let's see
Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three
Now, I don't drive a BMW I drive a BMG
So, let the Versatile curse a while
In verse of Style I nurse my rhyme
Never giving an MC a ten, if he earns a nine
With a rhymestyle worse than mine
Maybe he learns in time
That to be able to be
Nominating for dominating
One has to burn a mic
You're aimless! Not blameless!
You're thoughtless! Not flawless! Nor faultless! You're hypocritical, lame!
My Political Aim is Critical Acclaim
There's a fine line between True Name,
Pure Game and Analytical Fame
It's all the same
There's always some lad asking
"are you a Comrade or a Scumbag?"
Reading a Drummag with this dumb ad:
AN MPC MP3 MC for MTV
Levaes an empty feel
Now you're about to sign
An unusually tempting deal
Do you kneel down
Or do you take the wheel?
Do you steal sounds
Or do you break the Seal of Originality?
In actuality unprecedented versatility meets harmonic stability and real
Talent
But the saddest part is that
How many Groupies gave him oral
Determines if he goes down
Immortal or im morale

Colasnortinghashorgamepills
You're an up-and-coming MC
Sporting cash-for-fame-Skills
I don't even have to tell you
That Aspartame kills the same ills made you pay bills and consolidate your
Outstanding debts
Before the love and overstanding gets stuck
In between the Zero Tolerance Officer and the Harm Reduction Cop
Realize the Bottomline:
You suck like a Suction cup perfect size, plasticine and used on a regular
Basis
You've reached a frozen moment,
Your 2nd consecutive stasis
You're thirsty looking at the sand around you no sign of an Oasis
You're running back and forth in Labyrinths and running back and forth in
Mazes
Nothing changes
It never seizes to amaze me
I actually vouched for the Wrong Guy
I thought I retained the Balance
With my weak and my strong eye
It took a long while -
I'll find closure in this song
I'll pass to you
In a bonafide Bong Style