HOW MANY MICS

I get mad frustrated when I prime think of all the kids who try do this for all the wrong reasons seasons change mad thangs re-arrange but it all stays the same like the love doctor strange I'm tamed like the rapper you red like the snapper When they do that I got your whole block sayin true dat if only they knew that It was you who was irregular soldiers who sold for some circular musack that's wack Plus you use that loop over and over claming you got a new style your attempts are futile uh child you pureile brain waves sterile you can't create you just wait to take my tape laced wit malice hands get callased gripping microphones from here to Dallas go ask Alice if you don't believe me I get intervisions like Stevie see me ascend from the chalice like the we be indeed be like Khalid Mahomead emcees make me vomit I get contraversile feak a style wit no rehearsal oh contrare mo'frere don't you even go there me wit out Mic is like a beat wit out a snare I dare to tare into your ego we go way back like some gunja and poleco or coleco vision my mind makes incisions in you anatomy and I'll back this wit doteonomy or laviticus god made this word you can't get wit this word sweet as licorice dangerous as siflious Yeah I use to be underated now I take iron makes me my shit constipated I'm more concentrated so on my day off wit David Sonaburg I play golf runnin through crown heights screamin out problem wit no man before black I'm first human appetite to write wit a slave hand street pressure word to poppa I ain't gonna under One day I'll have a label and make deals wit Tommy Mottola mama always told me your one in a million always watch your back never tangle wit hassian sacillians Now I got a record deal how does it fill I'm never gonna survive unless I get crazy like Seal Cause the whole world is out of order so at nights fiends dance on grease wit John Travolta one got slaughtered as he caught blood from his mouth the other tried to duck and caught a left from my guinness stout brother brother can't you get this through your head this is a set up by the feds they scpein us wit there infer red To many emcees not enough mics exit your show like I exit the turn pike dice a dynamite like dolamite double duce bill like I don't dig Van Dyke star light to star bright the freaks come out at night like my man Wyclef I wear my sun glasses at night, and my poo'nouche will mosh your onterouge squad and hide they bodies under my garage and when the cops come lookin I be brookin to Brooklyn leave there trail broken flip tokens to hoboken a clean getaway like Alec Baldwin drivin my fast car playin Tracy Chapman