For Old Time Sake

Word to your mother, I'm urban and gutter But I be damned if you motherfuckers have heard of another Person exerting the fervor I'm working Serving this butter Its kinda like a curse, I'm sure that I be hurting my brother With all these words that I utter others they heard em and shudder What will they do for protection I got em searching for rubbers One of the things I say to do would be to purchase a hummer Lock the doors and don’t resurface till summer Be sure to discover you're worthless the scum of the earth is Above ya And my purpose since birth is to perfectly snub ya Of any accolades my rap it stays sharp like surgical cutters put them under covers up in hearses and ovens your best flows still worser than verses I stutter I stay elevated like sun or magic Persians that hover Done a whole lot of coming like a virgin that nut up Whack emcees I'm the human version of shut up Let's give 'em something to feel Now Take em back to the days when the music was real For old time sake Let's give 'em something to feel I love the feeling of touching the crowd just like elevator buttons going up and then down bobbing they noggin from the bombs that I got tucked in my crowd the opposite of stuck in the ground like aliens abducting a child I love the feeling of inner divinity giving me liberty literally how I live until I kick it see my visions they get to me mystery rips at me anybody with me gets to sit and witness the victory I love the feeling of dropping a gem All over the public they love I'm a popular trend I speak loud, like opera men But I never where a tux I be rocking them Tims I love the feeling killing a track, what's realer than that Taking an emcee drilling his cap and pealing it back I flip lids through the ceiling like I'm dealing the crack and put you underground like where J Dilla is at For old time sake Let's give 'em something to feel Now Take em back to the days when the music was real And just chill, we came to give em what they want right No front type all I need is one mic keep keeping it live and real high this for old time sake we do it to get by Rock the premises non stop we reminisce On top defending this hip hop forever I found a light right inside of my body bright as the smile of the Dalai Lama precise as the site of my shotty, drama don’t be happening when I'm rapping 'cuz my style is the Gotti of honor, I got a mob of scholars they job be to follow my orders I Apollo the chorus meaning I hollow the forest of emcees with my hook and burn it down to the poorest common denominator dominate your kind for not accommodating common nature good god I gotta chase ya, ‘cuz I'm designed to praise ya, but all the time I waste I'm trying to find a finer place for me to lay my seed and breed my dime a child and grace her with the presence and the essence of the life and pay her severance with these sessions of mic, I kneel down in reverence but I still question my life, its like confession tonight the rich are the weak the poor are the strong I fall at the feet of weary legs that be sore in the palms moms that read psalms and carry water she walk for ten miles for a clean drink and wouldn’t swallow a drop before she reached her small little hut and all of her sons get em a drink, yeah, all em at once, before all of them guns storm the village guerrillas kill storm and pillage, I look up to little children that get still-born in prisons I'm still torn from visits into my sub-consciousness and forced to live in this money hungry system full of whores and villains my chore is diligent but I remorse the militant mother *** that questions my killer rapport for filling in the uninformed with realer shit, I relish it, telling kids with eloquence how to form the fellowship