SPAT

I got tracks on sites that don't load anymore With features from dudes who don't flow anymore I don't care if Bandcamp fold or Spotify's fucked I'll spit until my bones are dust, batter up It's not a craze, It's not a phase It's not a blog, It's not a page It's not a app in fact ah f*ck it I know it and love it even if they pimp it and run it Gotta live it and- you know what this subject redundant My top ten is Cube, Big, Andre, Common, Nas, Lupe Meth, Pharoah, Chuck D & Jay But that's just today by tomorrow shit'll change When I play Ghostface til my soul straight Then go right into some Rae So let me ask you, What do you believe in Heaven or Hell? I pressed play on North Star and found heaven itself I bought Latch Key Child the same day as ATLiens I remember that day so vividly Rainbow Records on Atlantic Ave typa imagery Sun on the concrete seemed like divinity My headphones, walkman and new shit, that's the holy trinity Rhymes and space, behold the synergy A Tuesday of course, holiday for the heads Now they say their sales look like Day Of The Dead As if that would impact if I say what I said If I spit what I spat, If I spray what I spread How would you play it instead? I mean really Get fucking money but I wonder if it's really Enough, spoken by a dude making nothing With nothing to lose, damn maybe I'm fronting Rapping about raps, they say change the subject But do you give back, or take from it, what if Streams are really screams Views are just a ruse Digital destruction analog blues On 0s and 1s instead of 1s and 2s When your collection's collecting data what's the move When your lyrics take a stand like Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf And you find you testifying against you And your bars lead to bars, is it just cause or just cause And yet people wait for the super bowl to flip cars Middle finger up every pic and they're not even pissed off I reserve that for Pac situations Say the word freedom here come stipulations Tribulation, give birth to innovations Limitation, just hurts the imitations