Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Humble Pie

It's Charles Hamilton,
Mr Toomp,
It's not dj toomp no more man,
Yeah, goin in,
Ya dig?

(verse 1)
The undeground says Charles don't change,
but how can I keep up with all those names?
Big someone, lil uh hu, a last name that follows the letter J, man it's hard to seperate,
fact is that my bars will never stray so Charles is forever the same regardless of the hate,
critisism from niggas stuck in a split decision, is this kid what's up? Does he suck? Or is this nigga spittin,
listen up, give a fuck as I whisper niggas,
I'm not a jeeny, so you can not see me,
if you could stop dreamin then would you sleep at peace?
Then why would, you sleep on me,
Speak on beats,
what the fuck kid, Charles is crack!
Opinionated, the rush limbaugh of rap.
Hate it or love it i'm all over the airwaves,
my statements are public, the blogs know what they dare say,
I'm copying this one sounding like that one,
but it's the Hamilton zone homie, act 1,
you mad dumb I'm just trying to have fun, my cousin is the lyte get a camera, actoin!

You can do what you want
Can say what you say
I'm just tryna take over the world
You can move if you want
Today is the day
That I'm takin' over the world
I've decided to take over the world
I'm Hot, ya dig

(verse 2)
The label keeps saying charles polish your sound up,
You got it but we watchin gotta plot from the ground up,
So I'm in the booth busy broham,
Your a star fucker taking pics with lindsey lohan (heh),
No man, nobody in particular but I'm tight what people do for the lime light,
I been underground doing my thing for years,
So it's not mere luck that brings me here,
These new kids been watching me struggle, copy me,
And now they tight watching me bubble uh oh,
Denace the menace is spittin the zennith again,
The kid is rediclous, vicious when spittin the flames,
Who am I gettin at? You wish I be mentionin names,
I am that nigga, you'd be rich if I mention your name,
I ain't your publicist (hu),
I just get to snuffin,
But if I was do your home work lizzy grubbman,


(verse 3)
Ay yo Harlem where the heart is, Cleveland where I started,
Music is where I stay till I'm dearly departed,
Everything that you been hearing is garbage,
Either they think were dumb,
Or they are really retarded,
And I ain't saying that I'm nicer than most,
But when it comes to gettin on the mic, I don't choke, pause,
Most likely to flow off the mind when I go to radio station,
While cats spit rhymes that they wrote,
Half the time niggas know, but half the time niggas smoke,
Forget what they spit was on they albums,
That's how come, raps outcome is in jeopardy,
I just wanna make a change indefinately,
Thanks to Toomp I got a beat that sounds like a fuckin heroin needle playing through speakers on a pike,
That's why I got so many tracks,
My flow isn't crack,
Honestly I'm way doper than that,
Go in the bathroom throw some cold water on your face,
Deal with knowin that you ought to be replaced by someone who plays sonic and wore pink before a cam,
At least I'm being honest,
You bore me little rapper.


Lyrics by, Brian Romero(Sent From His iPod)

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