Saturday, August 6, 2011

Beginner's Luck

Listen to track

[Verse]
Reading National Geographic. Be irrational.
See a rapper, be diplomatic, give him a dap and go.
Talk sh1t about him after the show.
Laugh at his flow, snap on his hoes, and ask him for dough.
F*ck 94% of ALL rappers.
The other 6% are young and belligerent.
The majority is ignorant.
So I doubt. So the 94% can live a bit.
Me and Eminem share the same sentiments.
He thought of dissing Wayne. I thought of dissing him.
I swear “We Made You” was a jack from “All Alone“.



… If it wasn’t? Message! Karl Malone. Marshall!
Hamilton Scotland. The first Mather was John.
I don’t mean Stockton.
Eminem is black. I’m snitching.
Nation of Islam, and Klan members, listen.
David Duke plays my music, ‘cause I say the truth!
Radical clues, and facial bruises display the proof.
Stupid haters of me? One color.
Asians, Cubans, and Haitians learn English to say my music.
So you Negroes need to make improvements.
I’m a, “You still making music?” away from losing my race, and troopin’ it.
I bit my tooth on some STUPID sh1t.

So if I ever bit a bar?
I’m just being lucrative.
Meaning, I spend a lot of time on my Wall Street clock.
I am the sun. Quite redundant to call me hot.
So I overheat when I vent, go to sleep after over-eating.
Cannibalistic intent.
In a f*cking mental ward, due to malicious intent.
F*ck my quote, unquote, “Mom”.
Someone give her some d*ck, she said, “You only get one mother.”
Well… Find me a stunt double.
Her f*cking existence, causes blunt trouble.
Damn y’all.
Can’t talk. Can’t crawl.
Stand tall on my hands, and fans call.
Stand tall in my Vans, and the law man calls.
Is Charles a man, or does my heart have to handle a bra?
Or must I handle my own balls, holler at me, Charles…

[Talking]
… ONE!
WHOO!

… How stupid do I sound?

… Come on.

*beat plays for remaining duration*

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