Saturday, December 29, 2007

There is no stopping, when my lines start to popping,
from the streets to the school yards, you can not fool,
God's people, we are the chosen ones to put poetry into,
emotion son, into motion, I am bragging and boasting,
at the coast I watching the ocean, under the hot sun,
I feel that my skin get darker, doing wonders with
a magic marker, I slam fans like grand slams and
serve every rapper in sight, I get in their nerves and they
wonder how a kid sound like, my cypher remain round like curves,
on a fly girl, this is my world, I supply you oxygine,

take a breathe and take a one step at the time,
That is how a kid stays way ahead, away head of the time,
let my rhymes combine with the beats, let the heads bob,
this is for my peeps, with their mind on cheese,
I hate to brag, I hate to nag, I got pape to stack,
I want cake for my fam, I not from Brooklyn, I take
nothing, those who fake would not make nothing,
The real ones showing the deal son, feel the tongue,
peal the caps, real with the iller facts,
I am not squeezing no triggers, chap.


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