About Me
YOU DESERVE IT.
Sometimes the illest cats don’t get record deals....
Sometimes the illest cats roam the streets.....underground legends....
cats you never heard of but everybody know they the nicest...
this is for them cats...
When I design rhyme in daylight or prime time i stay tight,
I walk the fine line between an mc and a play write,
I represent the underground world it's a unique scene,
there's no records deals, no video's or street teams,
I do shows to keep green, I know im not a star man,
I’m signed to myself and my mic's my A & R man,
in double 9, i guess it's just the sign of the time,
the spotlight that i been lookin for is finally mine.
I never thought about the dough when im designin my rhyme,
as long as I can reach my people over vinyl im fine,
It ain't about that, I opened up for cats who ain’t as dope as me,
while I rip the flow they lip sink the show hopelessly,
from heaven i was in the game to entertain,
i might never pimp that 75 to cop the blue range rover,
but even if I don’t remain sober...
imma score double digits till the fuckin game's over
I don't care if I’m right, wrong, or in between, all night long,
I pimp the scene, they said I couldn't write songs I intervene,
Don’t think because the battle rhymes are what I’m known for,
I can't out write the best of em', or rip the microphone raw.
My words are deep, keep my tape handy when your buzzin'
let my thoughts seep inside your dome, tell a cousin or friend
play my CD when you guzzlin’ gin,
come down, but then recite it when you buzzin again,
YOU MUST RESPECT THE FLOW.
Point blank im a professional, exceptin’ no less than excellent that’s how the
session go,
Embracin’ my rhyme when im gone who's replacin’ mine,
I trace a line that transcend off space and time.
I implement, infinite, lyrics that are intricate,
The type a shit discussed with my boss is eating shrimp and shit...
Those with intellect understand the way i wrote it,
but the average mind can take 5 years to decode it.
Gradually I drift off, imaginin’ me,
the baddest emcee, wonderin’ what my status will be?
a little local battle emcee, who never made the grade...
or a gifted lyricist who used to spit with razorblades.
every time I win the battles, they dissecting my words,
I’ll prolly never get the props that I respect I deserve
the magazines claim i wrote my battle rhymes like they knew me,
then they wanna call the next day and fuckin interview me.
do I really have props is it really that stable??
will the ask me to freestyle when i walk up into labels??
will they take me for lunches and drinks inside they limo's??
or fuck around and play me somebody else’s demo,
J - U........yall niggaz all know what his name is,
the cat that got famous for never being famous.
I prolly roam the underground streets for all times,
Signed sincerely,
* Juice the unsigned.
