Drop

Let me freak the funk, obsolete is the punk that talk more junk than Sanford sells. I jet propel at a rate that complice their mental state as I invade their masquerade they couldn't fade with a clipper blade. 10 years in the trade is not enough, you can't cut it I let you take a swing, and you bunted for an easy out, I leave mc's with doubt of exceeding, my name is Bottie Brown and I'm proceeding, leading, they try to follow but they're shallow and hollow.

I can see right through them like an empty 40 bottle, of O.E. they have no key, or no clue to the game at all, now they washed up hung out to dry, standing looking stpud, wondering why (why man?) it was the fame, that they tried to get now they walking around talkin about represent and keep it real, but I got to appeal cause they exisitng in a fantasy when holding the steel.

Rock a bye baby, listen to my heart pumping to a fine ravine of all things it's a vain of a shrine all missions impossible are possible, cause I'm heading for a new sector 365 days from now.

I'll wipe the sweat from my brow and each and every true will stick, or fall from the sky of my cloud nine from homies all the way to chics, no matter how fine cotrolling is a swollen way to wreck a proud mind you hold it in your hands and watch a man start crying tear after tear in the puppet man's hands every time you take a stance you do the puppet man's dance.

And the worlds at a stand-still deep in broken mansville, trapped in the moat with an avil, still killing yourself, and dogging ya health you ain't amphibious, so grab a hold of yourselfaround talkin about represent and keep it real, but I got to appeal cause they exisitng in a fantasy when holding the steel.

shit is-shit is ill, my flow still will spill toxic slick to shock you sick like electrocute when I execute, acutely over the rythym on those that pollute, extra dosages is what I gotta give em got em mad and tremblin cause I been up in my lad assemblin misslies, to bomb the enemy because they envy me, and the making of my mad currency currently I think we're in a state of an emergency.

Cause niggas done sold their souls, and now their souls is hollow and I think they can't follow they can't swollow, the truth because it hurts this is how I put it down, this is my earth, my turf the worth of my birth is a billion, and you know what time it is. I'm going to make a million around talkin about represent and keep it real, but I got to appeal cause they exisitng in a fantasy when holding the steel.

Quote by The Pharcyde from Dropon the albumLabcabincalifornia

Full clip, Do you wanna mess with this? Gang Starr, I’m one of the best yet. I’m nice like that, “It’s all good”, In this business of rep

Fresh out the gate again, time to raise the stakes again. Fatten my plate again, y’all cats know we always play to win. G-A-N-G, to the Starr’s, son, Haters, took this shit too far, son. So thats all for you, I’m whiping out your whole team. I’ll splatter your dreams with lyrics to shatter your schemes. The badder you seem, the more lies you tell. The more lies you sell, then by surprise you fell. Into my deathtrap, right into my clutches. Stupid, you know the God must bless every single mic he touches. I’ve suffered, just so I could return harder. Wanna be the shit starter? Fuck around, make you a martyr. I make ya famous, turn around and make ya nameless Cause you never understood to me how vital this rap game is. Save it and hold that, you catch a hot one. Rhymes chase a fake nigga down soon as I spot on.

So if you stand in my way, I’m gonna have to spray. Learn that “if you come against me son your gonna have to pray”. Since back in the day I held The Weight and kept my head up. The wanna see the God catch an L Itz all a Set Up. I give no man or thing power over me. Why these niggaz so jealous and lookin sour, over me? I’m bolder, G, I’m like impossible to stop. I’m like that nigga in the ring with you, impossible to drop. I’m like two magazine fully loaded to your one. Plus I ain’t gonna quit spittin, nigga, till your done. Plus, more than over, I got my whole shit together. More than a decade of hits, that’ll live forever. Catchin rep off my name? Your bound to fry. Know how many niggaz that I know, is done to die. We never fail, and we ain’t never been frail. You niggaz talk crime, but you scared of jail

Attackin like a slick Apache lyrics are trigger happy. Pullin back your wig piece just for the way your lookin at me. Talk back, blaow! I hit you up right now. I don’t know why so many of y’all wanna be thugs anyhow. Face the consequence, of your childish nonsense. I could make your head explode just by my lyrical content. Get you in my scope and metaphorically snipe ya. I never liked ya, I gas that ass and then ignite ya. The flame thrower, make your peops afraid to know ya. How many times I told ya, “play your position” small soldier. My heart is colder, makes me wanna resort to violence. Stop beatin me in the head son, nah, I’m not buyin it. I’m ready to blast, ready to surpass and harass. I’m ready to flip, yeah I’m ready to get with all that cash. I hold my chrome steady, with a tight grip. So watch your dome already cause this one might hit.

Quote by GangStarr from Full Clip

For underground metaphors. You can scrape an inch below the turf, for what it’s worth. My style’s been developed in the core of the Earth. The exhale’s volcanic, the inhale is seismic. So brothers just panic when he Live one arrives with. The natural ability to run through your crew. From 2-1-4 to 2-1-3 to 2-1-2. In other words, from Dallas, to L.A., to the place where J stay. Everyday is mayday.

So you can talk your trash on how you’re wettin MC’s with mad blood stains but I’ll bet you can’t stand the rain. I look upon your brain with disdain. Go back and reflect on my endeavors black I can’t complain. It’s like a raw deal, consistant with the way I make you feel. The ends stay revealed while the means I conceal. And those who try to steal get decapitated. You wanna snatch my H2O type flow, but it evaporated.

I displays my credentials over instrumentals. And my potential, increases at a rate that’s exponential. It’s detremental questionin my thesis. The penetration’s exact, like amniocentesis. I rip your rhyme to pieces after drainin out your fluid. My vocab is fluent yours is evident of being truant. I know you wanna make moves but son you best to take a second look.Before my knight takes your rook.

Cause everybody’s rappin, and only few can flow
So why the hell they tryin to deal with Live I don’t know
I handle true MC’s on their block or at their show
So if you come with bull kid, keep it on the low

Cause yo, I got the hairsplittin, self-written unbitten style that leaves the competition running scared and shakin in their pants. You best to set it off cause black it aint no second chance once I’m open, all you doin is hopin that the Live one will put the mic down, but son don’t try to snatch it after. The laughter won’t cease from the comparison, how dare you son. Step around the booth when I’m on.

The microphone magician says poof, you’re gone with the wind. There’s no trace of your friends cause you don’t know where the beginning ends or where the end begins. But you see that’s the difference, you get sold, I get paid. Black I told you, get paid. If you’re broke I’ll have to rain on your parade.

You belong in Special Ed if you think you Got It Made. J-Live with the mic is like the chef with the blade. Cause suckers get sliced and sauteed. Yeah, you thought your joint was fly but the flight was delayed because

Cause everybody’s rappin, and only few can flow
So why the hell they tryin to deal with Live I don’t know
I handle true MC’s on their block or at their show
So if you come with bull kid, keep it on the low

Cause yo, I take the grey matter of pretenders through my mental blender, and then return to sender. My pen don’t pretend to offend. I intend to render MC’s, hangin loose like a fender bender. I recommend regardless of your gender.

That you strike messin with J-Live from your agenda. And remember that whoever lends a helpin hand to defend ya. Will get burned to a cinder. As I end the, reign of wack MC’s with their suicidal tendencies. Renderin me sick, with the thoughts of killin enemies. But then I return to reality
Metaphorically murderin MC’s when they battle me.

You can’t rattle me. I’m not your average snake slitherin through the grass. I surpass the serpent as I head to class
You consider me crass as I wax that ass; style’s no joke. but you best belive I gets the last laugh

Quote by J-Live from Braggin Writes

There’s a war goin on outside, no man is safe from
You could run but you can’t hide forever
from these, streets, that we done took
You walkin witcha head down scared to look
You shook, cause ain’t no such things as halfway crooks
They never around when the beef cooks in my part of town
It’s similar to Vietnam
Now we all grown up and old, and beyond the cop’s control
They better have the riot gear ready
Tryin to bag me and get rocked steady
by the mac one-double, I touch you
and leave you with not much to go home wit
My skin is thick, cause I be up in the mix of action
if I’m not at home, puffin lye relaxin
New York got a nigga depressed
So I wear a slug-proof underneath my GuessGod bless
my soul…
before I put my foot down and begin to stroll
And to the drama I built, and all unfinished beef
You will soon be killed, put us together
It’s like mixin vodka and milk
I’m goin out blastin, takin my enemies with me
and if not, they scarred, so they will never forget me
Lord forgive me the Hennesey got me not knowin how to act
I’m fallin and I can’t turn back
or maybe it’s the words from my man Killa Black
that I can’t say so it’s left a untold fact, until my death
My goal’s to stay alive
Survival of the fit only the strong survive

I ‘m trapped, in between two worlds, tryin to get dough y’know
When the dough get low the jewels go, but never that
As long as fiends smoke crack
I’ll be on the block hustlin countin my stacks
No doubt, watchin my back and proceed with caution
Five-oh lurkin, no time to get lost in — the system
Niggaz usin fake names to get out quick
My brother did it and got bagged with two ounces
I-llegal world where squads hit the block hard
Ask my man Twin when he got bagged, that fucked me up GodBut shit happens for a reason…
You find out who’s your true peoples when you’re upstate bleedin
You can’t find a shorty to troop your bid witchu
Hit wit a 2 to 4 it’s difficult
Wild on the streets I try to maintain
Tight with my loot, cause hoes like to run game
Some niggaz like to trick but I ain’t wit that trickin shit
I’m like a Jew, savin dough so I can big whip
Pushin a Lex, now I’m set, ready to jet
No matter how much loot I get I’m stayin in the projects, forever
Jakes on the blocks we out-clever
If beef, we never seperate and pull together
When worse comes to worse and my peoples come first
Try to react and get them motherfuckin feelings hurt
My crew’s all about loot
Fuck lookin cute, I’m strictly Timb boots and army certified suits
Puffin L’s, laid back, enjoyin the smell
In the Bridge gettin down it ain’t hard to tell
You better realize
My goal’s to stay alive
Survival of the fit only the strong survive

Quote by Mobb Deep from Survival of the Fittest on the album The Infamous

ratherratherratherrather

uniqueuniqueuniqueunique

We was already loyal to peoples minds and mulianis

now we more fucked up with a mayor named Guliani

you can try to bomb me

analyze but cant define me

my minds divine heavily entwined with Ghandis

far from feeble, I leave your nostrils hard to breathe through

cause my cerebrals are more of a higher plane

than the Hebrews

my mic devotion brings out my deepest emotions

overdosing wannabes posing

sending them through convulsions

to hard to follow, you took a bite but couldnt swallow

your minds boggled

but Im as deep as Donald Goines novels

my whole persona’s kinda laid back like a recliner

and since a minor, I been fucking with marijuana

wavy-haired, my skin got a money getting glare

strictly menace wear, macking offa Guinness beer

so where it all begins is here

destiny and me finally meet

so how can I be weak?

Im rather

uniqueuniqueuniqueunique

my verbals rip shit

Brains give birth to thoughts in triplets

fuck it Im on some flip shit

ready to let my clip spit, dramatical

vocals release shells like automatics

Do musics magical causing any battle to be tragical

I got styles sick as hell, sicker than sickle cell anemia

slaughter your circulatory like lukemia

filled with larceny, who want parts of me?

Im vicious, mad malicious

cause it’s real on this road to riches

I got this mastered, other rappers craft it

weak and wicked camoflauged as killers

how they speak and kick it

peep this uniqueness

nonbelievers I’m leaving speechless

left to chokers and skunk smoke

was coming through the speakers

surgically nice with any verbal device

trife, breathing life into mics

my insight’s beyond the twilight

so die, fight, no surrender, no retreat

techniques speak

Im rather

uniqueuniqueuniqueunique

so its gonna take more than your astrologist to knowledge this

a physiologist couldn’t even figure out the exoticness

raps demolishing certified the way I style it

my wordplay blaze with the rays of ultraviolence

my culture’s smiling, getting more in depth with each breath

my biography follows the footsteps of Malcolm X

money and sex, Gore-Tex Donna Karan and Guess

finesse, success through the life

stress mics I blessed

puffing trees to get me high as trapeze

flipping Japanese at ease when I’m stacking Gs

so let’s discuss, plus degrees

how the rhyme forces the source for thoughts that’s lost

so don’t cross cause it’ll cost

the ghetto savior, smooth, the real playa with flavor

moves be major

with unexplainable behavior

the word’s on the street so keep your ears to the concrete

why, why, why Im rather

uniqueuniqueuniqueunique

Quote by AZ from Rather Unique on the album Doe or Die

Whattup kid? I know shit is rough doing your bid

When the cops came you shoulda slid to my crib

Fuck it black, no time for looking back it’s done

Plus congratulations you know you got a son

I heard he looks like you, why don’t your lady write you?

Told her she should visit, that’s when she got hyper

Flippin, talk about he acts too rough

He didn’t listen he be riffin’ while I’m telling him stuff

I was like yeah, shorty don’t care, she a snake too

Fucking with the niggaz from that fake crew that hate you

But yo, guess who got shot in the dome-piece?

Jerome’s niece, on her way home from Jones Beach – it’s bugged

Plus little Rob is selling drugs on the dime

Hangin out with young thugs that all carry 9′s

at night time there’s more trife than ever

Whattup with Cormega, did you see ‘em, are y’all together?

If so then hold the fort down, represent to the fullest

Say whassup to Herb, Ice and Bullet

I left a half a hundred in your commissary

You was my nigga when push came to shove
One what? one love…

Dear Born, you’ll be out soon, stay strong

Out in New York the same shit is goin on

the crack-heads stalking, loud-mouths is talking

hold, check out the story yesterday when I was walking

the nigga you shot last year tried to appear like he hurtin somethin

word to mother, I heard him frontin

and he be pumping on your block

your man gave him your glock

and now they run together, what up son, whatever

since I’m on the streets I’ma put it to a cease

but I heard you blew a nigga with a ox for the phone piece

Whylin on the Island, but now with Elmira

better chill cause them niggaz will put that ass on fire

Last time you wrote you said they tried you in the showers

but maintain when you come home the corner’s ours

On the reels, all these crab niggaz know the deal

When we start the revolution all they probably do is squeal

But chill, see you on the next V-I

I gave your mom dukes loot for kicks, plus sent you flicks

Your brother’s buck whylin’ in four maine he wrote me

he might beat his case, ’til he come home I play it low key

so stay civilised, time flies

though incarcerated your mind dies

I hate it when your mum cries

it kinda wants to make me murder, for real-a
I’ve even got a
mask and gloves
to bust slugs
for one love

Sometimes I sit back with a buddha sack

mind’s in another world thinking how can we exist through the facts

written in school text books, bibles, et cetera

Fuck a school lecture, the lies get me vexed-er

So I be ghost from my projects

I take my pen and pad for the week and hittin L’s while I’m sleepin

A two day stay, you may say I need the time alone

to relax my dome, no phone, left the 9 at home

You see the streets have me stressed somethin terrible

Fuckin with the corners have a nigga up in Bellevue

or h.d.m., hit with numbers from 8 to 10

a future in a maximum state pen is grim

So I comes back home, nobody’s out but shorty doo-wop

Rollin two phillies together in the Bridge we called ‘em oowops

He said, “Nas, niggaz could be bustin’ off the roof

so I wear a bullet proof and pack a black tres-deuce”

He inhaled so deep, shut his eyes like he was sleep

Started coughing one eye peeked to watch me speak

I sat back like the mack, my army suit was black

We was chillin’ on these bitches where he pumped his loose cracks

I took an l when he passed it, this little bastard

keeps me blasted he starts talkin mad shit

I had to school him, told him don’t let niggaz fool him

cause when the pistol blow the ones that’s murdered be the cool one

Tough luck when niggaz are struck, families fucked up

Could’ve cought your man, but didn’t look when you bucked up

Mistakes happen, so take heed never bust up

at the crowd catch him solo, make the right man bleed

Shorty’s laugh was cold blooded as he spoke so foul

Only twelve trying to tell me that he liked my style

Then I rose, wiping the blunts ash from my clothes

then froze only to blow the herb smoke through my nose

and told my little man that i’m a go cyprose

there’s some jewels in the skull that he can sell if he chose

words of wisdom from nas try to rise up above

keep an eye out for jake shorty what

One Love…

Quote by Nas from One Love on the album illmatic

http://www.flickr.com/photos/scallop_holden/ / CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Since the day I was young I had preminitions of an ending to come. Behind the barrel of the next man’s gun. It used to be fun, when I’m the one doin’ the clappin’. Now I’m facin’ my death, doin’ fast breath, no laughin’. How can this happen, holdin’ my chest to the floor. Laid up, or spraid up dreamin’ to even the score. Bright lights all I saw my life flashed before me. From a distance I heard a faint voice steady call me. I guess my time is here, surpress my fear I’m ready. Tryin’ to breath steady, feelin’ my legs gettin’ heavy. Lord, don’t let me..die this young, without leavin’ a son. To carry tradition, listen my life has just begun. A nightmare flip visions of swingin’ the poolstick. Defendin’ my near if I turn left the pool quick. Lost control of my mind, flipped the safety of the nine. And squeezed tastin’ down this judge and roused, then fell on my knees. Weak from my heart feel my chest gettin’ hot, I got caught. Vivid memories of how my gun dropped, bullets in stock. Lost all thoughts of me rappin’ try to catch one for I die. For self satisfaction, get up off my knees begged him don’t please. Picked up the squeeze dipped behind cars bullet shelves hittin’ the trees. Curse my enemies will be as smart enough to take cover. Feelin’ my body shudder as I drop right in front of. The boot place as hot shells hit the cheek of my face. Catchin’ bloody taste, watch my blood leave trace. Hennessy got me trippin’ plus the brew I was sippin’. Feelin’ more blood drippin’ I see them load a second clip in. I been defeated my life is ice like popsicles. Open the door hit the floor of the hospital.

My heart’s racin’ a casual and convertation. Hopin’ one day I’ll awake and feelin’ my body, start shakin’. I been mistakin’ retaliation to come. Soon holdin’ my gun boom on the floor of the hospital room. Shall I cry for help as I look up at the ceiling. My inner feelin’ tellin’ me to start healin’ not in a million. Years I would wanna end here, whipin’ my tears. Thinkin’ of my long lost carreer, in this business of rap. Now flat on my back, tryin’ to put it place to face on this enemy cat. Cardiac control, I put a hold on my soul. Twenty-two years old and my life gon’ took her some toe. My body fall for numerous feelings I fell layin’ here lonely. Watchin’ my homie scream for help I hear a doctor. Yellin’ directions to the meds cut open my friends. Bring me to the nearest bed half dead. My inner head screamin’ losin’ my breathin’. Don’t remember the good Krumb, only the bad one. And now I can tell the depths of hell for evils I’ve done. Can’t run, facin’ my worst of fears. Leavin’ my physical as my spiritual descends stairs. But wait, this can’t be real, I feel the agents are real. Askin’ my name, overlookin’ my stained gold chain. Easin’ my pain from where we came I don’t know. But he’s tellin’ me it’s not the right time to go. Back in my fo’ tubes suckin’ the ooze from my mouth. As nurses run about, tryin’ to send me down south. Who shot ya? That’s word from the detect’ and the doctor. Before I got flown to Beantown in a helicopter.

I awake with cold feet feelin’ weak and can’t eat. Seein’ homies stand around, but no sounds I can’t speak. Cheap hospital clothes badged up of holes got me depressed. As I’m lookin’ at my legs and my chest. They patched up five, lucky that I had survived. Layin’ in bed with a naked head, but alive. We call it a night, before, we tryin’ to make sure. I was staggerin’ in to the hospital door. Whosader, the flash to a honourable respitator. The flashback to me gettin’ respect form my savior. I can’t understand it, must been the way that they planned it. And my commandment I’ve never takin’ live for granted. Rememberin’ on my knees, beggin’ please. Don’t let my soul get seized, lost track of my thoughts. Cause the d.t.’s came and question me, testin’ me. Guess havin’ thoughts arrestin’ me. Stop stressin’ me cause ain’t no confession see. Funny ain’t it thought I was back in an inseignment. Now my image is tainted coughed on my crutches for enreignment… Damn.. Getting
Closer
to GodQuote by Krumb Snatcha from Closer to God on the album Snatcha Season Pt 1

This shit is wicked
on these mean streets None of my friends speak. We’re all trying to win, but then again. Maybe it’s for the best though, cause when they’re seeing too much. You know they’re trying to get you touched. Whoever said illegal was the easy way out couldn’t understand the mechanics. And the workings of the underworld,. granted. Nine to five is how to survive, I ain’t trying to survive. I’m trying to live it to the limit and love it a lot. Life ills, poison my body.

I used to say ‘fuck mic skills’. And never prayed to God, I prayed to Gotti. That’s right it’s wicked, that’s life I live it. Ain’t asking for forgiveness for my sins, ends. I break bread with the late heads, picking their brains for angles on all the evils that the game’ll do. It gets dangerous, money and power is changing us. And now we’re lethal, infected with D’Evils…

We used to fight
for building blocks Now we fight for blocks with buildings that make a killing. The closest of friends when we first started. But grew apart as the money grew, and soon grew black-hearted. Thinkin back when we first learned to use rubbers. He never learned so in turn I’m kidnappin his baby’s mother.

My hand around her collar, feeding her cheese. She said the taste of dollars was shitty so I fed her fifties. About his whereabouts I wasn’t convinced. So I kept feedin her money ’til her shit started to make sense. Who could ever foresee, we used to stay up all night at slumber parties. Now I’m tryin to rock this bitch to sleep. All the years we were real close. Now I see his fears through her tears. Know she’s wishin we were still close. Don’t cry, it is to be. In time, I’ll take away your miseries and make ‘em mine, D’Evils…

My Flesh,
No Nigga could test My soul is possessed by D’Evils in the form of diamonds and lexuses. The Exorcist, got me doing skits like Homie. You don’t know me, but the whole world owe me – strip! Was thought to be a pleasant guy all my fucking life. So now I’m down for whatever, ain’t nothing nice. Throughout my junior high years it was all friendly. But now this +Higher Learning+ got the +Remy+ in me. Liquors invaded my kidneys. Got me ready to lick off, mama forgive me.

I can’t be held accountable, D’Evils beatin me down, boo. Got me runnin with guys, making G’s, tellin lies that sound true. Come test me, I never cower. For the love of money, son, I’m giving lead showers. Stop screamin, you know the demon said it’s best to die. And even if +Jehovah Witness+, bet he’ll never testify, D’Evils…

Quote by Jay-Z from D’Evils on the album Reasonable Doubt

Pay Attention. And listen real closely how I break this slang shit down

Check it, my weed smoke is my lye
A ki of coke is a pie
When I’m lifted, I’m high
With new clothes on, I’m fly
Cars is whips and sneakers is kicks
Money is chips, movies is flicks
Also, cribs is homes, jacks is pay phones
Cocaine is nose candy, cigarettes is bones
A radio is a box, a razor blade is a ox
Fat diamonds is rocks and jakes is cop
And if you got rubbed, you got stuck
You got shot, you got bucked
And if you got double-crossed, you got fucked
Your bankroll is your poke, a choke hold is a yoke
A kite is a note, a con is a okey doke
And if you got punched that mean you got snuffed
To clean is to buff, a bull scare is a strong bluff
I know you like the way I’m freakin’ it
I talk with slang and I’ma never stop speakin’ itSpeak with criminal slang
That’s just the way that I talk, yo
Vocabulary spills, I’m ill

A burglary is a jook, a woof’s a crook
Mobb Deep already explained the meanin’ of shook
If you caught a felony, you caught a F
If you got killed, you got left
If you got the dragon, you got bad breath
If you 730, that mean you crazy
Hit me on the hip means page me
Angel dust is sherm, if you got AIDS, you got the germ
If a chick gave you a disease, then you got burned
Max mean to relax, guns and pistols is gats
Condoms is hats, critters is cracks
The food you eat is your grub
A victim’s a mark
A sweat box is a small club, your tick is your heart
Your apartment is your pad
Your old man is your dad
The studio is the lab and heated is mad
I know you like the way I’m freakin’ it
I talk with slang and I’ma never stop speakin’ itSpeak with criminal slang
That’s just the way that I talk, yo
Vocabulary spills, I’m ill

The iron horse is the train and champaign is bubbly
A deuce is a honey that’s ugly
If your girl is fine, she’s a dime
A suit is a fine, jewelry is shine
If you in love, that mean you blind
Genuine is real, a face card is a hundred dollar bill
A very hard, long stare is a grill
If you sneakin’ to go see a girl, that mean you creepin’
Smilin’ is cheesin’, bleedin’ is leakin’
Beggin is bummin, if you nuttin you comin
Takin’ orders is sunnin’, an ounce of coke is a onion
A hotel’s a telly, a cell phone’s a celly
Jealous is jelly, your food box is your belly
To guerrilla mean to use physical force
You took a L, you took a loss
To show off mean floss, uh
I know you like the way I’m freakin’ it
I talk with slang and I’ma never stop speakin’ itSpeak with criminal slang
That’s just the way that I talk, yo
Vocabulary spills, I’m ill

Quote by Big L from Ebonics on the album The Big Picture

Rugged Ruff

I got it hemmed – mad methods to microphone mechanism from inner city. Curriculm to cuttin edge for headz like circumcisions in yah mental. Zone I’m sly-er than Stallone basic instincts like Sharon Stone. Pockets Puffy-er than Combs caliber narrated rate supreme elevation, Fly-er than aviation plus freaky as domonatrix, dramatics aremanifested, thought spreadin like infection at pinnacle of perfection. Brain runs on fuel injection, cyphers are intercepted like plays by quarter backs bare witness to the fitness I be layin on the wax…..

Compositions be causin calamities rapidly, what mc would dare take a stab at three vocab mastery present retention extended through iller style. Invented brain cells excel like v6 engines when I be enterin’ – grammatical vortexes twistin’ like rolodexes context is randomly selected ran like red lights by eager paramedics majestic verbal fragments tagged dah graphics dat wreck more havoc on niggaz. Cabbages den semi automatic, plus automated but never faded datum kick in verbatim related to hip-hop….

Stereo phonic or mono my lingo tingle topics revolves around science of optics and poses as nuances scripture glitters like diamonds or sparkle like magnesium -premium equates da medium tha blows me up like helium histionics provided pumped up more Jam than technotronix prime and mo’ toxic than hydrocarbon in dioxin rupture rhythms with quartz deletin jumble diction I rips it in repetition like salots in Hinduism – It’s like dat…