Sicilian Spit
04-03-09, 06:04 AM
Always loved this beat...
http://www.zshare.net/audio/581242752e614f70/
I got vocabulary, I got the form
Thought process mad contrary, got the swagger to perform
Well-informed about society, locally and globally
Spit it at a high degree, my vocals be Chernobyl heat
Plenty creativity, my favorite three activities
F*ckin', puffin' trees and writin' free me from captivity
Seen as the nativity, December 25th
Speak the holiest of words, so disremember any myths
About fake Messiahs or any liars that maligned me
Find these behind me, they lookin' at me blindly
Diction and my prose, what if I combine these?
The pen to the pad for a hour set my mind free
Timely on a instrumental, it's fundamental
Seems so simple lettin' lyrics flow from the dental
But it's always stimulating, it's like I'm simulating
An amorous affair, got the words and music mating
Creating something better than the two on their own
I got notes f*ckin' letters till it's two in the mo'n'
Hundred bars on my pad and a few on my phone
Got Verizon, enterprisin', my horizon so surprisin'
So I sized myself up and said I'll do on my own
What no one would do for me, debut on the throne
It's a coup of the throne, call it forced abdication
Till I'm thru with the throne I'm your source of fascination
How his skin translate into a flow so fresh?
Plenty kids transribin', but their flow don't mesh
Got the whole crowd vibin', never hold no stress
Spit it loud, I'm the livest feelin' oh so blessed
Head's up in the clouds still I blow mo' cess
Only smoke the darkest purple, never known no less
It's the Bay that cultivated both my method and my style
Had some major song creators, I'm the defest in a while
Sucka MCs waitin' for death in single file
Compile all my lyrics you could stretch it for miles
Cuz I'm overly loquacious, Talib Kweli-itis
Tryna say too much, pen givin' me arthritis
Everybody wanna copy the Don, all biters
All writers tryna keep up be puttin' in all nighters
While I speak common sense my skills are uncommon
Even if llamas spit I'll never be done rhymin'
Your blanks regenerate in my brain and become bullets
Minds a gun, mouth's the trigger, I'm lettin' my tongue pull it
Spit knowledge at your silhouette, acknowledge I'm the illest yet
More G than a Gatorade commercial without spillin' sweat
http://www.zshare.net/audio/581242752e614f70/
I got vocabulary, I got the form
Thought process mad contrary, got the swagger to perform
Well-informed about society, locally and globally
Spit it at a high degree, my vocals be Chernobyl heat
Plenty creativity, my favorite three activities
F*ckin', puffin' trees and writin' free me from captivity
Seen as the nativity, December 25th
Speak the holiest of words, so disremember any myths
About fake Messiahs or any liars that maligned me
Find these behind me, they lookin' at me blindly
Diction and my prose, what if I combine these?
The pen to the pad for a hour set my mind free
Timely on a instrumental, it's fundamental
Seems so simple lettin' lyrics flow from the dental
But it's always stimulating, it's like I'm simulating
An amorous affair, got the words and music mating
Creating something better than the two on their own
I got notes f*ckin' letters till it's two in the mo'n'
Hundred bars on my pad and a few on my phone
Got Verizon, enterprisin', my horizon so surprisin'
So I sized myself up and said I'll do on my own
What no one would do for me, debut on the throne
It's a coup of the throne, call it forced abdication
Till I'm thru with the throne I'm your source of fascination
How his skin translate into a flow so fresh?
Plenty kids transribin', but their flow don't mesh
Got the whole crowd vibin', never hold no stress
Spit it loud, I'm the livest feelin' oh so blessed
Head's up in the clouds still I blow mo' cess
Only smoke the darkest purple, never known no less
It's the Bay that cultivated both my method and my style
Had some major song creators, I'm the defest in a while
Sucka MCs waitin' for death in single file
Compile all my lyrics you could stretch it for miles
Cuz I'm overly loquacious, Talib Kweli-itis
Tryna say too much, pen givin' me arthritis
Everybody wanna copy the Don, all biters
All writers tryna keep up be puttin' in all nighters
While I speak common sense my skills are uncommon
Even if llamas spit I'll never be done rhymin'
Your blanks regenerate in my brain and become bullets
Minds a gun, mouth's the trigger, I'm lettin' my tongue pull it
Spit knowledge at your silhouette, acknowledge I'm the illest yet
More G than a Gatorade commercial without spillin' sweat