Lyrics Feel Like Spittin' - J-Live

Feel Like Spittin'

Ayo, I rap for my scraps
Rhyme fo' my dimes
Spit fo' my grip
Write lines for shine
Flow fo' my doe
Words said for cred
My justice is to bust this, nuff said
You can find me, in the mid 90's
Home, my preferred B.P.M.
off the dome
In Manhattan streets, my young feet roam
In years I released my most classic poems
My M.P.H.
on the turnpike’s slowin'
The average test score when the transcripts shown
The name’s got fame but the game’s unknown
I inspire many but I have no clones
I’m born the cipher known as the true school
At least that’s the sound cats say they used to
I grew up from does to did to used to
So rather than fret I suggest you do too
The term’s not needed it’s already implied
Whatever comes out, that’s what was inside
If life is a beach, my flow’s on the wet side
So my own foot must get swept by the tide
Along with the critics that distort the facts
The Monday morning, armchair quarterbacks
I could pass, run through you or catch
Rhyme, program with scratch when I score I spike it
Why?
Cause I feel like it
(You J how you feel?)
I feel like I’m the shit
I know no other way to say it
Now wait a minute
If that was true, you wouldn’t play it
So many ways, so many days to display it
On the mic or on the tables I’mma forte it
You can’t fuck with it, you can’t even foreplay it
There ain’t an actor that can accurately portray it
There ain’t an artist that could even sketch a portrait
I like this, to resemble what you like in this
There’s nothin' like this
Nothin' as this
No simile
No metaphor
Wait!
Silly me, yes meteor fly through the sky
Light up your life
Make a wish, fuck that, make a wish come true
Come true on the mic till the light shine through
Come to a show, stand where ever you want to
One, two
Not a square inch in the place outta reach
To the speech, mic or not I accapel (damn)
You’re listenin' to what I’m sayin'
You know how I can tell?
It’s written on your face
Screamin' «J you put a spell
You know Live can tell a story and still rock it well.»
And if not, you didn’t hear me sayin' «go to Hell»
I got a rocket in my pocket you can Akinyel
I’m goin' public this year, I know my stock will sell
Fuck sink or swim son, I know my ship will sail
Justice will prevail with a story to tell
Born in Harlem, raised to Globetrot
Will I be without BK?
I know not
So I rep for the whole New York, I go to spots
You can tell by the way that I talk, it had a lot
To do with how I package my gift
My whole presence is wrapped in the New York Times and God lessons
Hard like paper mache and the headlines say
«Young boy makes good, each and every day»
Each and every way, I’mma show and prove
Over hip hop grooves
Makin' hip hop moves
I go from city to city
Back yard to yard
Been around the world and I, I god
Spread culture thick through lyrics
Never outdated
Often translated
Praise due and gain through dap and anecdotes
On how these quotes became the antidote
For a surplus of ignorance and deficit I hope
I reverse the polarity for the sake of clarity
Cause it don’t stop till I stop and won’t stop
I say that with the confidence I write with (why?)
Cause I feel like it