| I heard an emcee this morning that made me wanna get in the booth
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| And no offense to him or his crew but I know that I’m better than that dude
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| So what I gotta do to get his spot in hip-hop and my video on MTV2
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| I know it can’t be the skills cause mine have been ill since 2002
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| Too many Facebook rappers to unlike
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| This blank sheet of paper is the shit they’ve done right
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| Whilst Peter been beating the beat up repeatedly leaving the body in Peabody
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| seemingly nobody noticed
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| I figured I’d take it and make it the focus
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| I’m the lord grand chancellor
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| Backwoods rambler
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| Rap career canceler, bumping Fiona Apple
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| I’m the weird beard grower
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| A ghost, a feared flower
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| A myth, a gift shower
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| I been sipping on a Snapple in the cypher
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| You can find me I’m the wildest geek
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| My assignment has been rhyming been aligned to the beat
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| My bud kind but I’m violent when I’m rhyming delete
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| All pretenders who enter cause my potential’s elite
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| He’s always stressing excellent when blessing a show
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| My investments are destined to double bubble and grow
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| So, yes, in the flesh, the man, the mess, Spose
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| Who can still flow fresher than dressers of clean clothes
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| Oh, you getting to know the name I came to spell
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| I’m underground yeah I came from Wells
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| So watch me play the bass line on a belt your favorite rapper just used so he
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| could hang himself
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| «But it’s all good, Spose!"No it ain’t so swell
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| Cause I’m back down to Earth like some angels fell
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| Cause I popped up on the chart with some stained lapels
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| And then I disappeared faster than Dave Chappelle
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| Poof
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| I been struggling rhyming like weed made of iron that’s how hard Ive been
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| grinding
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| Been neglecting assignments, dreaming of islands
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| But not recouping, beat looping with the droopiest eye lids
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| My ups and downs have both been critical
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| My free time is infinitesimal
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| Inside my ride, driving to the gig, whipping it, kicking it, ducking the
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| piglets, fine rhymes kid
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| There must be a connect I can’t find him yet
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| Don’t want a private jet just rhyming checks
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| Hey you’ll never find Ryan crying with the blues like sirens
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| Bro this is no sob story
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| Even though they’re hating in their verses, I don’t want sympathy this is a
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| statement of purpose:
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| I will out work every motherfucker alive and those who don’t fuck their moms,
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| too
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| Yo, I got callouses that will amount to palaces
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| Analysis is cats is on my phallace, put em up
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| I sip McCallan talented vow to you no medallions, challenge it till paralysis,
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| dude: put em up
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| If you’re playing Call of Duty chilling watching television and you wonder why
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| you’re going under, shut the fuck up
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| But, if you never relent like you only loan things out once, then guess what:
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| your day gon come
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| Some people are saying that this guy might be the next big rap star,
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| and he’s a white dude from Maine.
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| His real name is Ryan Peters but he goes by «Spose."We need him to work some
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| hip-hop into Bangor |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song 2002, artist - Spose. Album song The Audacity!, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп