| Mr. Poole is cool as he floats on lyrical concertos
|
| So hip that his style slicks back like Roberto
|
| Carefully, he fully assesses with thought process
|
| How many MC’s in a sense be on some nonsense?
|
| Like Phil Collins
|
| We live in a land of confusion
|
| And pollution, only solution alien intrusion
|
| When something good happens, it’s an allusion
|
| Temporarily everybody in the hood’s rapping so you feel like losing
|
| And it’s scary
|
| But if you’re very faithful
|
| You’ll wait for the right time to recite rhymes
|
| To your people, in your lifetime
|
| To be stable
|
| You have to put everything on the table
|
| I’ll tell you the fable of a man who lost all his staples
|
| One day he got a letter from the label
|
| Now off the street, shit is sweet potato
|
| Getting comfy with the cable
|
| Being able to spend more cash, kicking it with friends more
|
| Driving fast just to crash, what the fuck you got a Benz for?
|
| Your material objects with serial numbers
|
| Bring serious theatrics and dramatics like the Penumbra
|
| I bring the lightning
|
| Let the rest of the Spectrum bring the thunder
|
| Brain storm is not warm you’ve been warned, now burn like lumber
|
| Where ever it be, trouble can strike
|
| And it be right in your face when we’s about to grab the mic
|
| What is life?
|
| I do this every day, and every night
|
| Murdering kids who wanna step on the surfaces
|
| Oh, I’ll break it down
|
| The ingredients of this recipe
|
| It’s two cups of «step the fuck back»
|
| And a teaspoon of «don't mess with me»
|
| Unless you be like three times the MC that you assume you is
|
| Best believe that doom exist
|
| Testing us is tumorous
|
| Who enlisted?
|
| Who pledged allegiance?
|
| Who went the distance and fucked up your sequence?
|
| What’s your achievements?
|
| Heathens
|
| Everywhere I glance
|
| These kids will drop their pants for an advance
|
| Cause this bitch has cramps
|
| Now run and tell your camp we’re coming and we’re permanent
|
| Circumference disturbing with verbal turbulence
|
| Stand still, like time stood still
|
| When I entered your sector
|
| And took place at the base of your foothill
|
| It took skill to plant it into your hair
|
| Now we’re everywhere
|
| Spectrum comes off every night like evening wear
|
| I watch with amazement
|
| And a small dose of sarcasm
|
| And the MC’s in the basement
|
| Embracing the bar smashing
|
| It’s more than just the 20 measures stabbing
|
| Making rappers mad, call them classic jabs
|
| And what the masses have?
|
| Ask your dad
|
| It’s about the land that you stand
|
| I’m here baby
|
| I think it’s time you give a damn
|
| Who in your crew can name this approach I vanquish?
|
| I daze and flame in your ways, the show amazement
|
| Raise the occasion, the vibration make you hemorrhage
|
| Because contingence is headed for your lineage
|
| In the fibs, we did it locally
|
| Now we 'bout to move it openly
|
| Internationally, make it cold, believe
|
| Don’t joke with me, cause see I’m not much for laughs
|
| If you come to grab, my intention is to bust that ass
|
| So teach these half-breed MCs to know about monogamy
|
| Married to hip-hop but fucking R&B
|
| Just a novelty, a slim chance like the lottery
|
| You slaughter me, I know your plans in geography
|
| I rolled up and snapped like a bandanna
|
| Niggas is pan-handlin' tryin' to play the role of Santa
|
| I flow like a manta ray, suckas better keep it stationary
|
| Cause switchin' from spot to spot you get popped
|
| I keep it interactive, in the center of the mind
|
| Where you lacking, you talking all that wack shit
|
| I got you on a leash like a mastiff
|
| And your bitch in the back, in the back, giving ass, bee-etch |