| The Drum
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| Mr. J. Medeiros
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| I got a ringing in my ear
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| From banging on a drum all these years
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| Stro Elliot
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| I got a ringing in my ear
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| From banging on a drum all these years
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| Mr. J. Medeiros
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| Conscious rap is a gimmick
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| Are you conscious of that
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| You sell an ominous black cloud
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| They’ll promise to act now
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| Kids just be honest and rap
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| Stro Elliot
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| Wow, is that your meaning of a rap song?
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| You talk loud say nothin' what 's that for
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| Krypton or clark
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| Green or Bill Bixby
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| Who let ya’ll in without a key you sissys
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| Mr. J. Medeiros
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| I’m the straw man arsonist
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| Are all men narcissists
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| Monsanto’s needing more land to plant arsenic
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| Big pharma with pig farmer
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| See how they dig karma
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| Put a lid on ya mute ya suit ya
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| Kamasutra future with a fruit ya ain’t use ta
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| Truth ain’t the truth it use ta be man
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| Damn right I’m angry
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| Cause this Ayn Rand fans
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| Got a hand that ain’t ever fiend the pipe as a baby
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| Military conquest millions in a contest
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| Stub-born children I mean literally armless
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| Some learned to win but then it killed them in their conscience
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| Love burns within until you spill it’s very contents
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| Name now what’s a name with no consequence
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| Shame they say the blame is in our confidence
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| Change they say it never knows constant
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| Them chains been the same since the taming of the continent
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| Put up, what up
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| Bo Bo Bo
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| Suckas wanna flow but they got no show
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| So drop that, low end
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| Hands up, show them
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| Stand up, throw them
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| Fists in the air now
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| Hold them up
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| Hold them up
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| Hold them up
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| Fists in the air now
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| Hold them up
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| Stro Elliot
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| I’m more Frank Zappa than Frank White in a limousine
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| A leaner Peter Griffin comedian in a scene with 20 actors
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| Romantic comedy drama action types
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| I’m laughing like
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| «Oh you must be doing this for practice right?»
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| Oh you’re professional?
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| Nah. |
| I know what a rapper’s like
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| Authentic and raw with a Lion sized appetite
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| Ya’ll fall flat and start actin like a rhyming N’domukong Sue
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| You blame me, I blame you ooh
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| An NFL reference, Must mean that I’m a man that shoots deer
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| And drinks six beers for breakfast
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| Nah. |
| couldn’t be further from the truth
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| A word concerning you
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| Some of you rappers need to move further from the booth
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| And learn to turn that noose into a tourniquet removing
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| Circulation from that part of the brain exaggeration moves
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| My diagnosis? |
| your dialogue is appalling
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| Take 2 of these when your falling
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| Never call me in the morning I’m sleep
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| Put up, what up
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| Bo Bo Bo
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| Suckas wanna flow but they got no show
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| So drop that, low end
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| Hands up, show them
|
| Stand up, throw them
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| Fists in the air now
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| Hold them up
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| Hold them up
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| Hold them up
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| Fists in the air now
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| Hold them up
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| Blame One
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| I be the blame first number to the right of zero
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| I got the sight to steer you, no hype or hero and despite dinero
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| Coming and going I perfected my flowing fluently
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| Mobb with the Procussions, there’s nothing you can do to me
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| You or me?, I usually kill it about two to three
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| Barz in. Your sparing with arson. |
| Tom foolery
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| Snatch up all your jewelry and hand it to the homeless
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| My condolence to your raps I body bag is just a bonus
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| Labels wanna own us, we could never be a sound slave
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| Walking down the path that I paved upon the ground laid
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| Years ago. |
| With many years to go, cheers so here’s to those!
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| Peeps that persisted, don’t get it twisted I’m here to grow
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| Time is never over till the most high decides it is
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| Think I’m getting weak or at my peak? |
| I be surprising kids
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| Sliding lids back, vibing as I spit raps
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| Switch back to writing graff and cats be like «he did that?»
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| Put up, what up
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| Bo Bo Bo
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| Suckas wanna flow but they got no show
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| So drop that, low end
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| Hands up, show them
|
| Stand up, throw them
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| Fists in the air now
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| Hold them up
|
| Hold them up
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| Hold them up
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| Fists in the air now
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| Hold them up |