Lookin’ at the time but I ain’t lookin’ at no Jacob
No food in the ‘frigerator, no toilet paper
Wonderin’ how he made it, so that make me a hater
Another rapper with big dreams
I’m on the outside lookin’ in at this big screen
Like this shit ain’t been the same since Pac and Biggie died
I’m wishin’ that this rap game would bring Lil’ Burn alive
But what the fuck is my opinion when niggas out here makin’ millions
And I ain’t got a goddamn dime
No pot to piss in, my rap’s the only thing I can say mine
So I’m out here on the grind
Just tryna get in where I fit
Cause on the street I’m the shit and niggas waitin’ for me to get legit
They know it’s all good when Burn come through the hood like Santa
And decorate the whole Alabama
- Lil’ Burn One “That’s Why I” (from Dirty’s album)
Look here, I’ma be real witcha
Lil’ mamas all up in my picture want me to stick it with my dill pickle
My supreme unique physique is superb
My play on words got ‘em feeding me hors d’oeuvres
I’m makin’ honey dips lose they composure
They beggin’ me to come over so they can get closer
They want closure from drinkin’ theyselves sober
Hopin’ that if they bend over they’ll get bent by my cobra
Oh! Girls aspiring to get rear-ended by my extended cab
My sweet talk is splendid
I come with game sharper than Gillette Mach 3
One of a kind conversation, you can’t out-talk me
They want position in this competition, they on a mission
Wishin’ that they was kissin’ on my composition
They got ambition, they dream to manage my extension
But this convention needs an intermission...
On the real, I got a mouthpiece
That’ll have ‘em dismantling they robe and laying naked on my couch seats
It don’t take much, every time my mouth speaks
I notice that the region around they crouch leaks
I graduated from the Mu Shu Academy
Is that the reason why these girls’ boyfriends mad at me?
Too much of my sugar might give ‘em a cavity
And oh, no, we can’t have that, now can we?
My premeditated propaganda
Got ‘em in they birthday suit like a Peeping Tom’s dancer
Yeah, they sexy, and I know that I”m handsome
But don’t ask the question if you don’t want the answer
That means don’t ask if I remember your name
I prob’ly don’t, but I bet I might remember your brain
Straight up, I’mma tell it to you simple and plain:
I got game, is there any more questions?
- PaulWall, “Why You Peepin’ Me” (“Chick Magnet”)
I kept my mouth shut through sign-ups, kept to myself
Watched these shittalkers fall without needing my help
I kept my mouth shut while other cats dreamed of this wealth
And thought about my younger brother growin’ up and his health
Kept my mouth shut through promos and lack of attention
And watched grown men fight for a CEO’s pelvic section
My mouth was shut through repetitive song credits
With albums coming softer than Mariah Carey Christmas records
Still silent when I nearly made it
Instead I’m dropping one of the weakest rhymes I’ve ever performed
Memph Bleek said the blind man wanted to meet us
That’s funny, ‘cause in hip-hop, Bleek’s about as blind as he is
Bit my tongue and didn’t ask for M.O.P.
Starin’ at Dame, Bleek, and Free, the “hell no” three
Do you MC? Hell no! Respect me? Hell no!
Would you be here without Jay-Z? Hell no!
You fuckin’ simple-minded blind to the fact idiots
Can’t seem to see that I hold more hip-hop in one of my fingertips
If even just one of you had a fuckin’ ounce of penmanship
You’d understand an MC battle and what it’s embedded with
The Young Gunz are like Down’s Syndrome kids on sedatives
Nonsense falling out their mouths if they don’t get their medicine
The “Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop,” beat just gotta be evidence
That bullshit’s gonna fly while I sit and wait for my genesis...
Now The Source wanna get racist to settle scores
Benzino CDs are gathering dust at the record stores
Print up a bullshit piece two months after the New Year
So what’s a real MC gotta do to get through here?
And after I get a page up in XXL
The Source wants to act like I shouldn’t trouble myself
I’d rather have a picture stuck up in the air and shot
Then get five mics for every fuckin’ album I drop
- Wreckonize, “Roc-A-Fella diss” (305hiphop.com mix CD)
We are all here for a reason on a particular path
You don’t need a curriculum to know that you’re a part of the math
Cats think I’m delirious, but I’m so damn serious
That’s why I expose my soul to the globe, the world
I’m trying to make it better for these little boys and girls
I’m not just another individual, my spirit is a part of this
That’s why I get spiritual, but I get my hymns from Him
So it’s not me, it’s He that is lyrical
I’m not a miracle, I’m a heaven-sent instrument
My rhythmatic regimen navigates melodic notes for your soul and your mental
That’s why I’m instrumental
- J-Ivy, “Never Let You Down” (from Kanye West’s “College Dropout” album)
Some might question if I’ve got the right to recite what I spit
‘Cause I never been indicted, or divided a brick
But my life is grit, all types of crisis and shit
I decided to risk it all to try to slide in the mix and get what I could get
See, I’m fighting negative odds
I knew it wouldn’t be easy but no one told me it’d be hard
As it is, I mean, the evil in the hearts of these men
Got me wonderin’ if I’ll ever see the reward at the end of the road
It’s kinda hard to remember your goals
When you grow where not many live to get old
I played the cards I was given and never listen to those
Who think different, ‘cause they inner soul is bitter and cold
I seen folk get destroyed by dope
Nevertheless, I’m blessed, so your boy got hope
I show love - to get it is a beautiful feeling
And if you hate me then blow a dick, ‘cause it’s a mutual feeling
- Poppy, “Am What I Am” (from PaulWall’s “Chick Magnet” album)
Email your 16 bars to JB@OZONEMAG.COM for consideration.
