[Verse 1:] Hip hop like drug in my veins Killing me harshly This could be [?] Don't start me In street life I'm hugging the flames Get this heat off me Tie the knot, eating not driving right in the iron hot seat I love hip hop for the lack of something worse to do I spit high then just rock, this is impersonal Free shows, flee flows, wonder if I'm breaking even Eating [?], worth of snacks just to start breaking even
[Verse 2:] Hating seeing what I love misused and abused Mind bleeding, confusion, focus, a loser suceeded I ask questions to answers and define reason Like cancer to a cigarette lung having fun, still breathing Smokers suck pot, no pun intended I'm tryin' to get big in the Bronks like Pun intended I'm still booking if your looking, still juking, still crazy Just got my straight jacket on, quickly lock it
I thought that I was all about it But my mind remained clouded from weed, without it What you read about it? Crazy man ran through the train car crowded Strapped with bang-bars, dramatic Expression in face destined to taste it While finessing the basics Essence of ancients like P.A.Z.E Keep it ten steps ahead like the KGB Beasts watching me harder than Jay-Z streets Cage me now, the search found a crazy nut You mangey cops Thats coming from the stage we rock Stoned, earth and home all alone With the peace of the block grown to daddy unknown Had his son known pop would he have left it alone? Never Out with the chrome, build the treasures of doom Represent home Slay to lay the rest of this poem to it's long lost kite unflown How long this gonna be going on?
[Chorus: x4] Hip hop like drug in my veins
[Verse 3:] In real life I'm still light and move at the speed of it A bad child on the mic, sometimes I just need a hit The difference of right and wrong Open mic and writing a song Someone I love or a chick that I like looking nice in thongs While you rush to work and rude people step on your feet I'm coming from the studio thinking deep, listening to beats You think that I wake after I rest in peace I live heavenly in hell, feeling well writing the heat
[Chorus x2]
[Verse 4:] They puting math[?] improper on us, want us dead Plus they couldn't care less if every corners red Hunted like cornish hens Even men making honest ends, born to sin Walk and take me out tournaments From hanging like ornaments to self-inflicted infortunates Do it to yourself like "who taught you this?" Bought you for a portion now Abortion is a landless mask And yeh my mans work the plans to command this cash