yo....check it....
this my ode to hiphop,my letter to hiphop,not a complaint cos i knew it was a heavy cross to pickup,still luv it though we aint seein d returns,but its time we seperate real mc's from d weak ones,
not a movement..dawg...its a witchhunt,still hang on to d mic till i see d big ones,u know like cash,bling...by hook or crook even if banks i have to stick up,wack nigga dissin me back..wats up wit dat,called up 2 of my men and left d snitch hurt,dipped in a game full of fakers,u know d bitch ones,who act hard ,yet couldn't bust a ryme witout breaking their neck,their words on my vest can neva connect,tryin to fade me wit d bitten words they collect,Pisces everly spittin correct,voltron,ride d mic steady while u weak cats couldn't hold on,rap cyclone,klepto steal d show from,d wack rapper beggin me to rap,so he can have something to bite on....
see my mic grip tighter than witches wit no panties...
universities ask me to teach verbal tactics....
damn its
jus a regular day in d life of Pisces Cee Ya
hands grippin a mic and a desert eagl to greet ya
so pick up a pen cos i got skill to teach ya