see.... im a gifted mother fucker, im on another level.
a street rebel, hot then flames produced by the devil.
hotter then any kettle, but i try to keep it real.
me myself and i, man we a hole nother deal.
i unlocked the seal to what i call rap pholosophy.
i believe i created the terms and words of rap-ology.
ppl follow me, so im what my father calls a leader.
reading the future of my oponents like a palm reader.
a glory seeker, and a glory road is what a i follow.
i rap about my past, but the past is hard to swallow.
tomorrow is another day, so a new chance will be heard.
another chance to do what yesterday couldnt serve.
some ppl think my rhymes are basic, but i know im hot.
so ima keep on rapping till there aint no time up in my watch.
i aint gonna stop, ima keep going till no air in my lungs.
my brain makes an idea, and ideas rolll right off my tounge.
some say ima bumb, no job so im in a trap.
ppl mad cus i make my money off of rap.
think of that, im trying to solve the mathmatical equation.
given by bush that brought danger to our nation.
salvation is slim, almost impossible to my young eyes.
a south side boy gonna spit till his mouth dry.
tears drop down our eyes, some answers with no questions.
young thugs learn lessons off of violents and agression.
im here to progress, progression is my motivation.
i pull my rhymes out the ripples of obliviation.
no hessatation off of everything i have written.
im quick at thinking ill take one second to listen.
the rest of my seconds are to acknowledge my gifted reasons.
rap gives me something to write about threw any season.........

drop feed... whatchu think...