Smoking herbal and blowing circles
Nonverbally flirting with skirts, who showing virtue
Worthy ones, Proverbs 31, daughters of Zion, some be saying I'm a worldly son,
But still waters run deep,
Can't judge a book by its cover, or just the front sheet
You at the table feelin content with comments
Read a couple chapters first to get the context
I walk around with my chest on convex, still humble as a mumble though it ain't that complex
Suckas be phoning their rhymes in like bomb threats,
And got the nerve to wonder why the people ain't respond yet,
Another pusherman, panhandling projects,
A profits resolves them to being an object,
So let me keep it real and let you know I ain't flawless, I wanna make a bond this, is part of the process
I lied to my mom, ditched dimes at the prom, but never have I stole, or supplied marijuan, no coke, no pills, just head show bills, dope skills,
Ahead of my time, behind on bills, and honestly I ain't even got my mind on mills,
...but I got my biz tight, though so time will tell,
That's word to my clientel, I rock well
Might be the one who g'd off I-R-L
Didn't get to divorce you, but you can throw a halo at my horns like horseshoes, cuz now it's your move,
Don't take it as a sore lose, cuz it's plenty more dude,
I'm breaking bread with my people, chew your food,
I turned a new leaf then I twisted it,
Turned the other cheek and put my dick in it,
The vag was a masterpiece, a bas relief shaped like rabbit teeth
And if you're looking for me,
You ain't gotta look in the past,
What the fuck you gonna see?
Verse 2 (Truth Be Cold):
My hood full of drama like a soap opera,
I'm trying to break the curse like a witch doctor,
All I hear is "blocka, blocka" feel it in my chakra
Another nigga dead fucking with crooked coppers
Better come correct or get the shit knocked out ya,
Hit em with a couple "hail marys," "our fathers"
Used to be afraid of hell but nigga, why bother?
Ghetto like the wild West, better pack your revolver,
Can't live like a coward, rather die a martyr
Shit, our greatest fear is power, word to Coach Carter
They shot my nigga dead over marijuana,
No paperwork, just sprinkle a little coke on em,
Youth hurting, just sprinkle a little hope on em,
Ain't a saint but shit, I'm going to church on em,
They say the world is for the taking as usual,
But what profit a man to gain the world and lose his soul,
You addicted to fast money and rap shows,
I'm addicted to cheese too, no lactose
Black folks, I spit it for my people, you know that though,
and she say, that's the shit she can't stand,
Say it one more 'gin, that's the shit she can't stand
She say I'm too cold to be considered a human being,
So pro-black but them threads are European,
I told her carpe diem,
Only God can judge me, what the fuck I call freedom,
Just a visionary, trying to dodge a cemetary,
So I gotta come with something revolutionary,
You know it's necessary just to call it legendary,
I make em think about Malcolm like it's February
5 out of 5 in Creative Loafing (Jan, 2011) "I can’t explain in words just how much I LOVE THIS ALBUM, even 22 tracks deep “Self Titled” never grows tiresome." -Eric, Bloggerhouse.net Yamin Semali
