[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
