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Who Is The Dope
Lyricist Of The Month
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Bomb Spot Lyricist Of The Month |
| "The Best From VERBAL TACTICALS ...Could It Be You???" |
December 1999 Dope Lyricist
Hot Sh#T
Originally posted on November 26, 1999 at 19:22:39
Y'all niggas say Myztik's crazy
Thats right niggas, I'm nuts like testicles
Morph to a liquid, get all in ya blood vessels
I hang my feet ova the sides of train vestebules
I battle everyone from geniuses to homosexuals
Now it's yall turn to fall victim to this acidic salivation
Myztik swings the knife durin this verbal castration
He cant break the code of my classification
Encryption
My mission, to bring an end to wack MC's tryin to take whats mine
Now half yall niggas, who can't compensate for my skills, is in my sight
I gotta rip these niggas up, make sure the shit I spit is tight
On-sight and precise
Cause now Myz is rollin the dice
Because some of yalls skills and miniscule and microscopic, like lice
So he betta think twice bout the shit he be spittin, before he gets sliced
These lyrics will Mug ya like the root beer
Strike fear into the hearts of MC's with pathetic asperations
Tryin ta get a job without a high school education
Because ya playin yaself like masturbation
But yall shit is only a few inches off the ground
Monotone shit
Myztik's head is in the clouds
Surround sound
Head pound, get ate like the Ground Round
I cease to astound
Come on dogg, dont hate, give a playa pound
November 1999 Dope Lyricist
Ellegance
Verbal Misery
Originally posted by Ellegance on October 25, 1999 at 23:19:08:
Im ready to snap like bar straps of bitches that are flat
verbal ghat/catch you during your herbal knap blow out your back
i think tonight ive craked gone nuts bananas lost my marbles
vocals piercing my tounge like ravers wit barbells
ima mavel like the comic label boming stable
depicting fables wit wax on the tables/styles fatal
fuck cable fuck television fuck dvd fuck cds
take it way back to 8 track that shit aint nothing ta me
ima leave your eyes puffy like that mc hammer impersonater
let my dj jam the fader/off the beat youll find it only caters
im not a player hater i hate the team coach and cheerleaders
ear doctors gonna have a bleeder if you get near the speaker
im off the meters the hook the chain coming off the brain
the cause the blame the pain that drains your peacful side away
straighup i hit you sideways when im coming down
basically that means form all angles you got clowned
fuck a pund real cats give me tons when im done
you fall off like tails after bees have stung
swift wit the tounge like porno stars licking clit
head blown out of proportion like don kings hair wit a pic in it
open like a virgins asshole wit a dick int it fuck a gimmick
like aint no picnic/so all heads better make like els split quick
digest h2o liquid quit sips before verses on beats perfect
but this hell im ive been lurching makes me seem if its worth it
now these feeling have surfaced/i wouldnt suggest battle
cause ill twist the words like dyslexics playing scrabble
burn that ass like cattles/losing patience filled with hatred
in hip hop i keep beat til thought ejaculate like masturbation
this is not an exaggeration/just a display of a soul drifted away
got big lines like toucan sam sniffing the yah
deep like xrays through you and your marshalls bought fubu
riffing wit me is trying to get props breaking in a to to
fuck the whos who no mc right reps dont excite me
your off to a bad start like the line flow like a harpoon daily and nightly
cats is getting soft on me
fed up...ready to snap
ellegance
oc
oral creations
October 1999 Dope Lyricist
Top Prospect
Microphone Fiend Rehab
Originally Posted by Top Prospect aka Illogic on September 08, 1999
Cloned, microphone fiends get cleaned at the rehab
Now the only rhymes they know is that bitch LeAnn
So step up with nine of your best raps you fag
I'll walk off laughing with eight heads in a duffle bug
And bring your bitch to spit like she's a breath of fresh-air
Your bitch wouldn't be fresh if she fucked the Prince of Bel-Air
So you can suck my dick til my fuckin' balls cave-in
Cause I stab more hoes than psychos at the Days-Inn
"Half-Man,Half-Amazin"/ Cause in general
I got half this game camped out around my genitals
Like a midevil king get skulley on his thrown
I'm blowin' you bastards to kingdom cum, so hold your chrome
Just the thought of tryna' smoke my phat sack
Is more cancerous than the corpses of the rat pack
Feeding you nuts a semen sandwhich, takin' advantage
So hide that stained dress, 'fore your reputation is damaged
And your banished from Hot-97
For taking it backdoor on the backstreet with Kevin
I straight lose control when it's time to bust
Cause my nuts are so big,my dick needs a fuckin' crutch
Nigga what? Tryna' find an emcee more fit to rhyme
Is like Kelly Price and Big Pun tryna' sixty- nine
Peace emcees
Top Prospect
Organized Crhyme
September 1999 Dope Lyricist
Ellegance
Blah Blah Blah..No Ones Listening….By Ellegance
Original Post Date August 23,1999
through the trials and tribulations of this game..i stand alone
one hand grabbing for the dream the other a microphone
i write my poems with positive topics in mind
but fury and thoughts combine and negative energy flows through lines
i realize that harsh reality locks down my mentality
hatred virtual like reality bringing havoc to those who battle me
my talons be sharpened im heartless filled with darkness
leave you wig parted dont get with this useless jargon
bought your cd for a bargain..in the sales bin next ta hammer
but his second cd when that gangster was wearing bandanas
you must of gone bananas think ive losed my touch
so all you crab ass new mcs get off my nuts
too many fronts cats hit to many blunts
aint rocked enough stunts they get capped like a dunce
i strike with a punch to scrunch facial features
lyircally i beat ya thorugh vibrating speakers
these faking teachers substitutes with no degees
cats dont even know off me but they already know the steez
i hopelessy travel this earth searching for some sort of refuge
but this culture begins to possess you..your sickened once its left you
i save my breathe to bless you with long verses
got the fate of the world on my shoulder like straps on purses
you sound like you rap wack on purpose?whats the drill yall kill me
i keep your mind imprisioned unfairly like mumia up in philly
youre a big willy?look a small cock to me
you whole flows a mockery a hiphop bought mc
i fought ta be in the position i am and im still at the bottom
the industrys rotten the old school ways now forgotten
spotten to many sneaks dj take too many breaks
not enough mixtapes these mcs shits fake
too many toys cats posing to be b-boys
and all their beef is fake like it was mad from soy
no joy in this planet souls searching should be abandoned
undergrounds heads left stranded ccause we're the only one that understant it
ellegance
oc
August 1999 Dope Lyricist
Originally Posted by Nefarious Da' IllahmentaL, {C} {A} on July 03, 1999
Verse 1.....
The world is a whirlwind of drama with brief instances of peace and tranquility, let me try
to explain to the best of my ability, super-powers who boast nuclear capabilty, the world is
in distress the threat of nuclear disaster ready to send the world into the hereafter, the
circumstances between the second world war and the crisis in Kosovo share an uncanny
resemblance factions wanting genocide to solve their problems, third world countries
relying on their protectorate sovereigns, corrupt politicains trying to gain prominence
while manipulating the sentiments of the innocent using music and lifestyle as martyrs,
something isn’t right when 10’s of thousands Albanians are being slaughtered, the world
need to prioritize and strategize, it seems we are deteriorating at the same rate the ozone
depletes, a word to the wise...we all share this earth that lies beneath our feet.......
Verse 2....
Famine ubiqtuous, the population of this sphere acts if they were blind to the fact, what’s
that? Maybe you’d change your mind if you saw into the eyes of a starving child or a baby
crying wild from a lack of food for once someone lend out a helping hand and maybe, just
maybe you’ll get some gratitude, I can’t believe some of these peoples attitudes, taking
everything for granted, I just hope these people see the other way before the tables are
turned on them and they see what it’s like to be one of the less fortunate a lifestyle of
poverty and crime is not so easy to forfeit, just narrating the world’s order the way I see
fit, apocalypse is destined unless the sphere we inhibit exhibits
the riddance of ignorance......
Verse 3.....
Just a look into the future from the eyes of a prophet, gas companies monopolizing on
their trade for mere profit, scupulous CEO’S trying to gain status, only time will tell when
the world’s stock market will meet the fate like the TITANIC’S ballast, world depression,
I can only imagine what will happen next, mass hysteria and deviance at an all time high,
technology moving at the speed of light, chemical weaponry with high tech trajectory hits
home as harsh reminder of ‘what if?,’ armageddon day the..the flooding of the Grand
Canyon like a giant reservoir filled up to it’s cliffs, seas ravage from tidal waves and
tsunamis, atomic bomb blast one after another, the earths resources plunged asunder,
lightning and thunder, the only thing you can do is close your shutters and wonder what
fate awaits, an opening to hells’ gate? Or does god have another plan for man, must he
eradicate and judge, for another civilization to reincarnate, can you relate? The second
coming of a new civilization is on the brink, what do you think? That we’d inhabit this
world forever, such a naive mindstate to think you could escape our creator’s endeavour...
Peace Out
Nefarious The Overseer {C}erebral {A}nthropology
July 1999 Dope Lyricist
After Taking a Breather…..Original post date 6/10/99
by Kevvy Kev
I beat emcees badly? an undastatement to the word,
its like I battle wit "coke"bottles the way i give a"surge"
to any emcee, my shits so tight Im pinchin ants nerves,
in fact, my flows da shit like windshields under flocks of birds
Im poppin herbs, but more than wit words, a verse spiritual,
cuz if imbeciles survive my lyricals? heavens call it a miracle
Im darin-you, to catch this spear-wit-ya-tooth,... idiot!!,
forget-it-kid, you talk the rough shit, but you aint livin it,
you just spittin it, kickin shit, I been wrote and told about ,
boasted about leavin the devils advocates toasted out,
a goldenchild? kid Im more like a platinum-wise man,
wit more lyrics than all of Motown's combined band's,
I define Man, wet dry lands just for the hell of it,
my B-boy fly stance, burnin emcees just for the smell of it,
reverse ya propellers-kid, step foot on solid ground,
no need to be jealous kid, there's always room for clowns,
in this zealous biz, but I aint the one to put on the smiley face,
wit out a trace, Im crushin any tester to try my taste,
and watch their face, as they go "damn this shit is nasty!",
so ill i got poisoness darts scared to fly pass me,
scientists cant even class me, yo its just maraculous,
the way Im havin this, fire flow off my tonge like a dragons kiss,
and acid hits, couldnt leave a nigga more fucked up,
opposin semi-auto vocals? and get ya core bucked up,
or get roughed up, by blows that hit ya eye cavity savagely,
my capacity? the speed of light couldnt blind you more rapidly,
and I aint actin see, me bein the illest is just a fact that be,
on collabs my verse is last cuz niggas dont dare to rhyme after me,
Im splashin frees, bringin faggots to knees in agony,
takin out whole rappin leagues, mental sicker than butch cassidy,
you'll feel my raptures freeze, even if you dont deserve to,
Kevvy still crackin emcees, got'em runnin home like a curfew.....
June 1999 Dope Lyricist
laveideM the SicKesT
"The Emcee's Path to Righteousness"
voltage sent when i push molted pens across the vice of paper
gleaming eyes send screaming cries thus leading you to Christ the savior
hopeless redemption only through the lives i savor
to sacrifice with wrath and might send foolish men to flee their labor
darkened and dismal paths of light vengeance when i grab the mic
notebooks and folders fastened tight thunderous laugh when i grasp a life
only half will pass the plight that leads them to the promise land
believing the lies of an honest man reading the marks of a psalmist hand
drop the gems to piss on urchins and thoroughly watch the bliss of serpents
parts of corpse i deal to merchants for just a wisp or kiss from virgins
stagnant figures clutch the gravel when the stranger enters from his travel
each strife i cross is a life that’s lost a mystery to be unraveled
flawless sins with cloak and dagger stalks the ambit of dormant dreams
lawless men choke and stagger the strike thus leaves a pouring stream
whispers churn as grievance mark eminent forces leaving sparks
to strip the virtuous women’s egg breeding helpless seeds in dark
basting in their elms of girth their ego overwhelms the earth
this lie from birth lay frail and dwell in pastures of my realms of mirth
each critter critiqued therefore will be measured with the bitter and sweet
who amongst the living gods will bring the rods to deliver the meek
garments of blackened masks worn by trolls to smite the ones in lovely robes
who will face he who holds the soul in an ink infested bloody scroll
ssssssssssss
May 1999 Dope Lyricist
NeXXX TeXXX
Nexxx Texxx Keystyle
fuck impediments i rap with many vetereans and rookies,
wage bets with bookies even go against the oddsmakers in vegas,
for todays age is filled with too many hiphop traitors like yankee free agents making
significant raises,
witouth earning their wages artifical skill supplanting the realness,
for you could clone a cactus but as lyrical rappers i still
don't really feel-this,
with tracks totally dum and useless zero overbite cuz ya sharp words are toothless,
like danny devito you co-star on a track but as mic stars your far from being ruthless,
your clueless like when you get dissed for being wack
and claim keystyle to cover up what the real truth-is,
fronting troopers acting underground and d-low with a
corny freeflow,
shoot a freethrow make you miss then i take air like the nexxx plane at heathrow,
i ain't impressed with your free's i'm colder then
antartica hotter then islands with lucious virgins,
unprotected wrecking peoples interior without the anethestic
injected into veins by surgeons,
i'm lurking right here in the background, like police drug raids your wack rhymes i'm gonna
crackdown,
fuck your phatsound,
nigga backdown, i get vocaler then any domestic disputes,
thinking you hiphop cause you recently purchased the roots,
you get boots from these timbs i distort the look of normal
limbs,
body parts become limper then a man with a bizkit,
cuz alternative niggas front like they down but can't even ripshit,
these fucking misfits i hate these ass talkers,
toddler rappers can't stand so they reside in damn walkers,
having moms feed them there gerbers,
as i bring a violent storm to worn weather channel observers,
what my curve is nolan ryan soft toss or hardheater
and fracture your facial feature cuz my intention originally was to beat ya,
set it straight let you finally meet your maker,
while i chill in crystal clear water with shortys in jammica on the sands while i catch a tan,
so just go home and practice man,
i snatch your grams your titles your purses set matches
to your damn verses,
while you look up new terms from word searches,
pull the curtains and close what you write cuz its not
cohesive,
worthless material i digest easy your metabolsim process
slow so your flow never pleases,
catching diseases from this easter feast i'm off your famine,
play a hard card game casino watch your backout like gammon,
with rays of gamma my UV strikes cuz melonomia from ozne
depletion,
complete anhilitation orgasim my essence loaded shooting
off the el nino season,
without the whose and whats, the fruits and sluts,
for your flows cut like the hair of dykes at barber shops,
these parting shots leave you more drunk then toppless
chicks at mardi gra....
peace.
Nexxx TexxX
April 1999 Dope Lyricist
KeVVy KeV
Non Written Keystyle
Kick shit hot like desert eve's , flowin ministries, wit killin tendencies,
cross the seven seas to crash ya legacies,
bezzle me, wit rhymes and tend-to-see, a livin similie,
son I beg-of-thee, to try to sever me, or try to step to me,
if you was shit streaks in my BVD's you couldn't get next to me
God blessin me, to drop shit like how intestines be,
dress to "T", straight ripped the mic of all electricity,
droppin more "gems" then Home Shopping Network on a Sunday,
niggas wishin the could be like KEVVY KEV for just one day ,
but they herbs, that's my word, it's like battlin serb's,
dropin hotter than 100 degrees, but murder in tha third,
Cross my path and meet the wrath of a lyrical psychopath,
the one you can't surpass, left ya crew bashed and neck pieces in a cast,
continuously I kick menuer to fertilize and mature,
my lyrics galore, and shine more than Sza Sza Gabour,
wit all her Ice on, wit the lyrical strength to grip like a python,
if you within my opponents spacing then you gettin sprayed like krylon,
before the nights gone, too many victories no count in one hand,
ridiculous to think that KEVVY catches an "L" to only one man,
crushed so many rappers I should have somethin like the AIDS quilt,
and make a square for every emcees status I turned to nothin but filth,
keep ya comments, ya words mean nuttin to me, less than "zilch",
my shits so fly you'd think I was Mr. Hanky tip toe-ing on stilts,
ain't no doubtin, when weak emcees start to crowd-in, I gets'em bouncin,
to think they had chance, you must of had higher hopes than the Atlanta Falcons,
I go clean or X-rated and catch more "beeps" than callin Cali on redial,
call it "keystyle" or "freestyle", I'm still givin bitches the "penial"
fuck micons, if I beat you I want ya brain mantled where my car dash is at,
wack cats always talkin shit, their mouth ain't nuttin but a second ass crack.
Stay on point
KEVVY KEV
R.I.T.
VT
March 1999 Dope Lyricist
B-iLL
TRU MASTERS, free wit the keys, sorta by B-iLL
i'm a truemaster you can check my credentials/
and second guess my ass if i don't light that mental/
hard like heavy metal, touch the floor with the pedal/
touch your jaw with my left and bless the paper with my pencil/
mentally i'm skitzophrenically comin at you/
big bill is my ill personality that will smash you/
collabin with disaster, i blast the ringmaster/
faster than the last so i can blow right past you/
you bastard, you lasted less than your five seconds of fame/
your cipher's so short that mr. rork missed the plane/
i've been labeled insane and man, i don't give a fuck/
like eminem and a million men that's servin their bids in jail and stuck/
what? my verse is as indelible as my tag/
and that two car mural that says your rep is nothing but fag/
i worked four hours on that shit in the middle of darkness/
and now it rolls by you everyday in Charles Gardens/
so i beg your pardon for making your view on life hardened/
regardless as an artist i'll be baby breath to your fartin/
my margin of error brings terror through this era/
I perfected what you expected and made record clearer/
there's a million and one mc's, I'll be the million second/
connectin mic checks with intellect is how i'm wreckin/
everywhere i'm down so down you'll never see me/
only listen to my records check my steeze and wanna be me/
mc's be tryin to peep my cd before release/
but don't unleash the beast at least until i've completed my masterpiece/
my ultimate release is a documentary of hell/
a simple man's journey through the depths of nine levels/
keep the high trebels but even it out with a bass box/
my lines are inclined for open minds to feel the rhymes i rock/
hip hop literature is bigger than anyone knew/
from lyricists lounge to lyrics profound from underground avenues/
And when I come through you'll feel hungover from the rush/
Of blood to your head from visualizing what I bust/
So try to visualize a vigil of wise men in a cipher/
A shaman, a philosopher, a sculptor, a poet and writer/
and with their backs turned to you it's burning you/
To ask what they're saying to see if you could learn it too/
but when they all turn around you see the same damn expression/
it's the five personalties of my soul in lyrical session
PEACE~
February 1999 Dope Lyricist
Top Prospect
I STILL FU&K H.E.R. posted by Top Prospect aka Illogic
I backtrack to the days as a young rapcat/
I sat back listenin' to the box waitin for a phat track/
Back then the hype was all I knew about/
Didn't care about substance but bought whatever knew was out/
Cop a tape on release date to some new heavyweight/
But his shit often hit as soft as the midgets featherweight/
Heads had less juice then 8-year olds who masterbate/
While I fiened for tracks so phat they lactate/
I cooked up a remedy, for the disease that was killing me/
Had to figure out a way to save face like Hilary/
So I put the pen to the paper,and expanded my capers/
But my shit was so weak Uncle Vicks didn't catch the vapors/
Didn't quit understand, I wrote listenin' to Snoop, that nigga was the man/
But it was hard to expand if I never drove a Lex Coup,
or even had a gat in my hands/
So I started to crave niggas who could rip a mics by night/
Didn't depend on gimmicks or wack videos by Hype/
It's all good to have no limits, and love your own image/
But niggas is as unappealing as Popeye with no spinach/
So I did my homework til my fuckin' dome hurt/
Dug up tracks from Rakim like they were homegrown dirt/
Common Sense, Kool G and Kool Keith to say the least/
Without the prefix Big,Cool, or Ice you weren't a beast/
Dumb kid thought I loved the music and the culture/
But she's as misguided as I joint project sculpture/
I understood when Common laid it down I knew it was all good/
Cause like him I thought it was cool she was with the boyz n' the hood/
But lyricists became as scarce as pyramids/
The epidemic continues to grow far beyond serious/
I was raised to love no bitch, no matter if the clit was good enough to get licked/
Just get her spring off the tip, flip the script then dipped/
But disc after disc my heart gets flipped/
I think I'm fallin' for the girl but she keeps flippin' mad scripts/
She stoles gets the dick through he hole of the compact disc/
Learned to get her open from the lyrics I spit/
As seeds get sewn I may grow to love her/
At least I can say that I Still Fu#k Her....................
Top Prospect aka ILLOGIC
OC
January 1999 Dope Lyricist
Paraphraze
"Life, by Dee Cypher aka Paraphraze"
The You-knighted states are run by capitalism, making bastards of children,
stabbing at women, for dough we sell our souls, cash in our visions,
taking small steps forward, then gradually slipping,
that dastardly mission was set off by those who are actually living,
the rest of us have been dead for years, only sleepwalking,
while politicians keep talking at the thief auction,
ill sell you this candidate for your eternal soul,
promises of gold unfold, yeah, you might reach your goals,
go to the polls, and put your coin in and pull the lever,
its gambling with life, the reality is truth and fact are severed,
cuz the truth is, we should all be doing much better,
but the fact is, we cant live unless these bastards let us,
but what they do is let us die, watch as brains fry, maintain? why?,
for centuries they tell the same lie,
everyone is equal, equality is in the eyes of the be-holder,
if you holding it dont matter whats your color, you get over,
whats left for the rest of us? dreaming of lexus',
weed spots, bottles of henny and rock heads live next to us,
my best friend is a bottle of saint ides,
still a buck seventy, milks 3 dollars, im saying why?,
cuz theyd rather have you hooked on a bottle, going full throttle,
to your demise, i despise my role models,
i cant identify with the people i see on television,
complaining about a salary cap is irrelevant bitching,
this cat makes about 40 bucks for every time he breaths,
while crime succeeds in the streets i give a fuck about these salaries,
i cant even find a job, in a city that never sleeps,
so my mic techinique is my only release from the street,
write about 16 bars for every time ive gone thru some shit,
my music spit is the only fluid that removes the losing script,
i take my destiny in my own hands, i got plans for my fans,
my jam will be playing in every single walkman,
thats the dream, the reality is i dont even have a demo,
even though my mentals credentials got more miles than a rental,
but i pray that some day my prophecy will take shape,
and my tape will play for all of you to recognize the great.
Peace
Phraze
O.C.
December 1998 Dope Lyricist
Young Moe
"Pilgrim Pilage"
well let's give thanks to the people that commited genocide/
invited the Savages to their table for premeditated homicide/
indiginous people not remembered lets just stuff ourselves with turkey/
milions of people were slaughtered but we don't give a fuck just pass the gravy/
mothers,fathers,and babies paid the price for our so-called civilization/
anyone with dark skin was killed without any hesitaion/
so let's give thanks to our forefathers for wiping out entire races/
no remorse was felt they were just empty faces/
whole villages raped and pillaged for the sake of their children/
what the fuck is this I thought they were supposed to puritans/
no sins commited untill we stepped on the land and spread our views/
they were said to have scalping the innocent but wrongfully accused/
abused by the ways of the eurocentric thought/
taught to kill at will in the battles that we faught/
enlisted them to do our dirty work paid with wips of the lash/
our ground was stained by bloodbaths evrytime we decided to clash/
the Natives knew they they were born with unalienable rights taken by us/
but still we give thanks to the murderers cus the history book we trust/
so from now on fuck thanksgiving give thanks to indiginous people/
there's no reason in helll to give thanks to pure evil/
November 1998's Dope Lyricist
Ellegance
"Even if you hate me at least read this!!"
Stay strong long lives come to quick ends
lose a family or a friend for some drug loot to spend
i wish i could mend the wounds of mother earth
i feel her i hear her crys understand her hurt
her girth and agony are not caused by trash or litter
but brought unto her by those who are hateful and bitter
like me but government and society are to blame
we all prisioners don't belive were free and were brave
too many days but not enough time in em
too many snakes secreting the deadly venom
you say i should be glad where im at because im free
but pick up a bible those rights are already given to me
its driven me insane my brain swells with the pain
your just a social security number no you're not a name
how could someone leaglly own land
its like taking his own creation right out of god's hands
too many kids trying to be someone they're not
they its for survial shooting rivals on the block
with mad glocks cocked ready to got to war
dismissing the phrase the pen is mightier than the sword
more and more people were losing when will it stop
from biggy to pac all beacuse of hip hop
but why no one can justify it
hold your heads down like usual deny it
but its all real young kids holding steel
money goes to waste give poor people a meal
im a lucky one my parents had the harsh life
didn't want to see their child brought up through the trife
day and night working hard to make it out the slums
while we took advantage but now the time has come
to pay our dues sorry we it really was appreciated
had to get it out guilty conscience elleaviated
im hateful and arrogant but i know right from wrong
and so do you if you understand my song
and i understand kids are left parentless
but take this to heart puti it in inherit this
transparent kids stay tuned this is dedicated to you
value your friends keep the bond true
there was a time when my rhymes weren't this deep
but intellecte reigns supreme and talk is cheap
i speak from the deepest intellegnece
so after this is peeped you'll know why im ellegance
one love
ellegance
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