I'm so underground the Lords are calling me Chief Rocka
Ha, peace to all who remember that song. Anyway, down to business, nothing special, just some rhyme to kill time before studying for my final. Peace.
I smoke emcees every time, call it chronic-logically./ I got you hooked on my songs like the Phonics policy./ Bombin herbs with uncommon words for these anomolies./ You're the number one nominee for Operation Wack/ and couldn't defeat me if you were replacing facts./ I got lyrics doper than being cased in crack./ Who could dis it/ so futuristic I got time racing back./ Next to actup gets taken down by this lyrical mack truck./ Breaking ground as I'm making sound for those with wack luck./ Providing calamities for the ignorant speaking./ Originality-seeking/ how you figure it's peeking./ Teaching clarity showing why my bigger wit's leaking./ My tribe beats you on our quest like Aleed Shaheed Muhammed./ Only thing I see being spit back is your crew's vomit./ Explode like two comets/ burning emcees like new chronic./ Iller than a stadium of rats and a plague that's bubonic./ Clever wit that could burn forever being never lit./ Thousands lose as I'm housing crews/ now all together-quit./ Sever writs from fingers that let wackness malinger./ I don't hesitate to elevate/ lyrics go higher than bingers/ but you cause ears to be covered like Ja-Rule being a singer./ Like a bee's stinger/ your first attack is your last one./ You might blast guns/ but I drop bombs that you run fast from./ Leave every task done/ destroying herbs clout in a word bout./ Stopping your hits, striking you down before a third out./ I'm only restrained by a slow pencil./ Got infinite potential/ but your lyrics are lacking like Washington with no Denzel./ Tricky metaphors that I use to take emcees' heads for scores./ Killing the English language like it's never bled before./
1999 C. Hopkins
Peace to all mcs.
SICK!SICK LIKE A GAL OF HENNESY AND A GAL OF ICE CREAM!
UNTIL MY RESURRECTION!
Anotha one Fron Sturbance...
NO Doubt Kid...
Alwayz Blazing It...
GOod Flow...SOme Tight Punchez...
Luckz in the Tourney For You To...
~Second City Sunz~
shit is mad tight D...good lusk with the finals ma man
nice post as usual d. i think you have had more school work/finals than any student ever in the history of education. maybe you need to consider switching your major dog. anyway, tight lyrics. peace.
Damn...lotug...where them cats at??..last I heard, they're just called the lords...no more underground, i guess...damn...well, anyway, this is more of that illness that Disturbance is known for...
"...death to the ILLUMINATIon...I keep hope a lie 'cuz it's over for you!"
Yo, that was ill as hell. Keep that shit comin'.
holy shit my boy fav. lines I got lyrics doper than being cased in crack, Only thing I see being spit back is your crew's vomit, but you cause ears to be covered like Ja-Rule being a singer, I'm only restrained by a slow pencil./ Got infinite potential/ but your lyrics are lacking like Washington with no Denzel./ , and Killing the English language like it's never bled before "D" this shit was mad banging.....Luv bro Luv