[Verse 1]
These lyrics are flammable
Be careful when you handle em
This is dope material, you still hear me though
I’m am not a king, I’m a scholar
Holler if you can
I’m not Jew, Muslim, or Christian
You got to start listening
No Violin, I told you, I play the viola
I am capable, just rock the turntable
I am not a story, or bedtime fable I am your reality, and a member of humanity No need for chat, I don’t carry a gat, or bust a cap I live in the suburbs, and that’s where it’s at I am from Walnut California, but let me warn you I respect a philosopher, not a snake, rat or gossiper My opponents talk smack, so I go Italian, and give them a whack! Because I’m Mister Big Mouth, straight from the couch Yeah I like to boast and brag, all about my swag People always complain, how my attitude is profane But even though I wanna, I never smoke Marijuana My music is the ganja, my soul and nirvana

[Verse 2]
This is a damn song, please don’t get me wrong These lyrics are ill, so locate your nearest hospital I know some fellas are jealous; I’m just a bit rebellious My lyrics have soul, and it only grows It’s catastrophic, if it were a beer, you’d be an alcoholic This is a brag, be careful, or you might end up in a body bag A body bag that is black, now you know not to attack One for the adrenaline, 2 for the loot, 3 for the rob Enough money for a drive-thru blowjob My hip hop is doesn’t stop, like 187 on an undercover cop No need for Snoop and Dre, my lyrics always slay I used to sport chucks, lyrics are skill, and no luck Now I’m into blogging rap genius, love, women, and adidas Of my soul, hip hop is my extension, I always give attention Unless they’re whack, then I don’t give a rat’s ass If shake spear knew how to mc, he’d probably be dope as Rakim You see, all he would need is a DJ named Eric b This hip hop runs through my veins, I’ll live through the pain Fuck the fame, I just want enough to feed a mouth, fuck the gain That’s what it’s all about, no need for teeth to be chrome fuck Lil Wayne, Go big or go home

[Verse 3]
You just stutter, I’ll leave you hanging in the gutter My lyrics are intelligent and smart, my poetry is an art Though this is a song, consider it as a painting, and a little bit entertaining I know this line may not rhyme but never mind I take the risk; you just listen on mp3 or a disc Or maybe the radio, but they hate you know They play strictly crap, unless it’s an old school flow Criminal minded like a burglar, my lyrics commit murder Ryan Illness knows the business, I’m fearless, you fear this Rhymes so delicious, raps so vicious (Gucci Time Sample) You know my lyrics are murderous, and malicious Unstoppable, a Rebel, I take this shit to another level Another rank, I’ll be laughing all the way to the bank No thanks MTV, your garbage doesn’t interest me I’m putting you in my vocabulary, to replace low degree Vex like gum, No good hoodlum, or a Brooklyn Bum All those have the same meaning, I’ll leave you to your last crumb I’ll smoke you like a chamber, say your last prayer