Something To Speak About

I'm Huey P. Newton with Air Force One's on

Doctor Martin Luther King with two guns on

I'm one zone short of a break

One chronic blunt away from a classic

I'm a motherfucking bastard... literally

I let my lyrics overflow on the page

Until they spill on the beat

I do what you niggas can't

I am what you niggas ain't

You say you an artist motherfucker then paint...

That's the base line

The motivation for Jamie to play rape line...

I paint pictures in my mind

Imagine who dead if I see a flat line

You niggas ain't like me

And it's likely that I'm Spike Lee in some coke white Nikes

At the Knicks game with my legs crossed like a boss

How a nigga from Compton become the talk of New York?

We been broke so long it's so hard

Hiding from behind my scars

That's something to just think about...

It was no dope, just hope in my heart

Tired of reaching for the stars

Now, I'm something you can speak about

Look into my eyes, ain't too much I ain't seen

Except death and the penitentiary gates leave...

My mark on the world 'fore I cut

The artist homie spoken with the potenent brush

Paint a picture of a world made up

I try to be different but I'm just like them

Fairy tales and fantasies of made up jims

I never went as far as rocking fake ones still...

The pressures of life, if that's the career

To say what they want, and not what you feel

What's inside your soul is uncomfortable fear

To let it out the only way you be clear

Ain't been in a Lear

But you can bet I rapped about it

So far life good without it

Strive for what's great though the hood is grounded

And punishment can't leave the block but I'm bouncing

We been broke so long it's so hard

Hiding from behind my scars

That's something to just think about...

It was no dope just hope in my heart

Tired of reaching for the stars

Now, I'm something you can speak about

Aye homie I'm just talking my shit

Everyday hustle I'm just authoring hits

Scorsese penned last puff then flick

Light up and let the world hear this

Sharp as the guitar that plays in the background

Torn as the baton that's passed from the playground

Youngen with the slick tongue thugin'

Years later, opened up the oven

Years later, who knew that they love me

And thank me for everyday hustling

Consider me the king but I act like I don't want it

Lab rat, elaborate, rapping performance, stage is enormous

Doing my gig

Feeling myself like Mac D.R.E

We be the best like Fat Joe dj

The ghetto to a multi-mil estate to know that...

We been broke so long it's so hard

Hiding from behind my scars

Now, that's something to just think about...

It was no dope just hope in my heart

Tired of reaching for the stars

Now, I'm something you can speak about