Taxing

After I pose for the photos, address the press

I take a rest to let my rhymes digest

Into my brain to sustain and cultivate it

Take a penny for my thoughts, from copper I gold-plate it

Enrich my mind like wine till I find

What I need to exceed with speed, proceed line

Fold it, I take the mic, I grab it and I hold it

Then I walk to and talk to the crowd, cause yo, I sold it

You bought it, you thought it wasn't worth

But the record went gold, it sold, jerk

I'm worldwide, from girls I hide

Not gay, no way, but they all wanna ride

Mine, they bring me roses and wine

But I hate cheap sex, so next time

Come correct like an intellect

Okay, do you hear what I say? check

Yo, on the rhyme I'm a lyrical joy

And whoever shall front shall be destroyed

The lyrical composer, I produce all legit

My name's special ed and yo, your name ain't -

And I'm powerful in my stable mentality

Takin mc's, yes, of any nationality

Blitzin em, dissin em, off I'm pissin em

Makin em solo, broads won't be kissin em

You got taxed, face the facts

Now where's the jokes and all the wisecracks?

You made before you got slayed by the slayer

Special ed, dj akshun on the record player

Chillin, still in the back just maxin

Me in the front, to be blunt, I'm taxin

I'm taxin