23500
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It's a new thing, makes you wanna swing
While us MC's rap, doin' our thing
It's not singin' like it used to be
No, it's rappin' to the rhythm of the sure shot beat
It goes one for the money, two for the show
You got my beat, now here i go
I start to think and then I sink
into the paper like I was ink
When I'm writing I'm trapped in between the lines
I escape when I finish the rhyme
Woke up this mornin
About half past three
All the womens in town
Was gathered round me
Sweet gals was a moanin
Sylvester's gonna die
And a hundred pretty mamas
bowed there heads to cry
six in the mornin
police at my door
fresh Adidas squeak
Across my bathroom floor
Out my back window
i made my escape
Don't even get a chance
To grab my old scool tape
some call it fate but I arise
with my head held high in the sky
a kiss on my cheek to help me get by
rap it up I'll take it
in the midnight hour the hour of power
some may have to take a cold shower
got my stero blasting but I'm still asking
for prayers with a lot of layers
have something to share
thank God i'm still here
