Post by J$crILLa on May 5, 2004 19:29:43 GMT -5
T-CRAQ
I used to think 'bout my position, adapted my face to the situation/
never showed my aggressions, for acceptance by this fuckin' nation/
act brainless like the president, so they think their words are painless/
if I even not care bout your ass, I would still ask if you mind if I pass/
raised by the street's concrete, really think I gave up after this downbeat/
for you I act like a rich kat, half of my fuckin' ass get's laughed at/
in my life this was never commonplace, changed my face to see next days/
I cared 'bout wut you all did say, so I decided to take it your ways/
I was no more sumthin special, shit, I only tried to be beneficial/
my suite tyte like it's written official, fatal to look not social/
I'm going down like a elevator, but who the fuck is the instigator?/
should I say my new master? feel like an open door, everybody can enter/
a funeral accepts even more fun, now I'm not thugged out and own no gun/
stop laughing and listen son, my therapist says I shouldn't be around one/
I started to live my life like a earl, and treat this gurl like a pearl/
she left me after she saw me how I whirl, wut's wrong with dis gurl?/
now I'm telling myself fuck that, cuz when I'm honest I feel glad/
quitting my 2 mil. $ job as a diplomat, moving from my 3 mil. $ flat/
back to the streets of my hood, there where my real I is good enuff/
coulnd't be clean like a white dove, cuz my blood is not red it's rough/
J$CRILLA
let me ask yallz, 'to be or not to be?', now that is the real question/
cause societys progression, is in a landslide fallin towards regression/
see me stressin during anotha blunt session, learnin more lessons/
people insist on bein somethin theyre not, imitating B-I-G and Pac/
tryin to be gangstaz when theyre not, seein money and goin pop/
and its the same on the block, everyone tries to dress like they cool/
ride around bumpin ja-rule, not knowin they really look like a fool/
play by the rules, be yourself and not some clone of someone else/
make your own wealth, be original and put ya own Cds on ya shelf/
not just your voice to someone elses muzik, cuz that shit is foolish/
get in the game and dont abuse it, spit ya style and make it fluent/
you can let others influence, but please dont over do it, over use it/
make a beat and get into it, keep it real, not like M-T-V or B-E-T/
dont just copycat the latest 2-G-3 billboard charts number one C-D/
what you see on T-V, aint real, its all just a record labels creation/
past artist imitation, that quickly fools the young teens of the nation/
all you doing is becoming some big shot executives manipulation/
and you'll get dropped as soon as the label feels your unstable/
be their lil angel, follow they angles or get twisted like an ankle/
everyone went from Starter coats to havin they own clothin lines/
its a sign of the times, no longer is the rap game about the rhymes/
its about dollars and cents, becoming a pop-clone for the Execs/
and if you dont your a reject, people see ya disc and hit eject/
hip-hop turning pop, our artists need to give us fans some respect/
'to be or not to be?' the answer honestly has got to be 'not to be'/
and seriously this has got to me, sooner or later we must stop it G/
FIFTY PLUS
Physically remain or spiritually refrain I’ve read between the lines/
To be or not to be a torturous question I’ve pondered many times/
Pushed to the brink to find the spawn of suicidally connected rhymes/
Because I married Hip Hop doesn’t mean I gotta distort my image/
Studio gangstas is where skill less rappers start to tarnish and diminish/
Many a man of my kind tries to emulate a culture that he sees on television/
It’s like witnessing impersonators auditioning for the Slim Shady competition/
Walking the walk dressing for success, but the talk is hollow and with no soul/
Goin from fuckin’ Levis to oversized Lugz just to measure up to the protocol/
Individuality and originality used to be benchmarks, now these are very tangible/
Corporate ladders and industry snakes have made the demand for copycats substantial/
Now ya gotta talk about materialism the reaching of the Dream is no longer wholesome/
If ya wanna be recognized for skill alone, that’s just a precursor for thugless frontin’/
Murder, yayo, that boy that furl, all things that must be mentioned in a despicable world/
Instead of having ol lyrical fun, ya gotta pour out liquor and look at faces on murals/
But ya wanna know something, I will stay true, and never suffer from an identity crisis/
If I claim I ain’t a gangsta, I ain’t gon’ play one because uniqueness is too priceless/
This shit so fufillin’ steppin’ into a cipher pretty boy with a dress shirt and khakis/
And lookin’ on as so-called thugs stutter and clam up as they try hard to combat-me/
I said it before, and I’ll say it again, being an assassin is in the element of surprise/
I don’t have to mask my identity I just stare with cold eyes as they meet their demise/
