The illmatic Verses: Cant forget about you…

There comes a day in your life when you wanna kick back
Straw hat on the porch when you old perhaps
Wanna gather your thoughts, have a cold one
Brag, to your grandkids about how life is golden
So I will light a cigar in the corridor of the crib
Pictures on the wall of all the things that I did
All the money and fame i shoulda had, 8 by 10′s
of the whole Rat Pack inside of a big frame
Collidin’ with big names that could’ve made your career stop
All that, and your man is still here and I’m still hot
Wow, I need a moment y’all
See I almost felt a tear drop

When was the last time you heard a real anthem
Or Chase, or the that millionaire, the mansion
When was the last time you heard your boy Chase rhyme
Never on schedule, but always on time

These streets hold my deepest days
This hood taught me golden ways
Made me, truly this is what made me
Break me, not a thing’s gonna break me

Ohh, I’m that history I’m that block
I’m that lifestyle I’m that spot
I’m that kid by the number spot
That’s my past that made me hot
Here’s my life long anthem
Can’t forget about you

Can’t forget about the old school, Bam, Cas, Melle Mel, Flash
Rocksteady spinnin on they back
Can’t forget when the first rap Grammy went to Jazzy, Fresh Prince
Fat Boys broke up, rap hasn’t been the same since
So irregular, how it messed you up
when Mr. T became a wrestler
Can’t forget about Jordan’s retirement
The shot Robert Horry to win the game in the finals kid
Some things are forever, some things are not
It’s the things we remember that gave the world shock
They stay in a place in your mind so snug
Like who the person was with whom you first make love

Unforgettable, unsubmittable, I go by C now
Just one syllable, it’s the end cause the game’s tired
It’s the same vibe, Good Times had right after Big Mike died
That’s why the gangsta rhymers ain’t inspired
Heinous crimes help record sales more than creative lines
thats messed up
And I don’t wanna keep bringing up the greater times
But I’m a dreamer nostalgic with the state of mind
The past the past enough of it, aight then
But nothing gives me chills like Serjee does in the hive
Or my girl ‘Quise when her talk goes live
Or when she first did the moon walk on Motown 25

That’s why, darling, it’s incredible
That someone so unforgettable
Thinks that I am unforgettable too

Fake People

Theres this time when all shit broke loose

Its like hangin’ on some kinda noose

Still beatin’. Chokin’. Drowned

But a homie like me can’t really just  shut down

Then this person you thought comes in to save the day

Without them Wessons

Thought your starting to see its gonna get better now yey

Face some shit with renewed grit

Oh shit, next thing you know you on the tabloids

Like some writer from Brit on steroids

Talk o’ the  town. You see ‘em frowns.

All around you

Pass judgement on you like they magistrates

You feel like nickin’ them throats and watch them gyrate

To the tune o’death. Gimme some meth

I need a boost before I chop them heads

 

This fuckers dont really want to give no aide

Coz they all fake

Think in pain. Insane in the brain.

B-Real sayin keep it real

These motherfuckers all they need is a reel

Just to tell them friends

They did somethin’ of sense

Coz they empty lives full o’shit

A niner they got out at the crib  dont even feel proud of

Fake people all over.  Hopin’ you get shut down quick by Hov’

If you shit can’t be real

I’m gonna tell you more about the deal…

If what comes outta you greasy mouth ain’ true

I don’t want shit to do with you

My man Meth..damn sure straight Stets

It aint easy bein’ greasy

All you motherfuckers thought you had it easy

How can you stare at me in my face and smile?

And talk behind my back all the while

You may think this facade is ignorant with the shit I do

But you can’t be straight up so what does that make you?

Usually, I wouldn’t give a damn

But the charades of deceit hit me like BAM!

Hey it’s ok and I’m doin’ well

But I hope you ride slow fiery short bus straight to hell

2 hours from here

Burn bitch. Burn

 

 

From The illmatic Verses : Flip Style Tribute

Check, let there be light
No gang banging in Q.C tonight
Just murals of The Man From Manila, bigger than life
Turn up the kid mic because ya’ll ain’t listening right
What’s all this talk that Chase bought?
I’d rather outline my body in white chalk
Ain’t nobody been where I been, they at a stand still
This is all overseen by my man Will

As I walk through the shadow of death
I know that I ain’t got much time left
And they don’t really wanna see the good in me
Ain’t satisfied until they see the fool in me
I know my business, so my sins great
I thank the ‘hood for all the love they gave
Forgive ‘em all, they did they best to hate

……let there be light

This ain’t the glorified, just painting the street picture
There’s no God in Bibles, just blunt and switches
Gillettes cut pain in kitchen
Now every rapper wanna claim he hang with the boys of the MisFitz
It’s like the same difference except when homies get arraigned
They don’t want the same sentence, homies get to snitchin
If I could reverse the monsters and turn forward the razas
And bring back the fallen homies who was livest
Old hustlers, reminiscing on better days
They home, doing nothing, might as well be in a cage
Hating on young brothers, one foot in the grave
They used to love us till we found our own way through the maze
QC, set trippin and flaggin
Got the South Side laughing, now peoples asking
What happened? My girl from upper Manhattan
She remembers the quarters that’s Latin, and a lot of rat-a-tat-tatting

I am the son of the audio cassette era, tech wearer
Bullets and begets, Binzbo’s speaker terror
Till man I get mine till I’m dead, so I can drive somethin’ red
Like that horse standing on it’s hind legs
Since Arnold and Willis in they bunk beds
I wanted bread like Wonder, not manned-a-mano like the parent of Lionel
Chase is the Manila Beatmakin’ Idol
No matter what you do you’re never getting my title
I can’t sound smart ’cause ya’ll’ll run away
They say I ain’t hungry no more and I don’t talk about ‘ye
Like there’s no other way for a ex-hustler
Cake ya, the x-ray splitter to touch ya, I beg to differ
When you’re four years into the game, we can have a conversation
Eight years in the game, I invite you on vacation
Ten years in the game, after I’ve enjoyed my fame
Only then I let ya pick my brain…

Right about now
I don’t even deal with all that garbage
We getting real right, ya know?

Focus on good things man, good times…..alright

Lil Shytes’ Rhyme

Big C is back

I heard all you bitches got some flak

From not pulling through

On whatever ya’ll do just to get you some food

Shit, i know how it is for sure

I dont want my kids to down manure

I aint sayin this coz lifes a bitch

Im sayin this coz we got a bunch to fix

I saw this old man walkin down the street near the Isle of Man

He got this walkin cane that look like it took a lot of rain

Man, he only got them half set o’legs

Not even a pair of them hands

But he managed to get to the other side

Sellin seatbelts and pillows

And any damn thing you could think of

This dude doin it right

despite the plight that hinders his might

This guy is tougher than Dice

I dont know why still too many people

Blessed with all them four limbs

Couldnt even get a job

Coz they too busy with sleep

Tom Peep, Tom Foolery

Couldn’t even get past a day without a couple of 40s

All these lazy motherfuckers just totally unscrew me

I’d say..

Fight yo way back, amidst all that flak coz theres a betta day waiting for you at the top ; if this old man pulled through, you wont be through … then i’d really think theres really something wrong with you

Yesterday was readin the papers

Seein all these people who homeless

Burnt house, torn down

Ashes to faces that are all frowns

Man, turn the next page

You’d see these fuckin celebs puttin on a smug face

After all the partyin’, greasy lip smackin

Totally non-sense shit when the ghettos get all the hit

you see these clowns on the news next day

Coz they be fightin over ye’

Lil bullshit here and there about who fucked whos bitch

Whos guy fucked who

Boo-hoo..fuck you,

next day’s “whats up foo’”

Fuckin Bananas

This shit is crackin me up

instead of them people these guys should just all help up

I dont even know where this shit is goin

Im totally pissed, after all the shit that has be rollin

These crackas dont even deserve a diss

I’d rather take a piss

Theres a lot of shit to be done that would be better than this

But I want ya’ll to know that this aint a closed eye

Daily, I might not give a cow’s pie

But this shit right here…its not gonna die

So I tell ya…