Sick track screaming out the return of everyone's favorite emcee. The beat samples the same song as Stillmatic; just flipped differently. That's me on the hook too. Produced by Mesta.
One of the illest emcees coming up fast. Listen and download tracks right now to brag to your friends how you knew Paranom before he blew up.
"When we hug the mics we get busy... Come and have a good time with G.O.D."
Lyrics
(Verse 1)
The following verses of what I write in this book is what I believe
There's no achievin for overachievers //
Including their seeds, and those who aspire
To conquer the masses head on and become admired //
Remember when you were squire, singin in the church choir?
Oh it was so fun, sounds of drums and tambourines //
Thinkin that none of it would leave
Blue sky suddenly turn to gray with utmost speed //
Which metaphorically means, I'm the best in the Earth
Predetermined at birth, you can never slow down the ones //
That are fueled by the hurt, or beat by the worst
Cuz once they return, their very breath becomes a murderous curse //
And definitely dangerous, with mathematics
And acrobatics in its arrangements, never erraneous //
Never playin a trick, as far as I can see
Cuz I can make all you niggaz pay absolutely free //
(Chorus)
They don't know how to act now, cuz I'm back around
Ready to get it baby //
Don't you know your hatin cannot change me
But hear me //
Let me be the one for you
Please give me the chance to prove //
(Verse 2)
I think I can cut the tension with a knife
Between those who disagree with this creed //
Them and myself, it's a vigorous engagement to the top of the shelf
And the opponents are willin to get some help //
I didn't state it before, but again
I will never surrender to the hardship //
I will get into an executive's office, as a novice
And hope he looks past, all the bones, blood, and the carbon //
And view the flow of flowers of the tombs of the players of the blues
Encased in a myriad amount of wombs //
And doom glooms, just as uppers and shrooms
Hangin corpses from looms of the air, spare me the despair //
I feel like I surrendered my time to be here, with a floppy disk
And extract your cardio bliss and piss //
In Hip-Hop 101, you wish to be dismissed
Because your grades reflect you get busy by laziness //
(Chorus)
