Setting the record straight.
Been into this rap thing for 20 years now, listening and studying more than practicing. At 25 years old, I'm finally making moves. Yeah, it's long over due, but it is all in due time. Listening to my songs and checking out my page, people may get the idea that J Malice is a monster or sicko; couldn't be further from the truth. J Malice has a heart and is willing to bet any amount of wealth that it's bigger than anyone who chooses to come through here. Don't judge a book by it's cover. You have to open the pages and read inside if you really want to know about someone.
Lyrics
It's kinda hard yo, but I keep my head up, being fed up/
this whole thing seems like a set-up/
some creep with id's led up to accusations galore/
homeboy's ain't hesitating putting my name's sake in the floor/
once dawgs, IMDb's illest/
now here's the backstabbing, lack-of-facts-having massacre silliness/
accused of actions not taken by me/
for the satisfaction of some wack ass bastard's nightly routine/
bullsh*t amusement, magic wand *POOF*, no proof/
so all I can do is come like Beanie with The Truth and say is I didn't do it/
ya'll treating me like the outcast, new kid/
like I haven't paid dues, leaving bruises, grooves and stab wounds with my music/
nerve to assume me a troll and racist/
when not too long ago, we banned against all foes and haters/
I'm just like Ghostface rippin on the "4th Chamber"/
but it's my "heart" that's weakened I've fallen off the deep end/
ya'll be thinking, this fellow emcee is filled with lots of secrets/
but I'm up-front about my drinking and how I have sharp knives that seek wrists/
can't help it, my idea of an eventful evening/
is a bottle of Paul, Brandy or Gin, cheap or Seagram's /
even if there isn't anyone around to drink with/
I get creamed myself and start thinking it's no use in trying to defeat the demons/
nice-on-the-outside seeming, but on the inside, screaming/
can't be sleeping when ya doing 360's on the ceiling/
third one here to spit rhymes, so cold they commit crimes/
ya'll was feeling me, even told me you read em ten times/
instantly coming up with some of the most hard-to-invent lines/
and we sparked a revolution, a brand new rebel, deadly nussance/
went and got admitted to the ward shortly after, took a break/
Malice was on the verge of death, for goodness sake/
we all went from good to great/
but why does the community gotta go from understood to hate???/
you've heard my song "Self-Mutilation Theory"/
I'm not really sure if anyone has what it takes to cure me/
not too concerned with how long it takes for one to learn me/
if I'm correct, I'll spend my worthless journey from Earth, eternally buring/
so I've got that stressful sh*t constantly dragging my life/
why a part of me is at the drawer and grabbing the knife/
but the only thing that procrastinates me is this magnum or rifle/
writing these mad lyrics so fantastic that you damn near have to like em/
my old sh*t was the appetizer, side dish on the menu/
every now and then a snappy one to make my rappin continue/
now I'm on the inventing tip and looking to issue/
tons of new sh*t with a cyanide twist that's biting and ripping to get in you/
I look around and nothing's like it used to be/
homeboys, but now it seems there ain't enough room for you and me/
right about now, cold, sharp metal influencing/
but I haven't given permission to read my eulogy
