Thursday, April 2, 2009
Friday, February 6, 2009
INFINITE SKILLZ - N.O.I.S.E. (Produced By DJ JD)
Download Infinite Skillz - N.O.I.S.E. for free!!
This is the theme song to the official Infinite Skillz fan club. DJ JD aka Spindiana Jones of the Tampa Bay Dream Team is on the production.
Download it. Add it to your pages. TELL ALL YOUR FRIENDS. SPREAD THE ILLNESS!!!
Monday, December 8, 2008
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Infinite Skillz - You Can Have Whatever You Buy
I thought I'd put my own spin on things. Let me know what you think!
www.baseincmusic.com
www.baseincmusic.com
Thursday, September 18, 2008
WYMO
Produced By: DJ Wrecklesss
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 19
Verse 1
I’m respected in the streets, but better known as a scholar,
Graduated from the House. My lyrics are top dollar.
It’s been said that I rap like folks is chasing
But I rhyme to represent the hopes of a nation
Called Hip Hop. For too long it’s been neglected
By emcees whose lyrics seem disconnected.
The hood loves me cuz I recognize their plight.
The burbs know I’m the man built to rise and fight
For their place in the pantheon. Yo got damn he’s on.
I’m no legend but this John is gonna get his Grammy on.
My place in history is to erase the misery
Of fans who’ve been sans professional delivery.
I’m simply a little bit different than most.
So I rip for the folks who never really got close
To being a star like T.O. and so I promised them yo
Every time that I flow, all systems are go.
Verse 2
I’m just trying to represent those in the talented tenth.
All my, people trying to cultivate their inner strength
U can thug it, U can G it, but your mind, can U free it.
U got goals; they got holes. Rise above them; U can be it.
Don’t need shackles and ships if they want to enslave us.
We’re addicted to the product of the Bureau of Engraving
We got bad credit and can’t deal with the pressure.
But put metal in our mouth so we feel precious.
We want to be Big Wills so we just buy big wheels.
We’re spending them big bills, but live with our kin still.
No plans to move out like Bush in Baghdad.
I digress. We’ve already had that
Conversation and speaking of which.
Conversate is not a word, yeah you heard me trick.
Converse is what you mean. I’m off topic again.
Oh well. It’s time for the chorus to drop again.
Verse 3
That’s how they get yall when shit falls in pitfalls.
They make your shit stall and then the crypt calls.
I avoided the snares like a track that’s all synths.
I’m no one trick pony. I’m good at all lengths.
I represent all tenths cuz I use my art
To make America have a little change of heart.
My hope is to help yall change your conscious.
Most times you’re bombarded by repetitive nonsense.
Want to show the hood they don’t have to hold a mic
Sell rocks or play ball to control their flight.
Just in-crease your knowledge cuz, we got our own colleges.
Your blue chip talent could return the balance to
The breeding grounds where we have found a foundation.
Whether they like it or not, it’s gonna be a brown nation.
I’m trying to do my part by having relations
With black, white, yellow, Puerto Rican and Haitians.
Hook
Not trying to make you party. I just work your mental out.
Infinite’s the Anomaly. I go a different route.
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 19
Verse 1
I’m respected in the streets, but better known as a scholar,
Graduated from the House. My lyrics are top dollar.
It’s been said that I rap like folks is chasing
But I rhyme to represent the hopes of a nation
Called Hip Hop. For too long it’s been neglected
By emcees whose lyrics seem disconnected.
The hood loves me cuz I recognize their plight.
The burbs know I’m the man built to rise and fight
For their place in the pantheon. Yo got damn he’s on.
I’m no legend but this John is gonna get his Grammy on.
My place in history is to erase the misery
Of fans who’ve been sans professional delivery.
I’m simply a little bit different than most.
So I rip for the folks who never really got close
To being a star like T.O. and so I promised them yo
Every time that I flow, all systems are go.
Verse 2
I’m just trying to represent those in the talented tenth.
All my, people trying to cultivate their inner strength
U can thug it, U can G it, but your mind, can U free it.
U got goals; they got holes. Rise above them; U can be it.
Don’t need shackles and ships if they want to enslave us.
We’re addicted to the product of the Bureau of Engraving
We got bad credit and can’t deal with the pressure.
But put metal in our mouth so we feel precious.
We want to be Big Wills so we just buy big wheels.
We’re spending them big bills, but live with our kin still.
No plans to move out like Bush in Baghdad.
I digress. We’ve already had that
Conversation and speaking of which.
Conversate is not a word, yeah you heard me trick.
Converse is what you mean. I’m off topic again.
Oh well. It’s time for the chorus to drop again.
Verse 3
That’s how they get yall when shit falls in pitfalls.
They make your shit stall and then the crypt calls.
I avoided the snares like a track that’s all synths.
I’m no one trick pony. I’m good at all lengths.
I represent all tenths cuz I use my art
To make America have a little change of heart.
My hope is to help yall change your conscious.
Most times you’re bombarded by repetitive nonsense.
Want to show the hood they don’t have to hold a mic
Sell rocks or play ball to control their flight.
Just in-crease your knowledge cuz, we got our own colleges.
Your blue chip talent could return the balance to
The breeding grounds where we have found a foundation.
Whether they like it or not, it’s gonna be a brown nation.
I’m trying to do my part by having relations
With black, white, yellow, Puerto Rican and Haitians.
Hook
Not trying to make you party. I just work your mental out.
Infinite’s the Anomaly. I go a different route.
None Of That
Produced By: Mr. J
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 18
Verse 1
I rhyme to show my mind is more than able
To handle stress and fame and remain stable
Like horse habitats as I spit battle raps
And still scatter facts like diced up almanacs
I stay on the grind like Starbucks junkies.
Yall love my style like bars love drunkies.
I get stupid on the mic like Dubya Bush.
I got that wheelbarrow flow; no trouble to push.
Rap similar to video chicks. I show my ass.
Yall sound gay. You are so Lance Bass.
So you got blue stones and your chain is two-toned.
But let’s see you drop a gem inside the booth Holmes.
When I choose to spit, the force from my lips,
Is like the crack of a whip, from a dude who's so ripped,
That the veins pop out from his skin to show them
The top of the pinnacle is where his flow's been.
HOOK1
Sell my soul for a ring? I aint doing none of that
Claim that I’m a king. I aint doing none of that.
Buy a lot of bling? I aint doing none of that.
I aint doing none of that. I aint doing none of that.
Verse 2
My rap book’s insulated so I keep the heat
To make the fans walk in like where you keep the meat.
Flow so official. Album should come with a whistle.
Break you down to the gristle with metaphorical missiles.
I’m strong to my finishes. (Think I’m not.)
Because all my sentences (be that hot).
They stretch to where Greenwich is. (It don’t stop.)
You’re in love with my penmanship. (And why not?)
When I stepped on the block, yo they ran from alleys.
Had them yelling like Lil Jon on Grand Finale.
Got fans from Japan to San Fernando Valley.
For putting VA on the map like Rand McNally.
The way I, damage your fabric, I’m similar to a moth.
My, lyrical magic’s attributed to the cross.
I been blessed with the ability to spit with fidelity
I rep for the real emcees who aint hyping up felonies.
HOOK2
Front like I aint broke. I aint doing none of that.
Make songs about smoke. I aint doing none of that.
Claim that I sell coke. I aint doing none of that.
I aint doing none of that. I aint doing none of that.
VERSE 3
You bammas sell lies like Muslims sell pies
Say you do it for the paper, but I’d rather sell fries.
Your persona’s a disguise
I won’t be surprised
When the streets find out and decide to sever ties.
Your life is a mirage full of self-sabotage.
Lose your soul to get hold of a Rolls for you garage.
Or some other shiny ride that will lead to your demise.
Flossing will lure REAL thugs to where you reside.
If you meet them guys
I hope you run and hide, instead
Of trying to be a G just ignore your foolish pride.
Only way to survive is to shed this whole facade.
Or you might find yourself right beside God
It’s the truth. It’s been tried
Still never been denied
No chain can improve on intelligent design.
HOOK 3
Talk jewels like a hoe. I aint doing none of that.
Play myself for dough. I aint doing none of that.
Steal somebody’s flow. I aint doing none of that.
I aint doing none of that. I aint doing none of that.
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 18
Verse 1
I rhyme to show my mind is more than able
To handle stress and fame and remain stable
Like horse habitats as I spit battle raps
And still scatter facts like diced up almanacs
I stay on the grind like Starbucks junkies.
Yall love my style like bars love drunkies.
I get stupid on the mic like Dubya Bush.
I got that wheelbarrow flow; no trouble to push.
Rap similar to video chicks. I show my ass.
Yall sound gay. You are so Lance Bass.
So you got blue stones and your chain is two-toned.
But let’s see you drop a gem inside the booth Holmes.
When I choose to spit, the force from my lips,
Is like the crack of a whip, from a dude who's so ripped,
That the veins pop out from his skin to show them
The top of the pinnacle is where his flow's been.
HOOK1
Sell my soul for a ring? I aint doing none of that
Claim that I’m a king. I aint doing none of that.
Buy a lot of bling? I aint doing none of that.
I aint doing none of that. I aint doing none of that.
Verse 2
My rap book’s insulated so I keep the heat
To make the fans walk in like where you keep the meat.
Flow so official. Album should come with a whistle.
Break you down to the gristle with metaphorical missiles.
I’m strong to my finishes. (Think I’m not.)
Because all my sentences (be that hot).
They stretch to where Greenwich is. (It don’t stop.)
You’re in love with my penmanship. (And why not?)
When I stepped on the block, yo they ran from alleys.
Had them yelling like Lil Jon on Grand Finale.
Got fans from Japan to San Fernando Valley.
For putting VA on the map like Rand McNally.
The way I, damage your fabric, I’m similar to a moth.
My, lyrical magic’s attributed to the cross.
I been blessed with the ability to spit with fidelity
I rep for the real emcees who aint hyping up felonies.
HOOK2
Front like I aint broke. I aint doing none of that.
Make songs about smoke. I aint doing none of that.
Claim that I sell coke. I aint doing none of that.
I aint doing none of that. I aint doing none of that.
VERSE 3
You bammas sell lies like Muslims sell pies
Say you do it for the paper, but I’d rather sell fries.
Your persona’s a disguise
I won’t be surprised
When the streets find out and decide to sever ties.
Your life is a mirage full of self-sabotage.
Lose your soul to get hold of a Rolls for you garage.
Or some other shiny ride that will lead to your demise.
Flossing will lure REAL thugs to where you reside.
If you meet them guys
I hope you run and hide, instead
Of trying to be a G just ignore your foolish pride.
Only way to survive is to shed this whole facade.
Or you might find yourself right beside God
It’s the truth. It’s been tried
Still never been denied
No chain can improve on intelligent design.
HOOK 3
Talk jewels like a hoe. I aint doing none of that.
Play myself for dough. I aint doing none of that.
Steal somebody’s flow. I aint doing none of that.
I aint doing none of that. I aint doing none of that.
All I Need
Produced By: DJ Wreckless
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 17
All I need is me, myself and my flow (my flow)
No crack. No pills. Cuz Infinite got skillz.
All I need is me, myself and my flow (my flow)
Don’t need a little throne. Aint trying to be Capone.
All I need is me, myself and my flow (my flow)
No whips. No chains. No bricks. No fame.
All I need is me, myself and my flow (my flow)
And a little mic time. Pad and pen to write rhymes.
Verse
If you want some bling rap, go see Wayne and them.
But if you need something heavy I’m the one weighing them.
Been on the bench for a minute, getting garbage time.
Forced to listen to these bammas spitting garbage rhymes.
I’ve been touching mics since Mike’s been touching kids.
Been a Bad Boy WAY before Puff and BIG.
But I flow for B.A.S.E. Inc, yours go in the basin.
Sure as rubbing is racing, I’m running the nation.
Still sleeping on my skillz? You have no idea.
Infinite brings more wood than four Ikeas.
Aint no flow round here, that I can’t dry up.
I gave yall a sample but don’t try us.
We have a no return policy. All sales are final.
Bootleg my vinyl; I’ll impale your spinal.
You’re just a shrimp on the barbe; ya hardly problems.
One verse in this song and I already solved ya.
Verse
This aint no candy rap but you’re in love with the taste.
I never sold a rock but I’m known for BASE
I’m still rolling with the clique, but I can stack tracks solo.
Got dudes checking for me like a fat back homo.
And no I’m not switching, but when I go in the kitchen.
I’m on a lyrical mission to destroy the competition.
As soon I get on the major scene.
I’ll make these others rappers feel like the Rev Al Green.
“So tired of being alone.” But they should’ve improved.
Went from having their own drink, to, hearing the boos.
They make their own liquor, I could bottle the sweat
That I produce in the booth and yall would never forget
That buzz you feel aint no hang over.
Feels like your wig’s split like Dame and Hova
Born in North Carolina but I claim Nova
I’m more off the beaten path than your Range Rover.
Verse
Let’s get into it. Infinite’s spitting fluid
And ripping you little Druids with flames that been the bluest.
I’m that rootinest, tootinest, microphone shootinest
Talk crap like I rap from my gluteus
MAXimus. Don’t be asking us.
If it aint from Wreckless, your track’s a bust.
Just cuz you don’t SEE ME on TV eating SUSHIMI.
Don’t mean I aint gleaming the cube while yall dreaming.
I stay grinding. I can get some sleep when I die.
But right now I want a piece of the pie.
So I, push the limits to finish on top like Emmitt.
No gimmicks. I never mimic. When I begin it I end it.
I’m more popular than sugar and sex times weed.
I make your mind bleed when I emcee.
Don’t need any titles; don’t need a throne.
Just me, myself, and my microphone.
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 17
All I need is me, myself and my flow (my flow)
No crack. No pills. Cuz Infinite got skillz.
All I need is me, myself and my flow (my flow)
Don’t need a little throne. Aint trying to be Capone.
All I need is me, myself and my flow (my flow)
No whips. No chains. No bricks. No fame.
All I need is me, myself and my flow (my flow)
And a little mic time. Pad and pen to write rhymes.
Verse
If you want some bling rap, go see Wayne and them.
But if you need something heavy I’m the one weighing them.
Been on the bench for a minute, getting garbage time.
Forced to listen to these bammas spitting garbage rhymes.
I’ve been touching mics since Mike’s been touching kids.
Been a Bad Boy WAY before Puff and BIG.
But I flow for B.A.S.E. Inc, yours go in the basin.
Sure as rubbing is racing, I’m running the nation.
Still sleeping on my skillz? You have no idea.
Infinite brings more wood than four Ikeas.
Aint no flow round here, that I can’t dry up.
I gave yall a sample but don’t try us.
We have a no return policy. All sales are final.
Bootleg my vinyl; I’ll impale your spinal.
You’re just a shrimp on the barbe; ya hardly problems.
One verse in this song and I already solved ya.
Verse
This aint no candy rap but you’re in love with the taste.
I never sold a rock but I’m known for BASE
I’m still rolling with the clique, but I can stack tracks solo.
Got dudes checking for me like a fat back homo.
And no I’m not switching, but when I go in the kitchen.
I’m on a lyrical mission to destroy the competition.
As soon I get on the major scene.
I’ll make these others rappers feel like the Rev Al Green.
“So tired of being alone.” But they should’ve improved.
Went from having their own drink, to, hearing the boos.
They make their own liquor, I could bottle the sweat
That I produce in the booth and yall would never forget
That buzz you feel aint no hang over.
Feels like your wig’s split like Dame and Hova
Born in North Carolina but I claim Nova
I’m more off the beaten path than your Range Rover.
Verse
Let’s get into it. Infinite’s spitting fluid
And ripping you little Druids with flames that been the bluest.
I’m that rootinest, tootinest, microphone shootinest
Talk crap like I rap from my gluteus
MAXimus. Don’t be asking us.
If it aint from Wreckless, your track’s a bust.
Just cuz you don’t SEE ME on TV eating SUSHIMI.
Don’t mean I aint gleaming the cube while yall dreaming.
I stay grinding. I can get some sleep when I die.
But right now I want a piece of the pie.
So I, push the limits to finish on top like Emmitt.
No gimmicks. I never mimic. When I begin it I end it.
I’m more popular than sugar and sex times weed.
I make your mind bleed when I emcee.
Don’t need any titles; don’t need a throne.
Just me, myself, and my microphone.
One Of Them Girls feat Rich James
Produced By: Baba G
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 16
VERSE 1
Hit the liquor store to pick up adult concoctions
That make girls want to give oral adoptions.
At the light on the way back, what did I see?
A lil brunette checking for me.
Another opportunity for me and Rich James
To get dames, so I switched lanes.
Pulled the Ford truck right up beside ‘em
The driver said “Baby I like how you’re riding.”
I like that you’re smiling so wuddup shawty.
We live up the block and tonight’s my party.
I bet you like birthday cake. Wanna help me celebrate?
She said “I can’t. I gotta go to work but hey
Why don’t you and your friend
Get with me and my friend
Maybe all of us can…” Stop right there
What exactly is it you do? She said
“My bad. I thought you knew we
Work at the club. We dance for dough. You should
Come see us if you get a chance to go.
We could do a private dance for yall.
I smiled, but in my head I was saying hell nah.
Couldn’t be mean and call her a hoe.
So instead I just said, OHHHHHH.
VERSE 2 (Rich James)
I'm sitting in the bar checking out this chick
Her waist is small and her ass is thick
So I walk up to her and I say Hi miss
She automatically gives me a kiss
Then she whispers in my ear, do you want this
I say hell yes and we exit
Back to my crib, now she all on my dick
She got booty naked and I said, Awww shit
I'm about to tap that
All up in that tight cat
Feeling on her ass crack
Then I pull it out, splat
Now she telling me she wanna have my baby
I say, bitch, you gotta be crazy
I barely even know you
Plus you is a hoe too
Get up outta my crib
Before I break your ribs
All hoes getting from me is a nut
Bust in their face never in their guts
VERSE 3
Next night it was time for wildin.
Captain Pat and Bookem said let’s hit up J Island.
We hit the bar, Rich James by my sizzide.
All getting frizzide, when I looked rizzight.
Three fo dimes, checked ‘em three fo times.
Gotta big Secret. I aint leaving till they know mines.
Didn’t make a move cuz they stepped to us.
But what came out their mouth caused much disgust.
No hi. No smile. No wink. Just
“Hey fellas want to buy us a drink.”
I was stunned. Straight dumbfounded.
Looked at Dan and said “I’m clowning.”
Don’t even know my name,
But you’re trying to get my change
And got the nerve to ask me why I’m looking at you strange.
Pat was gonna take yall sailing on the Hozro.
But you played yourself for five dollar Cosmo.
HOOK
Oh you one them girls. Oh you one them girls.
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 16
VERSE 1
Hit the liquor store to pick up adult concoctions
That make girls want to give oral adoptions.
At the light on the way back, what did I see?
A lil brunette checking for me.
Another opportunity for me and Rich James
To get dames, so I switched lanes.
Pulled the Ford truck right up beside ‘em
The driver said “Baby I like how you’re riding.”
I like that you’re smiling so wuddup shawty.
We live up the block and tonight’s my party.
I bet you like birthday cake. Wanna help me celebrate?
She said “I can’t. I gotta go to work but hey
Why don’t you and your friend
Get with me and my friend
Maybe all of us can…” Stop right there
What exactly is it you do? She said
“My bad. I thought you knew we
Work at the club. We dance for dough. You should
Come see us if you get a chance to go.
We could do a private dance for yall.
I smiled, but in my head I was saying hell nah.
Couldn’t be mean and call her a hoe.
So instead I just said, OHHHHHH.
VERSE 2 (Rich James)
I'm sitting in the bar checking out this chick
Her waist is small and her ass is thick
So I walk up to her and I say Hi miss
She automatically gives me a kiss
Then she whispers in my ear, do you want this
I say hell yes and we exit
Back to my crib, now she all on my dick
She got booty naked and I said, Awww shit
I'm about to tap that
All up in that tight cat
Feeling on her ass crack
Then I pull it out, splat
Now she telling me she wanna have my baby
I say, bitch, you gotta be crazy
I barely even know you
Plus you is a hoe too
Get up outta my crib
Before I break your ribs
All hoes getting from me is a nut
Bust in their face never in their guts
VERSE 3
Next night it was time for wildin.
Captain Pat and Bookem said let’s hit up J Island.
We hit the bar, Rich James by my sizzide.
All getting frizzide, when I looked rizzight.
Three fo dimes, checked ‘em three fo times.
Gotta big Secret. I aint leaving till they know mines.
Didn’t make a move cuz they stepped to us.
But what came out their mouth caused much disgust.
No hi. No smile. No wink. Just
“Hey fellas want to buy us a drink.”
I was stunned. Straight dumbfounded.
Looked at Dan and said “I’m clowning.”
Don’t even know my name,
But you’re trying to get my change
And got the nerve to ask me why I’m looking at you strange.
Pat was gonna take yall sailing on the Hozro.
But you played yourself for five dollar Cosmo.
HOOK
Oh you one them girls. Oh you one them girls.
On My Grind
Produced By: DJ Wreckless
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 15
Verse1
I’m slinging newsprint to keep gas in my Ford.
Can’t relate to a song filled with things I can’t afford?
The music I produce can change your mood
But when you get on a track, I change the tune.
If you get air play you owe the DJ a favor.
But they be calling me when they need some new flavor
I get beats imported from North of Yonkers
And spit lyrics that are beyond bonkers.
Considered a rookie but that’s just a label. I
Diversified my bars so my stacks gonna be stable.
They trying to jook me but no one’s gonna be able.
I feel like a buffet I got so much on my table.
In the daytime, I write news for TV.
When night falls some of yall can see me
On the sidelines getting my reporter on.
Or in the studio getting my recording on.
Verse 2
I got the dedication of a Muslim on Jihad.
No I got the dedication of my brother Jerrod.
The youngest of the 3 but came first in education.
Now he’s about to go to school to learn medication.
There’ll be no hesitation from here on out.
So all the haters in my way just clear on out
I’m like Mike Tyson before Robin Givens
Young bull in the game full of red ribbons.
Dangerous like running on thin ice with scissors.
Flow so cold I gave the North Pole shivers
Rap part time but I spit like I live this.
You’d think I wear suits the way I handle my business.
Wreck did the track so you know that it’s serious.
But it’s hard making noise when nobody’s hearing us.
I see other crews make it, and though I’m not jealous.
You can’t tell us they can match my acapellas.
Verse 3
We’re back up in this trick like repeat sex.
Yall need me and Wreck, but we need them checks.
I’m done eating potatoes, it’s gravy time.
Been a whole lot of dues, I paid me mine.
You can try to stop us if you want (if you want).
But, we aint never gonna punt (gonna punt).
That’s like me buying diamond fronts (diamond fronts) (Never happen)
I’m not the type of brother that stunts (that stunts).
Money aint bad it’s what ya do with it (do with it).
And yall be running out to buy some jewel with it (jewels with it)
It’s a waste if you just gonna act a fool with it (fool with it)
Why not try to make moves with it (moves with it)
No mouths to feed besides my own.
But I got stack bills that’s overgrown.
And someday I would like own a home. So I
Been on my grind since I got my shoulder sewn.
Hook
I’m on… my grind.
I’m on my grind.
I’m on… my grind, at the front of the battle lines.
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 15
Verse1
I’m slinging newsprint to keep gas in my Ford.
Can’t relate to a song filled with things I can’t afford?
The music I produce can change your mood
But when you get on a track, I change the tune.
If you get air play you owe the DJ a favor.
But they be calling me when they need some new flavor
I get beats imported from North of Yonkers
And spit lyrics that are beyond bonkers.
Considered a rookie but that’s just a label. I
Diversified my bars so my stacks gonna be stable.
They trying to jook me but no one’s gonna be able.
I feel like a buffet I got so much on my table.
In the daytime, I write news for TV.
When night falls some of yall can see me
On the sidelines getting my reporter on.
Or in the studio getting my recording on.
Verse 2
I got the dedication of a Muslim on Jihad.
No I got the dedication of my brother Jerrod.
The youngest of the 3 but came first in education.
Now he’s about to go to school to learn medication.
There’ll be no hesitation from here on out.
So all the haters in my way just clear on out
I’m like Mike Tyson before Robin Givens
Young bull in the game full of red ribbons.
Dangerous like running on thin ice with scissors.
Flow so cold I gave the North Pole shivers
Rap part time but I spit like I live this.
You’d think I wear suits the way I handle my business.
Wreck did the track so you know that it’s serious.
But it’s hard making noise when nobody’s hearing us.
I see other crews make it, and though I’m not jealous.
You can’t tell us they can match my acapellas.
Verse 3
We’re back up in this trick like repeat sex.
Yall need me and Wreck, but we need them checks.
I’m done eating potatoes, it’s gravy time.
Been a whole lot of dues, I paid me mine.
You can try to stop us if you want (if you want).
But, we aint never gonna punt (gonna punt).
That’s like me buying diamond fronts (diamond fronts) (Never happen)
I’m not the type of brother that stunts (that stunts).
Money aint bad it’s what ya do with it (do with it).
And yall be running out to buy some jewel with it (jewels with it)
It’s a waste if you just gonna act a fool with it (fool with it)
Why not try to make moves with it (moves with it)
No mouths to feed besides my own.
But I got stack bills that’s overgrown.
And someday I would like own a home. So I
Been on my grind since I got my shoulder sewn.
Hook
I’m on… my grind.
I’m on my grind.
I’m on… my grind, at the front of the battle lines.
On Your Life
Produced By: Mr. J
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 14
Verse 1
I see you little bammas bought some chains.
But, I kind of wonder what you thought would change.
Your links might glitter but your raps lack luster.
Watching Flip Mode’s the only time I clap for Bustas
And just like him, I stay next level.
I came to edutain, not to play with ice bezels.
Money’s an asset but yall act like asses.
Spending three, four hundred on sunglasses
Instead of using your loot to buy up stock,
Yall run to the lot to get cars with knock.
Got your money going backwards like your Sprees
Unadvertised facts you refuse to see.
Steady popping tags, but your credit is horrible
And that kind of behavior is deplorable.
Its bad enough you’re flossing, but you fake floss on top of that.
Slim got Houston. VA? I’m the boss of that.
Verse 2
This aint the first time I’ve had to tell you.
You’re barking up the wrong tree dog, I can’t smell you.
When you try to write a rhyme, that chain won’t help you.
If you think I’m impressed, you should be in Bellevue.
You want to do that? Read The Wine of Astonishment
Or put my whole cock in your mouth without vomiting.
Gaudy jewels aint a sign of accomplishment.
I’ll save that for when I’m making marital promises.
Learn something. Fertilize your dome piece
Instead of buying rims on a rent-to-own lease.
I’d be borderline suicidal if that was the only
Way that I could get a broad to bone me
Little Johnny bought a chain. Little Johnny bought a grill.
But somebody should tell Johnny that nobody thinks he’s real.
It can get you Candy paint and Pimpstar wheels.
Silly Johnny! Money can’t buy skillz.
Verse 3
I’m going against the grain like the Atkins diet.
Yall can spend your loot on jewels but this cat won’t buy it.
Never felt the need to rock ornaments.
I’d rather win Hip Hop tournaments.
I will never rock a grill. I will never cop ice.
I aint doing none of that. Put it on your life.
Yall can keep living like you don’t have needs.
I’m more like Serena before the blonde weave
Not at all broke but far from blinging it.
Versatile with this racket and down for swinging it.
Right now I’m bringing it. I’m bout to stack majors.
At my doorstep. They’re all gon catch vapors.
I’m the microphone mangler. Studio strangler.
With flows tighter than some jeans made by Wrangler.
I create for those with mobile minds
And keep my game tighter than overtime.
Always knew Infinite had Skillz.
I’ve been grinding since the 90’s. Never missed a meal.
Got too many hustles to be jocking a deal.
It’s ya boy Infinite with Mr. J on the wheels.
Hook
I will never rock a grill. I will never cop ice.
I aint doing none of that. Put it on your life.
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 14
Verse 1
I see you little bammas bought some chains.
But, I kind of wonder what you thought would change.
Your links might glitter but your raps lack luster.
Watching Flip Mode’s the only time I clap for Bustas
And just like him, I stay next level.
I came to edutain, not to play with ice bezels.
Money’s an asset but yall act like asses.
Spending three, four hundred on sunglasses
Instead of using your loot to buy up stock,
Yall run to the lot to get cars with knock.
Got your money going backwards like your Sprees
Unadvertised facts you refuse to see.
Steady popping tags, but your credit is horrible
And that kind of behavior is deplorable.
Its bad enough you’re flossing, but you fake floss on top of that.
Slim got Houston. VA? I’m the boss of that.
Verse 2
This aint the first time I’ve had to tell you.
You’re barking up the wrong tree dog, I can’t smell you.
When you try to write a rhyme, that chain won’t help you.
If you think I’m impressed, you should be in Bellevue.
You want to do that? Read The Wine of Astonishment
Or put my whole cock in your mouth without vomiting.
Gaudy jewels aint a sign of accomplishment.
I’ll save that for when I’m making marital promises.
Learn something. Fertilize your dome piece
Instead of buying rims on a rent-to-own lease.
I’d be borderline suicidal if that was the only
Way that I could get a broad to bone me
Little Johnny bought a chain. Little Johnny bought a grill.
But somebody should tell Johnny that nobody thinks he’s real.
It can get you Candy paint and Pimpstar wheels.
Silly Johnny! Money can’t buy skillz.
Verse 3
I’m going against the grain like the Atkins diet.
Yall can spend your loot on jewels but this cat won’t buy it.
Never felt the need to rock ornaments.
I’d rather win Hip Hop tournaments.
I will never rock a grill. I will never cop ice.
I aint doing none of that. Put it on your life.
Yall can keep living like you don’t have needs.
I’m more like Serena before the blonde weave
Not at all broke but far from blinging it.
Versatile with this racket and down for swinging it.
Right now I’m bringing it. I’m bout to stack majors.
At my doorstep. They’re all gon catch vapors.
I’m the microphone mangler. Studio strangler.
With flows tighter than some jeans made by Wrangler.
I create for those with mobile minds
And keep my game tighter than overtime.
Always knew Infinite had Skillz.
I’ve been grinding since the 90’s. Never missed a meal.
Got too many hustles to be jocking a deal.
It’s ya boy Infinite with Mr. J on the wheels.
Hook
I will never rock a grill. I will never cop ice.
I aint doing none of that. Put it on your life.
Stay Ready
Produced By: DJ Wreckless
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 13
VERSE1
What’s beef when you got ties to the Pentagon?
I’ll have you tied up asking why are your men all gone.
Nobody’s got guns like the Armed Forces.
You can drive by in a Caddy but we’re on warships.
B.A.S.E. Inc is the Army, better yet the Navy.
On the U.S.S. Smoke-An-Emcee-Daily.
I really don’t know why you want to come at me.
You have no weapons. How you gonna combat me?
Those guns you talk about were made by Hasbro.
I might need an AbFlow, but you bammas still have no
Chance in ten hells to kill Infinite Skillz
Cuz as sure as skin sells, I can break wills.
I slaughter more cats than Bangkok butchers
And stay punking bammas like Ashton Kutcher
Wristband’s on my left hand cuz mics get heated
So if you aint prepared get ready to get defeated.
Verse 2
You thought that you could see me when you heard that I rap.
But you got bad information like Bush and Iraq.
Now you’re looking twice as dumb him mixed with Quayle.
My flow’s fit for Braille. Vocab tips the scale.
If yall aint a bunch of bammas, then I can’t tell.
If your shit aint stinking, then I can’t smell.
If rappers gotta sling yay, then I can’t sell.
But if they want real flows, then I can’t fail.
That boy Infinite be rapping his ass off.
He aint from Houston but he’s bout to be blast off.
You bout to be cast off, this island of Hip Hop
I’m trying to get it and go like gas at a Pitstop.
If you don’t want me pissed off,
That chatter gone get stopped.
Keep clutching at my cloak and I’ll be ripping your wrist off.
Keep thinking my clique’s soft.
Keep fronting like Big Boss.
Aint no clips in your pockets. That’s lotion and lip gloss.
Verse 3
I treat rap like a sack and remove the bad seeds.
I don’t move at fast speeds, but you won’t pass me.
I do this in my leisure but still give beats seizures.
Yall repeat my words like you work at Little Caesar’s.
You may have thought Virginia only had instrumentals
But Infinite’s a beast when it comes to pad and pencil.
I’m a living legend, with papyrus dude.
Your flow needs more seasoning like Irish food.
Yall need more light. Open your iris fools.
Aint trying to be rude but how high was you?
Yall aint really problems. You’re Y2K
A lot of hype but the type I make go away.
If you aint rolling 20 deep, you’re quiet as Bo Peep
Without your backup all that yelling goes sleep.
You’re Pinocchio Pac’s. You boys aint real.
You didn’t turn thug till you bammas got deals.
Hook
If you stay ready you don’t have to get ready.
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 13
VERSE1
What’s beef when you got ties to the Pentagon?
I’ll have you tied up asking why are your men all gone.
Nobody’s got guns like the Armed Forces.
You can drive by in a Caddy but we’re on warships.
B.A.S.E. Inc is the Army, better yet the Navy.
On the U.S.S. Smoke-An-Emcee-Daily.
I really don’t know why you want to come at me.
You have no weapons. How you gonna combat me?
Those guns you talk about were made by Hasbro.
I might need an AbFlow, but you bammas still have no
Chance in ten hells to kill Infinite Skillz
Cuz as sure as skin sells, I can break wills.
I slaughter more cats than Bangkok butchers
And stay punking bammas like Ashton Kutcher
Wristband’s on my left hand cuz mics get heated
So if you aint prepared get ready to get defeated.
Verse 2
You thought that you could see me when you heard that I rap.
But you got bad information like Bush and Iraq.
Now you’re looking twice as dumb him mixed with Quayle.
My flow’s fit for Braille. Vocab tips the scale.
If yall aint a bunch of bammas, then I can’t tell.
If your shit aint stinking, then I can’t smell.
If rappers gotta sling yay, then I can’t sell.
But if they want real flows, then I can’t fail.
That boy Infinite be rapping his ass off.
He aint from Houston but he’s bout to be blast off.
You bout to be cast off, this island of Hip Hop
I’m trying to get it and go like gas at a Pitstop.
If you don’t want me pissed off,
That chatter gone get stopped.
Keep clutching at my cloak and I’ll be ripping your wrist off.
Keep thinking my clique’s soft.
Keep fronting like Big Boss.
Aint no clips in your pockets. That’s lotion and lip gloss.
Verse 3
I treat rap like a sack and remove the bad seeds.
I don’t move at fast speeds, but you won’t pass me.
I do this in my leisure but still give beats seizures.
Yall repeat my words like you work at Little Caesar’s.
You may have thought Virginia only had instrumentals
But Infinite’s a beast when it comes to pad and pencil.
I’m a living legend, with papyrus dude.
Your flow needs more seasoning like Irish food.
Yall need more light. Open your iris fools.
Aint trying to be rude but how high was you?
Yall aint really problems. You’re Y2K
A lot of hype but the type I make go away.
If you aint rolling 20 deep, you’re quiet as Bo Peep
Without your backup all that yelling goes sleep.
You’re Pinocchio Pac’s. You boys aint real.
You didn’t turn thug till you bammas got deals.
Hook
If you stay ready you don’t have to get ready.
Conditional Love
Produced By: Ansane
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 12
Verse 1
Am I still a black man if I date a white girl?
Am I still your brother if I sport a jherri curl?
Do I get props if I have no hops?
Do I get the silent treatment if I say I like cops?
If I listen to Sublime, instead of Busta Rhymes
Pass up the Flip Mode and rock Lisa Loeb
Do we remain kinfolk or am I the butt of your jokes?
If my game is on the greens, not selling it in Queens?
Would I be seen, like refried beans?
As a catalyst, for fecal matter
Left out of the action like a stranded batter.
Would you still serve me up on very hot platter?
Would the wall between us get a little bit fatter?
Would I have to endure your backbiting chatter?
And the way you overanalyze all my verbal data?
Would the fabric of our existence begin to tatter?
Verse 2
If I don’t think Christianity is white man’s insanity
And curb my self-love with a fear of vanity
Would you greet me with love or a slew of profanity?
If I don’t go to church every single Sunday
Would you send me on a trip and make it only one way.
If my academic goals don’t include 4.0s
Would you throw the book at me and tell me where I can go.
If I wear a short skirt would you call me a hoe?
Would you label me a slut if I just can’t say no?
If I hate soul food, and still say dude,
If tea’s the only liquid that I ever drink brewed,
Would you give me dirty looks like I said something crude?
If I don’t get excited about your girly things,
Would tell me where to put the engagement ring?
Would you make fun of me if I had pimples on my face?
Would you break up with me because I named my crew B.A.S.E.?
Verse 3
If I busted wack rhymes, would I still get airtime?
If my live show was wack, would you want your money back?
If I couldn’t write a verse, would my career be in a hearse?
If I sold out and went pop, would your patronage stop?
Can I be a dope MC if I’m not from NY?
Can have stage presence if my dress isn’t fly?
Can I promote equality and only hang out with blacks?
Can we start a new country if we don’t like your tax?
If only God can judge me, why I am I on trial?
I get top marks for lyrics but not as high on style.
If my flow is on point and I’m riding these beats,
Why yall still asking me, why aint you repping the streets?
What’s with Hip Hop’s infatuation with the hood?
If that’s our focus our maturation aint good.
If the hood’s so good, why is everybody leaving?
And if I love me some me does that make me conceited?
Chorus
I’m a I’m a victim of I’m a I’m a victim of conditional love.
Repeat
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 12
Verse 1
Am I still a black man if I date a white girl?
Am I still your brother if I sport a jherri curl?
Do I get props if I have no hops?
Do I get the silent treatment if I say I like cops?
If I listen to Sublime, instead of Busta Rhymes
Pass up the Flip Mode and rock Lisa Loeb
Do we remain kinfolk or am I the butt of your jokes?
If my game is on the greens, not selling it in Queens?
Would I be seen, like refried beans?
As a catalyst, for fecal matter
Left out of the action like a stranded batter.
Would you still serve me up on very hot platter?
Would the wall between us get a little bit fatter?
Would I have to endure your backbiting chatter?
And the way you overanalyze all my verbal data?
Would the fabric of our existence begin to tatter?
Verse 2
If I don’t think Christianity is white man’s insanity
And curb my self-love with a fear of vanity
Would you greet me with love or a slew of profanity?
If I don’t go to church every single Sunday
Would you send me on a trip and make it only one way.
If my academic goals don’t include 4.0s
Would you throw the book at me and tell me where I can go.
If I wear a short skirt would you call me a hoe?
Would you label me a slut if I just can’t say no?
If I hate soul food, and still say dude,
If tea’s the only liquid that I ever drink brewed,
Would you give me dirty looks like I said something crude?
If I don’t get excited about your girly things,
Would tell me where to put the engagement ring?
Would you make fun of me if I had pimples on my face?
Would you break up with me because I named my crew B.A.S.E.?
Verse 3
If I busted wack rhymes, would I still get airtime?
If my live show was wack, would you want your money back?
If I couldn’t write a verse, would my career be in a hearse?
If I sold out and went pop, would your patronage stop?
Can I be a dope MC if I’m not from NY?
Can have stage presence if my dress isn’t fly?
Can I promote equality and only hang out with blacks?
Can we start a new country if we don’t like your tax?
If only God can judge me, why I am I on trial?
I get top marks for lyrics but not as high on style.
If my flow is on point and I’m riding these beats,
Why yall still asking me, why aint you repping the streets?
What’s with Hip Hop’s infatuation with the hood?
If that’s our focus our maturation aint good.
If the hood’s so good, why is everybody leaving?
And if I love me some me does that make me conceited?
Chorus
I’m a I’m a victim of I’m a I’m a victim of conditional love.
Repeat
Murk
Produced By: Mr. J
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 11
VERSE 1
I’m not a kingpin. I don’t have gold in my grill.
But what I do have is about three times your skill.
And three times your will. So my unsigned status.
Won’t keep me from holding a mic apparatus.
I aint running up on labels begging to get signed.
I’m chasing bylines to buy studio time.
Every game I cover gets me closer to
Exactly what I been saying I’m s’posed to do.
Bring a message to the party and some fun to the thinkers.
Beat the system. Make fans run from the bleachers.
I come from a teacher and I’m a soldier’s son.
I’m a dangerous weapon even when I aint holding one.
I gotta chin of granite and sponge-like mind.
Could have been a politician with a tongue like mine.
I aint Barak Obama. I’m Hip Hop’s Osama.
Blowing up like TNT cuz I know Drama.
CLUTCH BRIDGE
I don’t suggest you rush up,
Your rhymes need a touch up.
It would behoove you to hush up
Or I’m a have to do the dang thing and let the clutch up.
Verse 2
You cats are speed bumps and I got 4X4.
You need more men like them dudes going door by door.
My clique is on the rise like DHL.
We’re locking you goons out like the NHL.
Don’t count on us losing. That’s a bad bet man.
We’re on center court and it’s game, set, match (man).
I read my foes quickly like bar codes on lasers.
I always stay sharp like hard cheddar and razors.
My voice is unstrainable. My style is untrainable.
My goals are attainable because I’m insane with flow.
My status as baddest on the mic apparatus
Aint really hard to fathom, it’s just simple mathematics.
Add one strong voice to a crystal clear purpose.
Plus a mind capable of going way beneath the surface.
Multiply that by the tracks I’m creating and
If you still can’t see I’m a beast, YOU’RE HATING!
VERSE 3
Used to think my versatility held back my progress
Like I was doing too much but that was nonsense.
All these hustles and all these grinds
I scald these beats with all these lines.
Cold ones. Hot ones. Intricate plot ones.
I even got a few blow up the mutha fuckin spot ones.
I curse with clarity, flirt with vulgarity.
Fall in love with a beat and by the hook it wants to marry me.
Scarily I keep on improving
Flow like Amoeba D, cuz I keep on moving.
Towards milestones. I’m the illest on any bill I’m on.
This album is the hottest since Mike made that Thriller song.
Feel me Holmes? Then cop this drop.
I stay on that raw like Straw and Doc.
While you kiddies are out wildin past your curfew
I’m cooking up a track to attack and murk you.
HOOK
There’s no doubt that I can serve you.
There’s no defense when my flow circles.
Everyone knows stones can hurt you
But there are times when words can murk you.
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 11
VERSE 1
I’m not a kingpin. I don’t have gold in my grill.
But what I do have is about three times your skill.
And three times your will. So my unsigned status.
Won’t keep me from holding a mic apparatus.
I aint running up on labels begging to get signed.
I’m chasing bylines to buy studio time.
Every game I cover gets me closer to
Exactly what I been saying I’m s’posed to do.
Bring a message to the party and some fun to the thinkers.
Beat the system. Make fans run from the bleachers.
I come from a teacher and I’m a soldier’s son.
I’m a dangerous weapon even when I aint holding one.
I gotta chin of granite and sponge-like mind.
Could have been a politician with a tongue like mine.
I aint Barak Obama. I’m Hip Hop’s Osama.
Blowing up like TNT cuz I know Drama.
CLUTCH BRIDGE
I don’t suggest you rush up,
Your rhymes need a touch up.
It would behoove you to hush up
Or I’m a have to do the dang thing and let the clutch up.
Verse 2
You cats are speed bumps and I got 4X4.
You need more men like them dudes going door by door.
My clique is on the rise like DHL.
We’re locking you goons out like the NHL.
Don’t count on us losing. That’s a bad bet man.
We’re on center court and it’s game, set, match (man).
I read my foes quickly like bar codes on lasers.
I always stay sharp like hard cheddar and razors.
My voice is unstrainable. My style is untrainable.
My goals are attainable because I’m insane with flow.
My status as baddest on the mic apparatus
Aint really hard to fathom, it’s just simple mathematics.
Add one strong voice to a crystal clear purpose.
Plus a mind capable of going way beneath the surface.
Multiply that by the tracks I’m creating and
If you still can’t see I’m a beast, YOU’RE HATING!
VERSE 3
Used to think my versatility held back my progress
Like I was doing too much but that was nonsense.
All these hustles and all these grinds
I scald these beats with all these lines.
Cold ones. Hot ones. Intricate plot ones.
I even got a few blow up the mutha fuckin spot ones.
I curse with clarity, flirt with vulgarity.
Fall in love with a beat and by the hook it wants to marry me.
Scarily I keep on improving
Flow like Amoeba D, cuz I keep on moving.
Towards milestones. I’m the illest on any bill I’m on.
This album is the hottest since Mike made that Thriller song.
Feel me Holmes? Then cop this drop.
I stay on that raw like Straw and Doc.
While you kiddies are out wildin past your curfew
I’m cooking up a track to attack and murk you.
HOOK
There’s no doubt that I can serve you.
There’s no defense when my flow circles.
Everyone knows stones can hurt you
But there are times when words can murk you.
We Can Do More
Produced By: DJ Wrecklesss
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 10
Verse 1
Before you start getting all woe is me
Whining that another man aint as po’ as me.
You need to understand just what low could be.
Africans don’t get half the dough you see.
We’re all supposed to be, One World. One Fam.
But most of our brothers won’t see one grand.
Even though I’m ONE man, I still got one plan
To keep the mic in my left and give them one hand.
For every G I see from rocking the mic.
I’m donating matching funds to alter their plight.
I’m trying to use my tools and all my talents.
To improve something besides my bank account balance.
I can’t be flossing with expensive bobbles
While the Motherland’s fight against AIDS is hobbled.
Can’t say that I’m modeled after Martin or Malcolm
But I will do my part to improve the outcome.
Verse 2
This war is a euphemism for Bush-approved killing
If you, think any different then you be illing.
In the end, it’s about dividends and Benjamins
Politicians aren’t leaders. They’re just businessmen.
My country and religion are headed the wrong direction.
Their hypocrisy has caused my insurrection.
Jesus didn’t just save those that have clout
He helped people with homes and those without
It’s not a fight for divine rights. It’s about dinar.
Not defending Stars & Stripes, but fuel for cars
We figure if they chase dollars they’ll stop throwing rocks
Can't commit terrorism, if you're jostling stocks
I’m not saying being broke is gooooood,
But money shouldn’t change our focus bloooood.
It’s liberty and justice for all that got dough.
But for those that don’t they’ll let you die slow.
Verse 3
If we’ll fight so Iraqi women can get an education
Why can’t we send adequate HIV medication
To the 30 million Africans currently infected
We’d rather sacrifice soldiers than have an inspection
Cuz that’s not what imperials are aiming at,
You see there is no economic gain in that
The Middle East has control of all that black gold.
Bush’s Do Boys don’t care about a web of Black souls
64% of all new HIV infections
Come from Africa’s sub-Saharan section
Half of those are kids aged 15 to 24.
A lack of resources only means there’ll be plenty more.
Brothers infect their ladies. These ladies become mothers.
Mothers infect their babies cause we couldn’t be trouble to
Increase education that could help prevent
29 million cases by 2010.
Hook
WE CAN DO MORE!
We can, We can, We can do more!
WE CAN DO MORE!
We can, We can, We can do more!
[In Background (It’s never too late to educate.
We gotta step up the pace and educate.)]
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 10
Verse 1
Before you start getting all woe is me
Whining that another man aint as po’ as me.
You need to understand just what low could be.
Africans don’t get half the dough you see.
We’re all supposed to be, One World. One Fam.
But most of our brothers won’t see one grand.
Even though I’m ONE man, I still got one plan
To keep the mic in my left and give them one hand.
For every G I see from rocking the mic.
I’m donating matching funds to alter their plight.
I’m trying to use my tools and all my talents.
To improve something besides my bank account balance.
I can’t be flossing with expensive bobbles
While the Motherland’s fight against AIDS is hobbled.
Can’t say that I’m modeled after Martin or Malcolm
But I will do my part to improve the outcome.
Verse 2
This war is a euphemism for Bush-approved killing
If you, think any different then you be illing.
In the end, it’s about dividends and Benjamins
Politicians aren’t leaders. They’re just businessmen.
My country and religion are headed the wrong direction.
Their hypocrisy has caused my insurrection.
Jesus didn’t just save those that have clout
He helped people with homes and those without
It’s not a fight for divine rights. It’s about dinar.
Not defending Stars & Stripes, but fuel for cars
We figure if they chase dollars they’ll stop throwing rocks
Can't commit terrorism, if you're jostling stocks
I’m not saying being broke is gooooood,
But money shouldn’t change our focus bloooood.
It’s liberty and justice for all that got dough.
But for those that don’t they’ll let you die slow.
Verse 3
If we’ll fight so Iraqi women can get an education
Why can’t we send adequate HIV medication
To the 30 million Africans currently infected
We’d rather sacrifice soldiers than have an inspection
Cuz that’s not what imperials are aiming at,
You see there is no economic gain in that
The Middle East has control of all that black gold.
Bush’s Do Boys don’t care about a web of Black souls
64% of all new HIV infections
Come from Africa’s sub-Saharan section
Half of those are kids aged 15 to 24.
A lack of resources only means there’ll be plenty more.
Brothers infect their ladies. These ladies become mothers.
Mothers infect their babies cause we couldn’t be trouble to
Increase education that could help prevent
29 million cases by 2010.
Hook
WE CAN DO MORE!
We can, We can, We can do more!
WE CAN DO MORE!
We can, We can, We can do more!
[In Background (It’s never too late to educate.
We gotta step up the pace and educate.)]
Struggle
Produced By: Mr. J
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 9
Intro
This song is dedicated to my parents, Billy and Vickie. I call it The Struggle. Mom and Dad, I love you both so much. When I think about how hard it must have been for you guys to make the decisions you did so early into your own lives I just feel blessed.
VERSE 1
They were two young love birds off at different colleges.
Their bond grew stronger despite increased mileages.
Only three months passed before time wreaked havoc.
How could something so beautiful become so tragic?
Both dropped out, but not because of their grades.
They had a son on the way; it was time to get paid.
Formula costs money and diapers aint free.
So the boy signed up to be all he could be.
They were young and in love, so they kept making bundles
Of joy but not loot. Bank accounts on the humble
Tough decisions, constant sacrifices.
Too broke,too young. This can’t be what life is.
While most of their friends had fun on weekends.
They were home with three kids struggling to meet ends.
Went from high school sweethearts hugged up at the prom.
To my dad asking, “Want to live with me or your mom?”
VERSE 2
I got my first job when most kids were riding bikes.
Partially why I got a late start riding mics.
Parents did the best they could to
Get us out the hood you
Already know they’re beginning wasn’t good dude.
When I look back, I’m nothing but proud.
Cuz my mom got her Masters and my dad’s still around.
He put in mad work raising three bad boys.
Arguing, bickering, and making mad noise.
And though their first son did some time for his sins.
All three went to college and are honorable men.
Cuz my momma and him were the perfect tag team.
Our behavior got sick? They had a vaccine.
That rod got used they wasn’t spoiling nothing.
Every time we showed out, they were uncoiling something.
Their discipline produced a leader of men.
A future doctor and a man of the pen.
Verse 3
How many of yall rode the bus, and then the train.
Got off and rode your bike two miles in the rain
In traffic for the chance to rock 16 bars
Cuz you didn’t want the fact that you had no car
Or that your writing hand sported surgery scars
Keep you from becoming the new age Nas.
It’s hard getting sold, without being bought.
It’s the same selling sacs without being caught.
So the thugs say, but the drug play, aint my runway.
Maybe one day, I can afford a lazy Sunday.
I brag about my hustles but they’re born from need.
My life is no fairytale torn from dreams.
But my parents’ ill beginnings and late demise.
Will never be why I don’t take the prize.
If I have to put in work while you’re taking five
When it’s all said and done I'll still be skating skies.
Hook
Even the strong struggle and strive to maintain.
I hibernate pain as I try to make gains.
Even when roadblocks are dividing both lanes.
My mind just won’t blame. I design my own frame.
Outro
Divorce or not, every good quality I have is directly attributed to the joint effort you guys made to raise me. My strength and stability; my intelligence, my focus. I can never thank you enough. I owe not only my life but the quality of it to you. I love you.
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 9
Intro
This song is dedicated to my parents, Billy and Vickie. I call it The Struggle. Mom and Dad, I love you both so much. When I think about how hard it must have been for you guys to make the decisions you did so early into your own lives I just feel blessed.
VERSE 1
They were two young love birds off at different colleges.
Their bond grew stronger despite increased mileages.
Only three months passed before time wreaked havoc.
How could something so beautiful become so tragic?
Both dropped out, but not because of their grades.
They had a son on the way; it was time to get paid.
Formula costs money and diapers aint free.
So the boy signed up to be all he could be.
They were young and in love, so they kept making bundles
Of joy but not loot. Bank accounts on the humble
Tough decisions, constant sacrifices.
Too broke,too young. This can’t be what life is.
While most of their friends had fun on weekends.
They were home with three kids struggling to meet ends.
Went from high school sweethearts hugged up at the prom.
To my dad asking, “Want to live with me or your mom?”
VERSE 2
I got my first job when most kids were riding bikes.
Partially why I got a late start riding mics.
Parents did the best they could to
Get us out the hood you
Already know they’re beginning wasn’t good dude.
When I look back, I’m nothing but proud.
Cuz my mom got her Masters and my dad’s still around.
He put in mad work raising three bad boys.
Arguing, bickering, and making mad noise.
And though their first son did some time for his sins.
All three went to college and are honorable men.
Cuz my momma and him were the perfect tag team.
Our behavior got sick? They had a vaccine.
That rod got used they wasn’t spoiling nothing.
Every time we showed out, they were uncoiling something.
Their discipline produced a leader of men.
A future doctor and a man of the pen.
Verse 3
How many of yall rode the bus, and then the train.
Got off and rode your bike two miles in the rain
In traffic for the chance to rock 16 bars
Cuz you didn’t want the fact that you had no car
Or that your writing hand sported surgery scars
Keep you from becoming the new age Nas.
It’s hard getting sold, without being bought.
It’s the same selling sacs without being caught.
So the thugs say, but the drug play, aint my runway.
Maybe one day, I can afford a lazy Sunday.
I brag about my hustles but they’re born from need.
My life is no fairytale torn from dreams.
But my parents’ ill beginnings and late demise.
Will never be why I don’t take the prize.
If I have to put in work while you’re taking five
When it’s all said and done I'll still be skating skies.
Hook
Even the strong struggle and strive to maintain.
I hibernate pain as I try to make gains.
Even when roadblocks are dividing both lanes.
My mind just won’t blame. I design my own frame.
Outro
Divorce or not, every good quality I have is directly attributed to the joint effort you guys made to raise me. My strength and stability; my intelligence, my focus. I can never thank you enough. I owe not only my life but the quality of it to you. I love you.
Dixie
Produced By: Mr. J
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 8
VERSE 1
I’m the, son of a southern man, son of soldier.
You’re a son of a bigot that likes to hold on.
To the symbol of a time, when hate was an institution.
When dark skin was due cause for death by execution.
Used to go with my Grandpa when he was cleaning buildings.
Saw his face when they treated us both like children.
Still I try to get along with all of God’s people.
I even treat the ones that call Him Allah as my equal.
But when yall sport the flag, it makes me want to crap on you
Like wearing a “Free McVeigh” shirt in the OK capital.
Your prejudice breeds hate
And those terrorist states.
But I’m a communist if I bring this up in debates.
If you really want to show some southern charm.
Stop waving old Dixie like you got slaves on your farm
That banner you wave is a flag of treason.
So tell me my southerners, what’s the reason.
Is that your history? Is that your heritage?
Do you really want to sport that on the back of carriages?
What’s to be proud about deracinating people?
Assassinating people. Telling blacks that they aint equal.
VERSE 2
My point is not to anger, but to educate.
I’m trying to elevate. Help yall levitate.
The South needed free labor to sustain their economics
So if coin over country is what you really honor
Go ahead and pay your homage to the almighty dollar
If it’s money or your momma just give a rebel holla
But before you slit her throat and take money out her pocketbook.
Take a break for a minute. You got plenty time to stop and look.
We determined States rights when we made the transformation
To Constitution from Articles of Confederation
Rep your block, rep your hood, rep your state whatever
But don’t defend discrimination, Yall should know better.
I’ve got good reasons to be verbally accosting ya
You don’t see German citizens rocking swastikas
You don’t see Brits, Still getting pissed.
Cuz the colonies told them to take their tea and hit the bricks.
But for every practice skipped by Allen Iverson
I heard somebody say “the South will rise again”
But it never fell like the Weebles people.
The Civil War was to ensure we’re treated equal
VERSE 3
I know you think it’s cool. I know you think I’m tripping.
I know you think if I was white, I’d be thinking different.
Greed-based discrimination was the cause and still is
The reason why we lose so many of our kids.
They fall in a darkness called materialism.
The backbone of economic imperialism
You can keep the oval the office.
And your skull and bones offers
Just keep your shackles off us.
We can be our own bosses.
Thank you Russell Simmons, Magic and Bob Johnson.
Thank you Sean Carter. Your examples are awesome.
The trade aint over, I see slaves everyday.
People getting a step closer to their graves everyday.
I don’t wade in the water; I make waves everyday.
Many laid the foundation so I can pave a new way.
To a HIGHER plain, with this HIGH octane
Flow that goes slow but shows I’m HIGHly trained.
The flag stands for treason, ignorance and hate
Not the pride and the heritage of the Southern states
I had to write this song to show yall the truth in it.
That so-called states’ rights had nothing to do with it.
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 8
VERSE 1
I’m the, son of a southern man, son of soldier.
You’re a son of a bigot that likes to hold on.
To the symbol of a time, when hate was an institution.
When dark skin was due cause for death by execution.
Used to go with my Grandpa when he was cleaning buildings.
Saw his face when they treated us both like children.
Still I try to get along with all of God’s people.
I even treat the ones that call Him Allah as my equal.
But when yall sport the flag, it makes me want to crap on you
Like wearing a “Free McVeigh” shirt in the OK capital.
Your prejudice breeds hate
And those terrorist states.
But I’m a communist if I bring this up in debates.
If you really want to show some southern charm.
Stop waving old Dixie like you got slaves on your farm
That banner you wave is a flag of treason.
So tell me my southerners, what’s the reason.
Is that your history? Is that your heritage?
Do you really want to sport that on the back of carriages?
What’s to be proud about deracinating people?
Assassinating people. Telling blacks that they aint equal.
VERSE 2
My point is not to anger, but to educate.
I’m trying to elevate. Help yall levitate.
The South needed free labor to sustain their economics
So if coin over country is what you really honor
Go ahead and pay your homage to the almighty dollar
If it’s money or your momma just give a rebel holla
But before you slit her throat and take money out her pocketbook.
Take a break for a minute. You got plenty time to stop and look.
We determined States rights when we made the transformation
To Constitution from Articles of Confederation
Rep your block, rep your hood, rep your state whatever
But don’t defend discrimination, Yall should know better.
I’ve got good reasons to be verbally accosting ya
You don’t see German citizens rocking swastikas
You don’t see Brits, Still getting pissed.
Cuz the colonies told them to take their tea and hit the bricks.
But for every practice skipped by Allen Iverson
I heard somebody say “the South will rise again”
But it never fell like the Weebles people.
The Civil War was to ensure we’re treated equal
VERSE 3
I know you think it’s cool. I know you think I’m tripping.
I know you think if I was white, I’d be thinking different.
Greed-based discrimination was the cause and still is
The reason why we lose so many of our kids.
They fall in a darkness called materialism.
The backbone of economic imperialism
You can keep the oval the office.
And your skull and bones offers
Just keep your shackles off us.
We can be our own bosses.
Thank you Russell Simmons, Magic and Bob Johnson.
Thank you Sean Carter. Your examples are awesome.
The trade aint over, I see slaves everyday.
People getting a step closer to their graves everyday.
I don’t wade in the water; I make waves everyday.
Many laid the foundation so I can pave a new way.
To a HIGHER plain, with this HIGH octane
Flow that goes slow but shows I’m HIGHly trained.
The flag stands for treason, ignorance and hate
Not the pride and the heritage of the Southern states
I had to write this song to show yall the truth in it.
That so-called states’ rights had nothing to do with it.
Guidelines
Produced By: DJ Wreckless
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 7
Verse 1
The radio is filled with gangstas turned rappers.
Now the underground’s brimming with emcees turned mattress
Dudes with actual skillz getting slept on,
Like an 8 o’clock class. Gotta make this stop fast.
I was born at the beginning and I’m up to the task.
Guidelines to the future’s a gateway to the past.
No mp3s. Just tapes is all we he had
Mobile music was a dude with his boombox on blast.
Now every kid hopping on mics is claiming some hood.
Some hot. Some not. Some good.
Didn’t use to be about your background,
But now it’s who got shot and who got gats now.
Who got stacks now? Or who work trapts now?
Not who moves the crowd, but who moves packs now.
Enough with the fables. The folks want facts now.
I rep for the lyricists. We’re never gonna back down.
Verse 2
I keep my flows untouchable like Elliot Ness.
I’m following the lead of the mighty KRS.
I spit that real Hip Hop no pop pretenders.
I’ll go through ya block like I’m chopping cinder.
I won’t trash my thesis to get cash increases.
My plan is to push rap past this feces
That currently infects it
By deterring the NEXT kid
From being 90 promotion and 10 dir-REC-tion
I got, words to serve. You can’t match my dialogue.
You talk about your chain and how you blast firearms like
Bobby I’m digital. You bammas are analog.
You got a few lines, but I got a whole catalog
When I step to your face, you hoes will scatter off cuz I’m
Repping that BASE. We devour foes at all costs.
When you crowd my plate, I’m brushing you batters off.
I keep it hot like griddles with these riddles I rattle off.
Verse 3
I’m Mike Vick slash AI meets David Robinson.
When your boy gets in the game, there aint no stopping him.
I got military discipline. Shooter’s mentality. And
Revamped the position at which I make my salary.
I'm Kobe on the mic. My attack is relentless.
Lean my 8 to the side then embarrass defenses.
I used to ride the pine like Jordan in high school.
And when I got in the game, the crowd was spiteful.
I had to fight boos. I thought it was quite rude.
But now I’m on stage and they’re like, “you’re tight dude.
My vertical was suspect so I switched games.
Now my verbal a suspect every time you see flames.
The usual response to these bars I spit, is
“Infinite dropped another song? Awww shit!”
I aint spitting on the mic so I can rep my hood.
I just, do what do cuz got dammit I’m good.
Outro
This is how we do it. This is how we do it.
This is how we do it. Grab the mic and spit that fluid.
This is how we do it. This is how we do it.
This is how we do it. Work that track until it’s fluid.
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 7
Verse 1
The radio is filled with gangstas turned rappers.
Now the underground’s brimming with emcees turned mattress
Dudes with actual skillz getting slept on,
Like an 8 o’clock class. Gotta make this stop fast.
I was born at the beginning and I’m up to the task.
Guidelines to the future’s a gateway to the past.
No mp3s. Just tapes is all we he had
Mobile music was a dude with his boombox on blast.
Now every kid hopping on mics is claiming some hood.
Some hot. Some not. Some good.
Didn’t use to be about your background,
But now it’s who got shot and who got gats now.
Who got stacks now? Or who work trapts now?
Not who moves the crowd, but who moves packs now.
Enough with the fables. The folks want facts now.
I rep for the lyricists. We’re never gonna back down.
Verse 2
I keep my flows untouchable like Elliot Ness.
I’m following the lead of the mighty KRS.
I spit that real Hip Hop no pop pretenders.
I’ll go through ya block like I’m chopping cinder.
I won’t trash my thesis to get cash increases.
My plan is to push rap past this feces
That currently infects it
By deterring the NEXT kid
From being 90 promotion and 10 dir-REC-tion
I got, words to serve. You can’t match my dialogue.
You talk about your chain and how you blast firearms like
Bobby I’m digital. You bammas are analog.
You got a few lines, but I got a whole catalog
When I step to your face, you hoes will scatter off cuz I’m
Repping that BASE. We devour foes at all costs.
When you crowd my plate, I’m brushing you batters off.
I keep it hot like griddles with these riddles I rattle off.
Verse 3
I’m Mike Vick slash AI meets David Robinson.
When your boy gets in the game, there aint no stopping him.
I got military discipline. Shooter’s mentality. And
Revamped the position at which I make my salary.
I'm Kobe on the mic. My attack is relentless.
Lean my 8 to the side then embarrass defenses.
I used to ride the pine like Jordan in high school.
And when I got in the game, the crowd was spiteful.
I had to fight boos. I thought it was quite rude.
But now I’m on stage and they’re like, “you’re tight dude.
My vertical was suspect so I switched games.
Now my verbal a suspect every time you see flames.
The usual response to these bars I spit, is
“Infinite dropped another song? Awww shit!”
I aint spitting on the mic so I can rep my hood.
I just, do what do cuz got dammit I’m good.
Outro
This is how we do it. This is how we do it.
This is how we do it. Grab the mic and spit that fluid.
This is how we do it. This is how we do it.
This is how we do it. Work that track until it’s fluid.
Extra Shy
Produced By: Mr. J
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 6
Verse 1
You get, extra high till you think you can fly.
I, testify, you’ll be the next to die.
Your so called friends say it’s harmless.
But last time I checked they weren’t no pharmacists.
Seems like these days I’m an odd emcee
Cuz I don’t use the N-Word and I don’t smoke weed
“But it’s from the Earth son!” So are cigarettes.
So is syphilis. Don’t be ridiculous.
Popping them pills gone get you bottled.
I don’t need narcotics to spit full throttle.
I could, do the dew, drink rum or water.
And spit bars that could pull Bush’s daughters.
And I aint conservative,
But my superlative
Is the emcee with lyrics that are mostly murderous.
Yep I said both of them. Believe I be stroking them.
Like oars in the ocean. But yall keep smoking them
White girls. And sucking on that glass dick.
You’re faker than silicone breasts implants kid.
Only lines I do are in these Hip Hop classics.
Over beats Mr. J digitally transmits.
Verse 2
Yall talk about your money, but inside you’re still broke.
What kind of man would decide to sell coke
To his own people then make songs glorifying it.
No I aint buying it. You’re lucky you aint frying yet.
I don’t care that you used to sell coke
Don’t give a damn that you used to be broke.
Take that whiny fake thug talk back to your stoop
And stay out the booth.
Living that trife life is not okay.
The kiddies even know drugs are bad, mmmkay?
You might sell that powder but your flow is confectioners.
You gotta use fear cuz, no one’s respecting ya.
When yall were on the block doing that splitting up grams thing.
I was here in the booth just doing the damn thing.
When you were shooting hollow tips
And getting fiends to swallow sips
I was getting scholarships
From, multiple colleges.
Excelled in athletics but
My mind is where my power was.
Knew what true knowledge was
Before you knew who your father was
Formulated my own style
Didn’t have to borrow one.
Was born to lead. Never could be a follower.
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 6
Verse 1
You get, extra high till you think you can fly.
I, testify, you’ll be the next to die.
Your so called friends say it’s harmless.
But last time I checked they weren’t no pharmacists.
Seems like these days I’m an odd emcee
Cuz I don’t use the N-Word and I don’t smoke weed
“But it’s from the Earth son!” So are cigarettes.
So is syphilis. Don’t be ridiculous.
Popping them pills gone get you bottled.
I don’t need narcotics to spit full throttle.
I could, do the dew, drink rum or water.
And spit bars that could pull Bush’s daughters.
And I aint conservative,
But my superlative
Is the emcee with lyrics that are mostly murderous.
Yep I said both of them. Believe I be stroking them.
Like oars in the ocean. But yall keep smoking them
White girls. And sucking on that glass dick.
You’re faker than silicone breasts implants kid.
Only lines I do are in these Hip Hop classics.
Over beats Mr. J digitally transmits.
Verse 2
Yall talk about your money, but inside you’re still broke.
What kind of man would decide to sell coke
To his own people then make songs glorifying it.
No I aint buying it. You’re lucky you aint frying yet.
I don’t care that you used to sell coke
Don’t give a damn that you used to be broke.
Take that whiny fake thug talk back to your stoop
And stay out the booth.
Living that trife life is not okay.
The kiddies even know drugs are bad, mmmkay?
You might sell that powder but your flow is confectioners.
You gotta use fear cuz, no one’s respecting ya.
When yall were on the block doing that splitting up grams thing.
I was here in the booth just doing the damn thing.
When you were shooting hollow tips
And getting fiends to swallow sips
I was getting scholarships
From, multiple colleges.
Excelled in athletics but
My mind is where my power was.
Knew what true knowledge was
Before you knew who your father was
Formulated my own style
Didn’t have to borrow one.
Was born to lead. Never could be a follower.
Headband Game
Produced By: Mr. J
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 5
Chorus
Pop Your Head Band! Snap That Thang With Your Left Hand!
Pop it! Pop Pop It! Pop Pop It! Pop Pop It!
Get Some Headband Game.
Verse
There’s some ballers in here that are papered up.
And some real life pimps all tapered up.
Yall brag about the chains that you got on your chest.
But my headband game is twice as fresh.
Yall mean mugging me like you’re King of the Haters?
What you aint never seen a brother coordinating?
Got my headband? Check. My wristbands? Check.
When I walk in the room, girls be breaking necks.
Fighting to get at me like I’m wearing axe.
They’d do the same to you if you learned how to match.
I’m broke, fat, and ashy but got more game than Jillian’s.
Girls be like, “I don’t know what it is, but I’m feeling him.”
I turn my phone off when I’m trying to do shows
But when I hop off stage I’m trying to find some new hoes
I like to make friends in new area codes.
(Tell the truth!) I just want to trade a few Oh’s.
Verse
Your headband game is how you express
Yourself to let your haters know you’re not impressed.
Show off your home team or boost your town.
Right now I’m repping Iota brown.
(Ow Ow!) They come in all styles and types.
You can rock solid colors or ride with stripes.
My favorite shade is Carolina Blue.
My headband game matches what I’m trying to do.
I can wear’em with a throwback. Wear’em with a white tee.
I wear’em with Adidas but some choose Nike.
All the thugs know they can wear’em with a wife beat.
Hot girls wear’em with a thong and a nightie.
Akon might be, oh so icy.
But that route is a little too pricey.
I know a better way you can find you a wifey.
Your headband game can make you hyphy.
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 5
Chorus
Pop Your Head Band! Snap That Thang With Your Left Hand!
Pop it! Pop Pop It! Pop Pop It! Pop Pop It!
Get Some Headband Game.
Verse
There’s some ballers in here that are papered up.
And some real life pimps all tapered up.
Yall brag about the chains that you got on your chest.
But my headband game is twice as fresh.
Yall mean mugging me like you’re King of the Haters?
What you aint never seen a brother coordinating?
Got my headband? Check. My wristbands? Check.
When I walk in the room, girls be breaking necks.
Fighting to get at me like I’m wearing axe.
They’d do the same to you if you learned how to match.
I’m broke, fat, and ashy but got more game than Jillian’s.
Girls be like, “I don’t know what it is, but I’m feeling him.”
I turn my phone off when I’m trying to do shows
But when I hop off stage I’m trying to find some new hoes
I like to make friends in new area codes.
(Tell the truth!) I just want to trade a few Oh’s.
Verse
Your headband game is how you express
Yourself to let your haters know you’re not impressed.
Show off your home team or boost your town.
Right now I’m repping Iota brown.
(Ow Ow!) They come in all styles and types.
You can rock solid colors or ride with stripes.
My favorite shade is Carolina Blue.
My headband game matches what I’m trying to do.
I can wear’em with a throwback. Wear’em with a white tee.
I wear’em with Adidas but some choose Nike.
All the thugs know they can wear’em with a wife beat.
Hot girls wear’em with a thong and a nightie.
Akon might be, oh so icy.
But that route is a little too pricey.
I know a better way you can find you a wifey.
Your headband game can make you hyphy.
Paper Chase
Produced By: Slimer
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 4
Verse 1
Got a call from my connect, said it’s time to make checks.
So I hit the deck. I’ve been waiting to get next.
Had some work for me, down F-L-A.
Didn’t want to leave V-A, but I needed that pay.
Couldn’t be 25 and still living with moms.
Pockets may have been deep, but she had short arms.
Plus the bill collectors kept holding out their palms.
Equation more volatile than hydrogen bombs.
Told my girl I had to leave and damn that hurt.
AC, I still love you for what that’s worth.
Put you on that perch. You’re the end of that search.
Cuz it’s all about the work when I get to that turf.
When I graduated school, I thought I couldn’t lose.
But they told my knowledge wasn’t something they could use.
Had me backed up in the corner so I came out swinging.
Went from Morehouse scholar to down south slinging.
Verse 2
Had one phone number and a single ambition.
Didn’t move for the women. Didn’t move for the fishing.
I knew two souls when I got to the state
Had to hustle hard to keep something hot on my plate.
Hit St. Pete at night; set up shop the next day. (Grinding)
I told yall VA boys don’t play.
Had to call a bunch of times before they’d let me serve lines.
Said I had to start small, gave me the after school grind.
Didn’t know their names but the students knew mine.
Still had VA plates so I wasn’t hard to find.
Got my celly switched to local so they’d know where to go to.
Cruised around riding dirty but I stayed away from Popo.
Always on the prowl like a preying mantis.
Brought new meaning to the phrase, “Big Man On campus.”
All I needed was a chance, now I’m all up in this paper man.
Getting mad respect like Aretha Frank-Uhh- lan
Verse 3
Distribution was happy cuz I flipped work quickly.
If they needed it moved fast they learned they could pick me.
Money was coming lovely so I paid some debts.
Couldn’t say I loved cash but we made some sex.
I bought a big truck and moved closer to the water.
Felt good to be living like I always thought I ought ta.
Now some of yall are still thinking I was doing dirt.
But that phone call I got was for newsprint work.
I could never sell drugs. That would let down my relatives.
When I said my connect I was talking about my editor.
There’s perfect explanation for why the kids knew me.
I worked for St. Pete Times on the high school beat.
It might’ve sounded like I had the dope game smothered
But I was the man when it came to sports page coverage.
Never missed a deadline and the copy was flawless.
So I never had to resort to something lawless.
Hook
I do it for the paper, but I aint run of the mill.
I’m on my grind dog trying to pick up some bills.
Never thought I’d be the type to have to work the block.
But I’d do a lot worse though if this work gets stopped.
Album: The Anomaly
Track #: 4
Verse 1
Got a call from my connect, said it’s time to make checks.
So I hit the deck. I’ve been waiting to get next.
Had some work for me, down F-L-A.
Didn’t want to leave V-A, but I needed that pay.
Couldn’t be 25 and still living with moms.
Pockets may have been deep, but she had short arms.
Plus the bill collectors kept holding out their palms.
Equation more volatile than hydrogen bombs.
Told my girl I had to leave and damn that hurt.
AC, I still love you for what that’s worth.
Put you on that perch. You’re the end of that search.
Cuz it’s all about the work when I get to that turf.
When I graduated school, I thought I couldn’t lose.
But they told my knowledge wasn’t something they could use.
Had me backed up in the corner so I came out swinging.
Went from Morehouse scholar to down south slinging.
Verse 2
Had one phone number and a single ambition.
Didn’t move for the women. Didn’t move for the fishing.
I knew two souls when I got to the state
Had to hustle hard to keep something hot on my plate.
Hit St. Pete at night; set up shop the next day. (Grinding)
I told yall VA boys don’t play.
Had to call a bunch of times before they’d let me serve lines.
Said I had to start small, gave me the after school grind.
Didn’t know their names but the students knew mine.
Still had VA plates so I wasn’t hard to find.
Got my celly switched to local so they’d know where to go to.
Cruised around riding dirty but I stayed away from Popo.
Always on the prowl like a preying mantis.
Brought new meaning to the phrase, “Big Man On campus.”
All I needed was a chance, now I’m all up in this paper man.
Getting mad respect like Aretha Frank-Uhh- lan
Verse 3
Distribution was happy cuz I flipped work quickly.
If they needed it moved fast they learned they could pick me.
Money was coming lovely so I paid some debts.
Couldn’t say I loved cash but we made some sex.
I bought a big truck and moved closer to the water.
Felt good to be living like I always thought I ought ta.
Now some of yall are still thinking I was doing dirt.
But that phone call I got was for newsprint work.
I could never sell drugs. That would let down my relatives.
When I said my connect I was talking about my editor.
There’s perfect explanation for why the kids knew me.
I worked for St. Pete Times on the high school beat.
It might’ve sounded like I had the dope game smothered
But I was the man when it came to sports page coverage.
Never missed a deadline and the copy was flawless.
So I never had to resort to something lawless.
Hook
I do it for the paper, but I aint run of the mill.
I’m on my grind dog trying to pick up some bills.
Never thought I’d be the type to have to work the block.
But I’d do a lot worse though if this work gets stopped.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)