Way before me, way before pistols, way before Cristal, way before crystal/
There was just Kris...Parker/
Not Peter, a Criminal Minded leader/
Whose lyrical rhyming meter was fluid in measured liters/
Absorbed by these Roots, at the Tipping Point/
Before Things Fall Apart, with the Blackest of Thoughts, I spit the joint/
Make 'em dance, a pimp with the providence, champion of chance/
Raw with the Dice - Dave Chappelle, Leonard Washington/
They say he M.Illitant, but he just dilligent/
The say sky's the limit, so I'm hanging with the ceiling fan/
Biohazardous, stay spitting sicker than/
Your lyric slinging coughing guy/
Marching with the Pharoahe - spit the glyphs off sarcophagi/
Simon Says see The Light - The Truth, y'all be walking by/
I been spitting that Panthro - waving red and blue nunchucks/
Way ahead of you numb nuts, educating the young ones/
Rebounding redundants/
1 comment:
This reminds me of something I wrote 4 years ago... just pulled this out the crates of Xanga. It doesn't come to par with yours... but just so you understand:
Days have overcome nights and pleas for a longer stay overcome sleep. Feeding my inner drive I add fuel, supplied by my friends of the North and South, to H.E.R. fire. S.H.E. is not an individual. S.H.E. is H.E.R. own culture. Enduring and surviving lawless and ignorant revolutions derived by pathetic rhymes of worthless luxuries that add on to H.E.R. environment's pollution, I know S.H.E. still lives. Kings and queens of her divinity Mos Def will burn and sacrifice for her musical entity. Talib-erty of true essence and soul, S.H.E. hits home to the projects, the suburbs, and the ghettos. In Common with no other, H.E.R. ability to be so real is unreal and leaves hearts in utter. The Roots she planted for the devoted to teethe on spread on from Jill to Erykah, to Laur-yn Hill tops to mountain tops to black tops, in Black Thoughts to brown thoughts to white thoughts. S.H.E. thrived during the reign of Dead Presidents. Her followers are reFugees of "What" "Okay" "Yeah" "Hanh!"... unnecessary ramblings of a decayed era, whose effects, in the end, will be no Biggie. Dilated Peoples yearn for H.E.R. truth and techniques, which Immortal they will forever remain. Underground S.H.E. lurks in such an Arrested Development, yet, S.H.E.'s Slick like Rick and hangs Deep with the Mobb and S.H.E. ranges H.E.R. deals from Metal Face 2-pac man. H.E.R. takeover is only greeted by "Nas" from the brainwashed and hated. Dr.s and Doggs truly appreciate H.E.R., while some Daddys tend to drift from H.E.R. only to become Diddys. S.H.E. has legit contributors across the alphabet from A-I, Jay-Z, but some will never see the end of H.E.R. '96 and '97 conspiracies. S.H.E. is the Grandmaster of pure beats and Boogie Down Productions. I breathe H.E.R. air and fight for H.E.R. cause... S.H.E. is the Black Star I will always pray upon.
I know you and I will...
always love H.E.R.
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