what would i do
if i couldnt write
couldnt type
no wooten hype
without drew goodens height
my shoe footings nike
without checks, i sho slip
now or next
with no regrets, dawg
i sho tip
or empty a whole clip
like, bloaw, hold this
from new york to ole miss
til death hold me in his cold grip
then its g.o rip
no meddlin man
the pain would quit
the medicine man
would stop pedalin
like his chain done slipped
am i sane or sick
everything in shambles here
cant get on track
the samples aint cleared
no shine
just hang around lights
like chandeliers
when the vandals near
in the p.m.
like a change of shift
you see'em gather round trees
like the exchange of gifts
smell the strains of piff
hear the hiss of spray cans
rifts from the whispers
as the goods trade hands
its trade man
with the same e's
that turn mad into made men
love clubs, chains and whips
sorta like cavemen
who got the props
like stagehands
til they re-instate the draft
ballers dont flood blocks dawg
better re-inflate your raft