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$marcx - x-rated lyrics
[malcolm x soundbite]
“that’s exactly what’s wrong with you! you do too much singing! today it’s time to stop singing, and start swinging!”
[verse 1]
now as a kid i was a notty-headed rascal, bashful
now i’m a militant n-gga, like castro with an afro!
the last hope for this hip hop genre, i’m a sponsor
for good weed, and good karma
entrepeneur, the ganja consumer
the rap al capone making mobster maneuvers
wait! i got a confession, that last line was my best nas impression
and that don’t show signs of progression
what’s on my mind? i ain’t wrote in so long
truth be told, i ain’t even know how to approach this song
i see bombed churches, lynchings, k-9’s barking
fast forward 50 years: look at trayvon martin
same story: we just lost another law-abiding citizen
whats new? a priest going raw inside a kid again!
what? it really happens so i got the right to spit the sh-t
but i won’t elaborate, cuz i ain’t into politics
even though it’s sad to say, i just lost a scholarship
along with my grades, i admit i let my dollars slip
you live, you learn: the cycle of life
but live right, whether muslim or disciple of christ
i don’t know if i was dreaming, or the henn had me trippin
but i swear i had a vision of big l’s apparition
that’s why i don’t like sippin, l said “i see you baby pa keep spittin!”
now that’s deep! the street-living ain’t cheap, you gotta pay a cost
and before it’s said and done, son, you will take a loss
now i ain’t tryna tell the next n-gga how he should survive
i’m just saying i ain’t doing jail time for nan n-gga!
and even if you stuck slinging pizza and fries
that beats living in prison fixing broken transmittors
your cellmate keep asking “yo homie, what you in fo? (info)
oh a little indo? i know how that go”
then he offer you a cigarette and say “yo, you smoke?”
but don’t take it, cuz on the low he probably be a rapist
when you see him in the shower, and you b-tt-naked
stab him with the shank that you made from that bff bracelet!
it’s your life, you chose it, you embrace it
it sho sucks for you that we can’t trade places
until we meet again and you back on the street
cam capollo on the beat make my cypher complete! b-tchhhhhh! bioootch!!
[malcolm x]
“you don’t have a revolution in which you love your enemy! revolutions overturn systems! a revolution is bl–dy!”
[verse 2]
your own people turn against you, look at malcolm x!
but all snakes get spotted from this falcon’s nest
living without regrets, though i’m a tad pessimistic
if you ever cross me you best expect a visit
so don’t be surprised when we bring that drama to su casa!
gone be hard to watch like when scar took out mufasa!
never compromise for nothing, even if it means dollars
because more money means more problems
and more problems means more stress, and more stress = early death
shall i go more in depth? is you deaf?
if you owe me a debt, then your best bet
would be to pay me and try to make that check stretch!
yes, yes, motherf-cker fnbe lifestyle!
dropping purple-colored leaves in my green white owl
last week made a trip to the store on my street
to get rillos, that n-gga made me show id
i’m 19! well f-ck it, i just took it as a compliment
mama had a babyface, and her genes (jean’s) dominant!
so ima get the props, that i’m rightfully deserving
i just play it humble, cuz i don’t like to be a burden
i rap like it’s the 90’s cuz i’m ill like that
and if i talk like i’m the best it’s cuz i feel like that!
still i act nonchalant like i ain’t got no troubles
kick the defense while they’re down, going in: no huddle!
my whole squad get live, n-gga what’s your reb-ttal?
everyday is a high when you live like i!
these n-ggas don’t listen i try to tell em what they should know
tried to give em food for thought, i guess they had that plate to go
marc be the name, money be the alias
i’m from a place where ain’t no love for a thousand-mile radius
maybe it’s just me, but i can’t let my culture die
because real artists never perish, we multiply!
“ma i wanna be a rapper!” she gave a dull reply
she said, “that’s a bold claim for a no-name”
from long range, spot a poser in my domain
slowly approach and aim, get low, and blow his brain
music laced with novacane, used to say my flow was lame
now i bet they know his name!
mane i am known as the spliff-master, and that’s apparent cuz my lips blacker
than tarred cement pouring onto a brick plaza
only concerned with the big matters
when i was 13, you couldn’t call me a kid rapper
i’m just tryna maximize my green
i’m talking filthier than 5 fiends with bad hygiene
is it so much for me to have dreams to ride clean?
like the stars on the widescreen? nah mean!?!
take em back to the essence, they probably don’t remember that
i was in the booth before i knew about a democrat!
© $marcx 2013
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