Word...Life

[Verse 1] Let the chyme be a party of mine Let the rhyme enter twine like a vine Work your mentally found intellect I raise eyes like the sight of a tec Lets take a trip inside of my thoughts Will I persevere on the mic like sports? Take me in stride

How shall I begin? I'll fuck at the wind Come out on top bruised but still and all I'm winnin in the end O period C period, you're fearin it Next to me and my mic, rappers are just inferior My posterior pulls not my brain, but secondary Mic to mouth,

[Chorus] Yo, I'm here to make mad moves, I won't pop On the planet to drop jewels, I won't pop Perpretatin' fame into news Give in O.C. point o' viewz Check me out, yo Now for mine it's a threat to pose you like a gun I even gon' stand and fight, or

You lack the minerals and vitamins, irons and the niacin Fuck who that I offend, rappers sit back I'm bout to begin Bout foul talk you sqwak, never even walked the walk More less destined to get tested, never been arrested My album will manifest many

Like the dead end kids, we used to play in the streets Never worryin about grief, football spelled relief Ronnie ? was the coach for us See he taught us to play, almost every single day, OK Now on Evergreen was Larry and Mike and Lon My cousin Boo li