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(featuring J-Live) |
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"Give it up! But - it's - just - no - use!" |
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[Chorus: sample] |
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"Give it up! Oh Lord.... give it all to you |
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I try, but - it's - just - no - use!" |
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[R.A. the Rugged Man] |
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Aiyo, give it up, rush you up, no fuss, blood rush |
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Cuss much, what's mine? You bust nuts, crunch crunch |
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Spark the bud, what's what, the white King Tut |
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Out in so-f**k, look who they dug up, yup, it's the Rugged |
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On the record with J-Live, I could hardly believe this |
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I never thought I'd be rapping on no record with school teachers |
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Hair flinch from the eighties, library, lies bury |
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TV, tell lies visually, kid you wit me, hostility |
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Humility, hillbilly, gorilla, he mentally illy |
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Still is he, actually, really killed me, billy |
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All that stuff you heard about me, is probably true |
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Heard I got the AIDS virus, I probably do |
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Ammunition spitting is him, is it, you listening |
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Littering written, it's in slippers, get the rebel in him |
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Sticking it with sinners, sizzlin' rhythm, verbally hit him |
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Did he did it, or did he didn't, admit it |
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Pretend he ain't offended, the men and women |
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Every minute they in it, don't be |
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Every illiterate ignorant critical dissed it |
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Every idiot that ain't live it, they talking shit |
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I'm R.A. the Rugged Man, get off, my dick |
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[Chorus] |
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[J-Live] |
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Give it up, for the Gods & the Earths, ladies and gentleman |
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All the human families, the wicked can't stand me |
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The righteous man hands me the mic, it's uncanny how |
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One man's penalty's, is another man's boo-whore |
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The label pun's ironic, courtesy of this sport |
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Still can't stop a grown man, from pressing report |
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A free man can either be freedom or free label |
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When you spent, what you make, to keep making, you can't save |
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A damn thing, no savings, that's how life'll enslave ya |
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That's why I strive daily; to be my own savior |
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I know when shine glows and reflects in my behavior |
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So caught in between checks, I spilled it in respect |
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So give it up, if your mission's belittling my position |
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As a microphone physician, making you listen |
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Me and Rugged Man relate, through a previous poem |
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Like he said, I'm mad famous, for being unknown |
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On records for ten years, I can hardly believe it |
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Never thought I'd be perceived, as just some rapping school teacher |
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Just some dude, that can cut and rhyme, same time |
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Just some conscious kid, that's try'nna save the world through rhyme |
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Just another underground, hand-to-mouth microphonist |
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Stop your mirror rap, just to stop you in your tracks |
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This will stomp you on your track, justice is not just |
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Another ordinary rapper, I'm the crown royal block |
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With a velvet bag, matter of fact, and since the swagger is back |
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And backed by, a whole nation of millions |
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You can't hold me, my new floor is my old ceiling |
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That's why I'm guaranteed, to leave you with something you lack, so just |
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[Chorus] |
