*0% finance

I took her off the showroom floor no money down
Near the Chrysler building in the heart of Midtown
200 horse-power under the hood
Junk in the trunk very far from damaged goods
Designer frames with windshields that stay tinted
The most beautiful thing someone invented
Her wrangler had a sticker on the bumper
A sign in case tow trucks tried to dump her
Rear view mirror that of Serena William
Staring was a crime then the look, kill 'em
Brushless showers and the Brazilian wax
Cash in the glove compartment free from tax
Low mileage on the odometer
Graduate with more degrees than a thermometer
Spark plugs for great conversation
She would focus on the finish line and destination
Steering in the right direction
Made sure I wore seat belts had air bags for protection
In her tank she loved to stash my tool
I kept her full, super-unleaded fuel
She had a room full of skirts and rims
The old ones used to swing off ropes that often hung from limbs
A temp at the Ford modeling agency
Suburban area where the Caucasians be
Her great-grandfather was a Cherokee Indian
Explorer and navigator traveling then begin
Sharpening his arrows on Plymouth Rock
Commander-in-chief who raise cattle on the selling of livestock
King of the frontier, rider of thoroughbreds
He was just as sharp as a needle without thread
Legend in truth but known to run the herd
His sons were oldsmobiles who drank thunderbird
Land cruisers sitting on fertile soil
With equipment that ran off expensive oil
Folks bragging said the horse pulled a Volkswagen
They love mustang sally and lollygagging
Fished in Lake Tahoe cooked the barracudas
Hunted impalas with the six-shooters
From a long range with the dog Rover
It was something else to see 'em knock them over

Some got caught in the crossfire
Bunch of rabbits indicating these dudes should retire
One was going bald rocking a sunroof
A gas guzzler and his grill was one tooth
A strong accent, and a beard like Lincoln
Who hated the golf course, but he loved drinking
Avenger, used to pick up chicks
Had magnums that were ram tough but thick
He wore blazers where he used to hide the Ruger
For encounters with the jaguars and cougars
A veteran who could salute and sing the anthem
In accord with the plan he was the phantom
He had a fat lady they called hummer
And umm, she needed body work the whole summer
She had a few friends who used to stay in a pound
Abandoned the parking lots, and junk yard bound
Regulars in rest areas and truck stops
Cassette players, known to make the tape pop
Gold diggers who on the cream like Wells Fargo
In Vegas, they circle around the Monte Carlo
You know the snakes with the fangs and vipers
Bloodsuckers who ???? juice then piss from diapers
Met the Cavaliers at the Outback steakhouse
Chicken cutlets (cutlass) supreme just for takeout
One of them was forced to live in Astoria
'Cause at the auction, they had crowned victoria
Since then her friends charged her battery
Had her running off with the sweets of flattery
She kept a loud muffler, couldn't trust her
Police used to always pull over this duster
A pothead who some called a firebird
A foul mouth, who could have used wiser words
Her man used to hustle and ran a crack corner
So insecure he kept LOJACK on her
Creeping with his visors low, high-beaming
Temper would accelerate, private eye scheming
He would check her consoles for rubbers
She would pass the inspection with flying colors
She would turn left if he said right
On her cycle, he would often run red lights
His voiced echoed as she dodged the convo

-----"PROTOOLS"-----

Her previous owner, all he did was bone her
Some drove her crazy, she was just a loner
He had her leaking transmission fluids
Said it was an accident, didn't mean to do it
No insurance with her grill decayed
She sobbed uncontrollably, still stayed
Another total eclipse so the heart
Like the freezing weather that never gave her a start
Plus he had a sidekick in his garage
If he needed a boost, she would give him a charge
He was sentenced for running an escort service
Escaped from prison but made a few nervous
His baby mother (had wifed a?) BMW
Number one on the list, so he brought trouble to
She done everything to gain her liberty
Tried to be outty (Audi), but went into delivery
Moved to Aspen, survived a avalnche
A different element, inside a fatter ranch
Far away, when she changed the pattern
The distance was like from Mercury to Saturn


hear here >>> gza - 0% finance
1.
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beautiful

i see a black man aimin his gun;
but I'd rather see a black man claimin' his son



Listen, I got a lot to say (yeah)
Usually my smile stay locked away
But not today, I have to laugh
On the real the Aftermath's kind of ill like I'm Dr. Dre
Sometimes I run to the club and get faded
It's funny how you get jaded, I just hate it (just hate it)
But this song gives a different kind of feelin'
It's a new kind of dealin', it's a special kind of healin' (uh huh)
And I can show what it is
Best flow in the biz? You know what it is
Positive over negative, see the Ace a Masta
Even when I face disaster (that's right)
I rise up above
See, people still showin' me love
Get the respect without droppin' a check
This hip hop thing might stop in a sec
So this brand new ish, you can pop in the deck
It's beautiful

Yeah, this is brand new Uptowns still in the box
This is the Yankees, 10-nothin', killin' the Sox
This ain't huggin' the block wit' a gat in ya hand
This is ??? on the Catamaran (that's right)
With the sun beamin' down while you sat in the sand
I feel like I'm more than a cat wit' a plan
This feels like it's more than a flash in the pan
This is milk in the cup and cash in ya hand
This is a warm coat on the coldest night
That's why I stole this mic, y'all don't hold this right (nope)
First in a class of many
This is a bottle of Jack and a glass of Henny (that's right)
Now drink it up 'til there ain't nothin' left in it
I'm reppin' it, BK, that's a definite
There's more of these amazing rhymes
A song like this in these days and times is beautiful

(I'm wishin' on and on and on...) the most beautiful thing ever
And it's here to bring terror to the bling era (yeah)
You can feel it in ya inner
It's like Grandma's house, Thanksgiving dinner
It's like a day in the park
Or at night when you get the ball and you play in the dark (swish)
It's that street corner music
Where most cats when they pull that heat go and use it
I see a black man aimin' his gun
But I'd rather see a black man claimin' his son
You know the sound is pretty
Even when you got to get down and gritty
This is money in the bank like you down wit' Diddy
This a helicopter ride around the city
And we love it cuz it brought us here
It's like a young mother braidin' her daughter's hair
It's beautiful

hear here >>> masta ace - beautiful
1.
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webcam girls wanted

+=
reply to: dckjnsn+webcam@gmail.com
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daddy's little girl

for: drea"fat baby"dnera

happy 3rd

Daddy's little girl, but not the girl that daddy knew
Daddy never had a clue of what his little girl would do
A drifter, swift to open up and get with ya
A pocket full of dreams, as for my love - forget ya
I never concentrated on the fact that I'm loved, scheme for scheme
And things that would lead me to a pipe dream
Picture it, yes, I'm daddy's little girl
I never asked for nothin, now it's a string of pearls
My chances are thin, could I win with a substance?
A princess with a smile, but my sweetness was sort of grim
I never fought the feelin that I had to be wild
Cause in my mind I was a mature child
But I could't hurt daddy, I played the role
But on the sneak tip, I was massagin his soul
Nikki had to be free, you see, I had to be me
Or life just wouldn't flow through correctly
Being daddy's little girl

Daddy'd always tuck me in bed and kiss me goodnight
Said, "Nikki, sleep tight," then turn off the light
And when he goes away on a business trip
I flip, lose my grip - party time - ah shit!
Tell the girls, split the duty, one go pick up the booze
My other half, move your ass and go spread the news
The party went on, lasted all night long
Song after song (to the break of dawn)
Then watch some nasty porns in the morn'
My body got warm, hmm - from gettin freaky with Vaughn
Sexin like crazy, my body amazed me
By takin a chance with a man that didn't faze me
A night so hectic, a bit unexpected
Before I made love, I shoulda been protected
Cause now I'm in a jam with this careless punk
And in about 3 months my stomach will be plump
Trouble, yes, I'm in the hot seat now
Tell my pops? No way, no how
It'll break his heart, wreck his whole world
To have to grow up quick - daddy's little girl

Neighbors asked could he trust me, yeah, daddy loves me
Cause I can feel it in his arms strong when he hugs me
But there comes a time when his angel must spread her wings
So I bow my head and get deep into the swing of things
Sort of raunchy I must be, cause mama knew
Every time I skipped school mama sat home and sang the blues
Now I regret the day that daddy let me out to play
But I'm a woman now, so let's keep it this way
Daddy's little girl


hear here >>> nikki d - daddy's little girl

1.

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streets of new york

In the streets of new york
Dope fiends are leaning from morphine
The tv screen followed the homicide scenes
You live here, you’re taking a chance
So look and I take one glance, there’s a man inside an ambulance
Crowds are getting louder, I wonder how the
People want to go fight for the white powder
People hanging in spots
They waited until the blocks got hot
And got raided by the cops
I’ll explain the man sleeping in the rain
His whole life remains inside a bottle of night train
Another man got his clothes in a sack
Cause he spent every dime of his rent playing blackjack
And there’s the poor little sister
She has a little baby daughter
Named sonja and sonja has pneumonia
So why’s her mother in a club unzipped though?
Yo that’s her job, sonya’s mommy is a bar stripper
Drug dealers drive around looking hard
Knowing they’re sending their brothers and sisters to the graveyard
Every day is a main event, some old lady limps
The pushers and pimps eat shrimps
It gets tiring, the sight of a gun firing
They must desire for the sound of a siren
A bag lady dies in an alleyway
She’s seen the last of her days inside the subways
More and more down the slope, the kid couldn’t cope
So he stole somebody’s dope and a gold rope
Now my son’s on the run, he’s a wanted one
Had fun then was done by a shotgun
Upstairs I cover my ears in tears
The man downstairs must've drank too many beers
Cause every day of his life he beats his wife
Till one night she decides to pull a butcher knife
Blind man plays the sax
A tune called “the arms on my moms show railroad tracks"

many lives are cut short That’s when you’re living
In the streets of new york

Baby needs new shoes
But his papa uses all the money for booze
A young girl is undressed in the back seat of a caddy
Calling some man daddy
Three men slain inside an apartment
All you could see was the sparks when it darkened
Daylight broke, cops roll on the scene
The drug war, daily routine
Gambling spots, just a poor man’s jackpot
You winning a lot, you get shot
The drug dealing fanatics
But you don’t want no static
Cause they got crack addicts with automatics
Shoot-outs for a desire for territory
A kid got caught in the crossfire
A tired mother can’t take no more
She grabbed the bottle full of sleeping pills and took about 24
Human beings are laying on the pavement
Cause they’re a part of the mental enslavement
The cop snipers, little babies in dirty diapers
This type of life is making you hyper
People scouting a torched-out building
And got killed when the cold air filled in
Is hell really suggested?
No more persons arrested, a child molested
A little kid says, yo
I got a color tv, cd player and car stereo
And all I want is a capsule
I also got a .38, don’t give me no hassle
One kid heads straight for the top
And gets stopped and popped by a crooked cop

(because of the [in bold] lyrics, this album was banned from selling)
Look behind you when you walk
That’s how it is in the streets of new york

kool g rap - streets of new york
1.

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how to survive in south central

How to survive in South Central (what you do?)
A place where bustin a cap is fundamental
No, you can't find the shit in a handbook
Take a close look, at a rap crook
Rule number one: get yourself a gun
A nine in your ass'll be fine
Keep it in your glove comparment
cause jackers (yo) they love to start shit
Now if you're white you can trust the police
but if you're black they ain't nothin but beasts
Watch out for the kill Don't make a false move
and keep your hands on the steering wheel
and don't get smart Answer all questions,
and that's your first lesson on stayin alive
In South Central, yeah, that's how you survive

Rule number two: don't trust nobody
especially a bitch, with a hooker's body
cause it ain't nuttin but a trap
And females'll get jacked and kidnapped
You'll wind up dead
Just to be safe don't wear no blue or red
cause most niggaz get got
in either L.A., Compton or Watts
Pissed-off black human beings
So I think you better skip the sight-seeing
And if you're nuttin but a mark
make sure that you're in before dark
But if you need some affection mate
Make sure the bitch ain't a section eight
cause if so that's a monkey-wrench hoe
and you won't survive in South Central

Rule number three: don't get caught up
Cause niggaz are doing anything that's thought up
And they got a vice
on everything from dope, to stolen merchandise
We discern
cause South Central L.A., is one big yearn
Waitin for a brother like you to catch a disease
and start slangin ki's
to an undercover or the wrong brother
And they'll smother, a out of town motherfucker
So don't take your life for granted
cause it's the craziest place on the planet
In L.A. heroes don't fly through the sky of stars
they live behind bars
So everybody's doin a little dirt
And it's the youngsters puttin in the most work
So be alert and stay calm
as you enter, the concrete Vietnam
You say, the strong survive
Shit, the strong even die, in South Central

hear here >>> ice cube - how to survive in south central (la)
1.
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my philosophy

ok ok ok ok, this is hands down one of drey's favorite joints.
(see how relevant the lyrics are even today?) "Some mcs be talkin and talkin
Tryin to show how black people are walkin
But I dont walk this way to portray
Or reinforce stereotypes of today
Like all my brothas eat chicken and watermelon
Talk broken english and drug sellin
See Im tellin, and teaching real facts
The way some act in rap is kind of wack
And it lacks creativity and intelligence
But they dont care cause the company is sellin it
Its my philosophy, on the industry ... "

Let us begin, what, where, why, or when
Will all be explained like instructions to a game
See Im not insane, in fact, Im kind of rational
When I be asking you, who is more dramatical?
This one or that one, the white one or the black one
Pick the punk, and Ill jump up to attack one
Krs-one is just the guy to lead a crew
Right up to your face and dis you
Everyone saw me on the last album cover
Holding a pistol something far from a lover
Beside my brother, s-c-o-t-t
I just laugh, cause no one can defeat me
This is lecture number two, my philosophy
Number one, was poetry you know its me
This is my philosophy, many artists got to learn
Im not flammable, I dont burn
So please stop burnin, and learn to earn respect
cause thats just what k-r collects
See, what do you expect when you rhyme like a soft punk
You walk down the street and get jumped
You got to have style, and learn to be original
And everybodys gonna wanna dis you
Like me, we stood up for the south bronx
And every sucka mc had a response
You think we care? I know that they are on the tip
My posse from the bronx is thick
And were real live, we walk correctly
A lot of suckas would like to forget me
But they cant, cause like a champ
I have got a record of knocking out the frauds in a second
On the mic, I believe that you should get loose
I havent come to tell you I got juice
I just produce, create, innovate on a higher level
Ill be back, but for now just seckle!

Ill play the nine and you play the target
You all know my name so I guess Ill just start it
Or should I say, start this, I am an artist
Of new concepts at their hardest (?)
Cause, yo, Im a teacher and Sott is a scholar
It aint about money cause we all make dollars
Thats why i walk with my head up
When I hear wack rhymes I get fed up
Rap is like a set-up, a lot of games
A lot of suckas with colorful names
Im so-and-so, Im this, Im that
Huh, but they're all just wick-wick-wack
Im not white or red or black
Im brown.. from the boogie down
Productions, of course our music be thumpin
Others say their bad, but theyre buggin
Let me tell you somethin now about hip hop
About d-nice, melodie, and scott la rock
Ill get a pen, a pencil, a marker
Mainly what I write is for the average new yorker
Some mcs be talkin and talkin
Tryin to show how black people are walkin
But I dont walk this way to portray
Or reinforce stereotypes of today
Like all my brothas eat chicken and watermelon
Talk broken english and drug sellin
See Im tellin, and teaching real facts
The way some act in rap is kind of wack
And it lacks creativity and intelligence
But they dont care cause the company is sellin it
Its my philosophy, on the industry
Dont bother dissin me, or even wish that we
Soften, dilute, or commercialize all our lyrics
Cause its about time one of yall hear it
And hear it first-hand from the intelligent brown man
A vegetarian, no goat or ham
Or chicken or turkey or hamburger
cause to me thats suicide - self murder
Let us get back to what we call hip hop
And what it meant to dj scott la rock...

How many mcs must get dissed
Before somebody says, dont f*** with kris!
This is just one style, out of many
Like a piggy bank, this is one penny
My brothers name is kenny - thats, kenny parker
My other brother i.c.u. is much darker
Boogie Down Productions is made up of teachers
The lecture is conducted from the mic into the speaker
Who gets weaker? the king or the teacher
Its not about a salary its all about reality
Teachers teach and do the world good
Kings just rule and most are never understood
If you were to rule or govern a certain industry
All inside this room right now would be in misery
No one would get along nor sing a song
cause everyoned be singing for the king, am I wrong? !
So yo, whats up, its me again
Scott la rock, krs, bdp again
Many people had the nerve to think we would end the trend
With Criminal Minded , an album which is only ten
Funky, funky, funky, funky, funky hit records
No more than four minutes and some seconds
The competition checks and checks and keeps checkin
They buy the album, take it home, and start sweatin
Why? well its simple, to them its kind of vital
To take krs-ones title
To them Im like an idol, some type of entity
In everybodys rhyme they wanna mention me?
Or rather mention us, me or scott la rock
But they can get bust get robbed, get dropped
I dont play around nor do I eff around
And you can tell by the bodies that are left around
When some clown jumps up to get beatdown
Broken down to his very last compound
See how it sounds? a little unrational
A lot of mcs like to use the word dramatical!
Fresh for 88, you suckas...

hear here: krs-1 (bdp) - my philosophy & video

1.

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classic hip hop albums

remember when the source mag was "the hip hop bible"?
remember when the source mag had more ads than features?
remember when the source mag got biased & opinionated?
remember when the source mag lost all credibility?
remember when the source mag went r.i.p.?
ahhhh, the good ol' daze.
*legend has it that drey used to smoke & talk nothing but hip hop
with his source in his back pocket...always.
hip hop heads on the east can agree on 70% of classic albums.
ra, pe, kane, atcq, de la, nas, jay, main source, etc...all hold a spot
on the list for us along with dre, snoop & cube on da left side of things.
if you're new or not too familiar with quality, heartfelt, treasured,
innovative, creative hip hop, this may be the list(s) of albums to
*drey clears throat* get.
lotta golden era releases here. for those puzzled about the
"hip hop is dead" saying, just take notice of the era(years) most
classics were released...see if you can spot the
golden era posts on this blog (dreysay2).

see list here at rateyourmusic.com
1.
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therapy

All i, seem to, think about is violence
It doesn't matter if I'm dead sober or I'm bent
It's strange, I'm not insane or at least I don't think so
Or am i? you think so doc, truthfully I don't know
So what do I do I go to my crew and ask for help
But they ain't no help, they go through the same shit their damn self
So I look deep into the mind of a crook
Then out of nowhere I envision two right hooks
Aww damn, again goes this shit i
Can't get out of this cycle, dish one got me whipped
From the thought of a brain bashing, doctor stop me
Before I blow my motherf**kin top g

See that leather sofa over there? yeah
Sit back with this six-pack and a spliff
That have your mind twisted while we chit-chat I like that
I think that, we should start with the session uh-huh
But before we begin let me ask you a few questions uh-huh
Have you been touched the wrong way? nah
Involved in gun play yeah
The town let me guess acquited like you was o.j. how you know?
Typical black life you jack knifes under a sea biscuit
Get specific an stop f**kin around wit that crack rock yo I don't smoke doze
Yes you do duke I can tell
'cause you actin funny, like when blacks get money

Brummy jazz only married to jawana
And instead of helping you're getting me heated like a sauna

Just trying to get into your head
Pardon the way I treat you
Tell me bout your scar, did your momma beat you nah man
F**k the mystery duke tell me your history
You're pissin me off
Plus the time keep on clippin see

Chorus:

I need a doctor to give me some therapy
I need a doctor to check my, my brain

Verse two: rock, ruck

As I think back, to the nineties
That's when life got extra grimy
Multiplied with a fleet behind me
Wasn't smart to try me, physical fam gave less than a
Which added on to eighties anger tearing through my inner
(now we're gettin somewhere, yah) it's all becoming clear
I always feared I have to play the rear til I was outta here
That's when I flipped out and became a plane
That transform into a robot rokk da kids was his name
(one of them decep niggaz) yup takin dope clothes and then some
I bend some (did you have any legal source of income? )
I said farewell to welfare crazy long ago
They want you to work for them peanuts now
Man you need a shrink if you think i'ma go (huh)
Then any thoughts and hopes of rehabilitation
Were chilled when I lost my nigga phil it's been downhill
Ever since, and ain't nobody helpin me
So I came to you, the doctor killpatients for therapy

Chorus

Verse three: ruck

Bust the prognosis, better yet duke have a dosage
Of prescribed poetry that people perceive as potent
I've been goin through your file and I found a conclusion
That you destined to be the best in this world of confusion
You lose when you fall victim to evil ways
I know crime pays but the rhyme slays nowadays
Take two of these and if you have a problem at all
I'm on call twenty-four hours to brawl, word is bond

Chorus
heltah skeltah - therapy

1.

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when the gun draws

(feat. Denaun Porter)
[Chorus:]

Good evening,
My name's Mr. Bullet
I respond to the index when you pull it, the trigger
So make a note, take a vote
Quick man, nickname's Quaker Oates 'cause
Whether domestic violence or coke deals
See how less has changed brain matter to oatmeal
And when I kill kids they say shame on me
Who the fuck told you to put they names on me?
White man made me venom to eliminate
Especially when I'm in the hood, I never discriminate
Just get in 'em, then I renovate
Flesh, bone, ain't nothing for me to penetrate
And it can happen so swiftly
One false move might just shift me
If I'm in-lodged and your soul's not claimed
I'll remind that ass when it's about to rain like

[Chorus]
First the gun draws and you know, that something's happening
Then darkness falls and oh, your heart beats rapidly
Be prepared because, war is coming
You can't be scared now, when the streets is calling you

Would the new method of murder be arson or firebombs?
If the cost of a single bullet was more than the firearm
Strange that is, when all exists are final
Point blank range that is
My attitude is cold and callus
Killed Kings in Tennessee
Presidents in Dallas
And if the past be known, at last we know
What happened that afternoon on the Grassy Knoll
It's what made a widow of Jackie O.
The government hired Lee Harvey to blast me though
Fatality shot entered from the right temple
Was not fired from a six-story window
Can it be that it was all so simple,
But yet remains so painful to rekindle
I come through your city I'm hot
Whether you're jiggy or not
Whether your Biggie or 'Pac
"When the Gun Draws"
hear here >>> pharoahe monch - when the gun draws
1.
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...mind sex

in case you have the iq of the screen you're currently
staring at or you just didnt notice, 97% of the mp3s
posted here are built around a concept...a theme.
you want mt musick; turn on your radio.

[Chorus]
It's time for some mind sex, we ain't got to take our clothes off yet
We can burn the incense, and just chat
Relax, I got the good vibrations
Before we make love let's have a good conversation

Pardon me love but you seem like my type
What you doin tonight? you should stop by the site
We could, roll some weed play some records and talk
I got a fly spot downtown Brooklyn, New York
Now I know you think I wanna fuck, no doubt
but tonight we'll try a different route, how bout we start
With a salad, a fresh bed of lettuce with croutons
Later we can play a game of chess on the futon
See i ain't got to get in your blouse
It's your eye contact, that be getting me aroused
When you show me your mind, it make me wanna show you mines
Reflecting my light, when it shines, just takin our time
Before the night's through, we could get physical too
I ain't tryin to say I don't wanna fuck, cause I do
But for me boo, makin love is just as much mental
I like to know what I'm gettin into

[Chorus]

It's time for some mind sex, we ain't got to take our clothes off yet
We can burn the incense, and just chat
Relax, I got the good vibrations
Before we make love let's have a good conversation
Time for some mind sex...

(singing): before we make love

Yeah, what you know about mind sex?

(singing): before we make love

African princess, tell me yo' interests
Wait, let me guess boo, you probably like poetry
Here's a little something I jotted down in case I spotted you around
So let me take this opportunity
Would you share a moment with me, over herbal tea?
Take a walk verbally, make a bond certaintly
Cuz in my hand I bet your hand fit perfectly
And it's like we floatin out in space when you flirtin wit me
C'mon, a little foreplay don't hurt (hmmm)
Imagine my chest under this shirt, your ass under your skirt
It's like walking the hot sands and finding an oasis
Opposites attract that's the basis
Our sex is the wind that seperates the yin from the yang
The balance that means complete change, our aim
Is to touch you in a delicate spot
And once we get it started I ain't trying to stop

[Chorus]

It's time for some mind sex, we ain't got to take our clothes off yet
We can burn the incense, and just chat
Relax, I got the good vibrations
Before we make love let's have a good conversation
Mind sex...

[Spoken]
She smiles, I smile
She walks, no she glides softly by me changing night into day
She opens her mouth to speak, and so sounds ring in my head
She speaks, and i want to dance to her rhythm
She moves ever so gently, increasing my desires,
As i place my arms around her waist,
Hold and squeeze unto me,
I want to melt into her body, and discover the base of her warmth
Her beautiful black body that, no human mind could ever conceive
She's love
She's truth
She's real, as real as the stars that shine in the heavens
As real as the sun that bathes her body,
As real as the moon that glows and the birds that sing and the rose
That blossoms in spring for she is that rose
And not just any rose,
But a black rose,
Black rose stands tall and stronger than any other plant
A black rose, that stands as creator, of nations of
Black rose
That never loses her petals, and blossoms all year round
Black rose,
Sweet rose,
Thornless rose
Eternal rose
Please look my way,
Please look my way
Please look my way
Black rose

dead prez - mind sex

1.

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icandy hannah

hannah gabriels: hey dickie
drey: whats good b!tch ?

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take it personal

I never thought that you would crab me
Undermine me, and backstab me
But I can see clearly now the rain is gone
The pain is gone but what you did was still wrong
There was a few times I needed your support
But you tried to play me like an indoor sport
like racquetball, tennis, pool, whatever
All I know is you attempted to be clever
Nevertheless, cleverness can't impress
Cause now you've been exposed like a person undressed
cause I see through you, I'm the Guru
Now what you gonna do when I step to you
and when I pay you back I'll be hurting you
This ain't no threat so take it personal

Rap is an art you can't own no loops
It's how you hook em up and the rhyme style troop
So don't even think you could say someone bit
off your weak beat come on you need to quit
I flip lines and kick rhymes that never sound like yours
There oughtta be laws against you yapping your jaws
Originality overflows from in me
and the truth is, that you wish you could live the
life I live and kick the lyrics I kick
But bear in mind that you can't think as quick
So Premier drops a beat, for me to say verses to
And if I sound doper then take it personal

Don't be mad cause I don't come around the way
like I used to, I don't have time these days
I'm keeping busy making power moves
Don't try to say I don't remember you
You shouldn't let your jealousy show like that
I stopped coming by, cause of the way you act
Telling my business to kids I don't even know
You're like a daytime talk show, and that's low
So you can tell everyone, that I'm jerking you
And if you don't like it, take it personal

gangstarr - take it personal
1.
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o.c. time's up (pt.1)

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 things that I saw did or heard about
or told first hand never word of mouth
What's in the future for the fusion in the changer?
Rappers are in danger who will use wits to be a remainder
When the missile is aimed, to blow you out of the frame
Some will keep their limbs and, some will be maimed
The same suckers with the gab about, killer instincts
but turned bitch and knowin damn well they lack
In this division the conniseur, crackin your head with a 4 by 4
Realize sucka, I be the comin like Noah
Always sendin you down, perpetratin facadin what you consider
a image, to me this is, just a scrimmage
I'm feel I'm stone, not cause I bop or wear my cap cocked
The more emotion I put into it, the harder I rock
Those who pose lyrical but really ain't true I feel

"Their time's limited, hard rocks too" -> Slick Rick
(from the song _Hey Young World_)

Speakin in tongues, about what you did but you never done it
Admit you bit it cause the next man gained platinum behind it
I find it ironic, so I researched and analyzed
Most write about stuff they fantasized
I'm fed up with the bull, on this focus of weed and clips
and glocks gettin cocked, and wax not bein flipped
It's the same old same old just strain it from the anal
The contact, is not com-pexed or vexed
So why you puhsin it? Why you lyin for? I know where you live
I know your folks, you was a sucka as a kid
Your persona's drama, that you acquired in high school in actin class
Your whole aura is plexi-glass
What's-her-face told me you shot this kid last week in the park
That's a lie, you was in church with your moms
See I know yo, slow your roll, give a good to go
Guys be lackin in this thing called rappin just for dough
Of course we gotta pay rent, so money connects, but uhh
I'd rather be broke and have a whole lot of respect
It's the principal of it, I get a rush when I bust
some dope lines oral, that maybe somebody'll quote
That's what I consider real, in this field of music
Instead of puttin brain cells to work they abuse it
Non-conceptual, non-exceptional
Everybody's either crime-related or sexual
I'm here to make a difference, besides all the riffin
The traps are not stickin, rappers stop flippin
For those who pose lyrical but really ain't true I feel

"Their time's limited, hard rocks too" -> Slick Rick
(from the song _Hey Young World

hear here >>> oc - time's up

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relapse

drey usually won't post entire studio releases;

but damn marshall done did it again...

DL here >> relapse

1.

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the catcher in the rye

read this....someday; this is a fave of terrorists,
serial killers & the criminally insane...
The Catcher in the Rye - by J D Salinger

1
If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, an what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth. In the first place, that stuff bores me, and in the second place, my parents would have about two hemorrhages apiece if I told anything pretty personal about them. They're quite touchy about anything like that, especially my father. They're nice and all--I'm not saying that--but they're also touchy as hell. Besides, I'm not going to tell you my whole goddam autobiography or anything. I'll just tell you about this madman stuff that happened to me around last Christmas just before I got pretty run-down and had to come out here and take it easy. I mean that's all I told D.B. about, and he's my brother and all. He's in Hollywood. That isn't too far from this crumby place, and he comes over and visits me practically every week end. He's going to drive me home when I go home next month maybe. He just got a Jaguar. One of those little English jobs that can do around two hundred miles an hour. It cost him damn near four thousand bucks. He's got a lot of dough, now. He didn't use to. He used to be just a regular writer, when he was home. He wrote this terrific book of short stories, The Secret Goldfish, in case you never heard of him. The best one in it was "The Secret Goldfish." It was about this little kid that wouldn't let anybody look at his goldfish because he'd bought it with his own money. It killed me. Now he's out in Hollywood, D.B., being a prostitute. If there's one thing I hate, it's the movies. Don't even mention them to me.

Where I want to start telling is the day I left Pencey Prep. Pencey Prep is this school that's in Agerstown, Pennsylvania. You probably heard of it. You've probably seen the ads, anyway. They advertise in about a thousand magazines, always showing some hotshot guy on a horse jumping over a fence. Like as if all you ever did at Pencey was play polo all the time. I never even once saw a horse anywhere near the place. And underneath the guy on the horse's picture, it always says: "Since 1888 we have been molding boys into splendid, clear-thinking young men." Strictly for the birds. They don't do any damn more molding at Pencey than they do at any other school. And I didn't know anybody there that was splendid and clear-thinking and all. Maybe two guys. If that many. And they probably came to Pencey that way.

Anyway, it was the Saturday of the football game with Saxon Hall. The game with Saxon Hall was supposed to be a very big deal around Pencey. It was the last game of the year, and you were supposed to commit suicide or something if old Pencey didn't win. I remember around three o'clock that afternoon I was standing way the hell up on top of Thomsen Hill, right next to this crazy cannon that was in the Revolutionary War and all. You could see the whole field from there, and you could see the two teams bashing each other all over the place. You couldn't see the grandstand too hot, but you could hear them all yelling, deep and terrific on the Pencey side, because practically the whole school except me was there, and scrawny and faggy on the Saxon Hall side, because the visiting team hardly ever brought many people with them.

There were never many girls at all at the football games. Only seniors were allowed to bring girls with them. It was a terrible school, no matter how you looked at it. I like to be somewhere at least where you can see a few girls around once in a while, even if they're only scratching their arms or blowing their noses or even just giggling or something. Old Selma Thurmer--she was the headmaster's daughter--showed up at the games quite often, but she wasn't exactly the type that drove you mad with desire. She was a pretty nice girl, though. I sat next to her once in the bus from Agerstown and we sort of struck up a conversation. I liked her. She had a big nose and her nails were all bitten down and bleedy-looking and she had on those damn falsies that point all over the place, but you felt sort of sorry for her. What I liked about her, she didn't give you a lot of horse manure about what a great guy her father was. She probably knew what a phony slob he was.

The reason I was standing way up on Thomsen Hill, instead of down at the game, was because I'd just got back from New York with the fencing team. I was the goddam manager of the fencing team. Very big deal. We'd gone in to New York that morning for this fencing meet with McBurney School. Only, we didn't have the meet. I left all the foils and equipment and stuff on the goddam subway. It wasn't all my fault. I had to keep getting up to look at this map, so we'd know where to get off. So we got back to Pencey around two-thirty instead of around dinnertime. The whole team ostracized me the whole way back on the train. It was pretty funny, in a way.

The other reason I wasn't down at the game was because I was on my way to say good-bye to old Spencer, my history teacher. He had the grippe, and I figured I probably wouldn't see him again till Christmas vacation started. He wrote me this note saying he wanted to see me before I went home. He knew I wasn't coming back to Pencey.

I forgot to tell you about that. They kicked me out. I wasn't supposed to come back after Christmas vacation on account of I was flunking four subjects and not applying myself and all. They gave me frequent warning to start applying myself--especially around midterms, when my parents came up for a conference with old Thurmer--but I didn't do it. So I got the axe. They give guys the axe quite frequently at Pencey. It has a very good academic rating, Pencey. It really does.

Anyway, it was December and all, and it was cold as a witch's teat, especially on top of that stupid hill. I only had on my reversible and no gloves or anything. The week before that, somebody'd stolen my camel's-hair coat right out of my room, with my fur-lined gloves right in the pocket and all. Pencey was full of crooks. Quite a few guys came from these very wealthy families, but it was full of crooks anyway. The more expensive a school is, the more crooks it has--I'm not kidding. Anyway, I kept standing next to that crazy cannon, looking down at the game and freezing my ass off. Only, I wasn't watching the game too much. What I was really hanging around for, I was trying to feel some kind of a good-bye. I mean I've left schools and places I didn't even know I was leaving them. I hate that. I don't care if it's a sad good-bye or a bad good-bye, but when I leave a place I like to know I'm leaving it. If you don't, you feel even worse.

I was lucky. All of a sudden I thought of something that helped make me know I was getting the hell out. I suddenly remembered this time, in around October, that I and Robert Tichener and Paul Campbell were chucking a football around, in front of the academic building. They were nice guys, especially Tichener. It was just before dinner and it was getting pretty dark out, but we kept chucking the ball around anyway. It kept getting darker and darker, and we could hardly see the ball any more, but we didn't want to stop doing what we were doing. Finally we had to. This teacher that taught biology, Mr. Zambesi, stuck his head out of this window in the academic building and told us to go back to the dorm and get ready for dinner. If I get a chance to remember that kind of stuff, I can get a good-bye when I need one--at least, most of the time I can. As soon as I got it, I turned around and started running down the other side of the hill, toward old Spencer's house. He didn't live on the campus. He lived on Anthony Wayne Avenue.

I ran all the way to the main gate, and then I waited a second till I got my breath. I have no wind, if you want to know the truth. I'm quite a heavy smoker, for one thing--that is, I used to be. They made me cut it out. Another thing, I grew six and a half inches last year. That's also how I practically got t.b. and came out here for all these goddam checkups and stuff. I'm pretty healthy, though.

Anyway, as soon as I got my breath back I ran across Route 204. It was icy as hell and I damn near fell down. I don't even know what I was running for--I guess I just felt like it. After I got across the road, I felt like I was sort of disappearing. It was that kind of a crazy afternoon, terrifically cold, and no sun out or anything, and you felt like you were disappearing every time you crossed a road.

Boy, I rang that doorbell fast when I got to old Spencer's house. I was really frozen. My ears were hurting and I could hardly move my fingers at all. "C'mon, c'mon," I said right out loud, almost, "somebody open the door." Finally old Mrs. Spencer opened. it. They didn't have a maid or anything, and they always opened the door themselves. They didn't have too much dough.

"Holden!" Mrs. Spencer said. "How lovely to see you! Come in, dear! Are you frozen to death?" I think she was glad to see me. She liked me. At least, I think she did.

Boy, did I get in that house fast. "How are you, Mrs. Spencer?" I said. "How's Mr. Spencer?"

"Let me take your coat, dear," she said. She didn't hear me ask her how Mr. Spencer was. She was sort of deaf.

She hung up my coat in the hall closet, and I sort of brushed my hair back with my hand. I wear a crew cut quite frequently and I never have to comb it much. "How've you been, Mrs. Spencer?" I said again, only louder, so she'd hear me.

"I've been just fine, Holden." She closed the closet door. "How have you been?" The way she asked me, I knew right away old Spencer'd told her I'd been kicked out.

"Fine," I said. "How's Mr. Spencer? He over his grippe yet?"

"Over it! Holden, he's behaving like a perfect--I don't know what. . . He's in his room, dear. Go right in."

2

They each had their own room and all. They were both around seventy years old, or even more than that. They got a bang out of things, though--in a half-assed way, of course. I know that sounds mean to say, but I don't mean it mean. I just mean that I used to think about old Spencer quite a lot, and if you thought about him too much, you wondered what the heck he was still living for. I mean he was all stooped over, and he had very terrible posture, and in class, whenever he dropped a piece of chalk at the blackboard, some guy in the first row always had to get up and pick it up and hand it to him. That's awful, in my opinion. But if you thought about him just enough and not too much, you could figure it out that he wasn't doing too bad for himself. For instance, one Sunday when some other guys and I were over there for hot chocolate, he showed us this old beat-up Navajo blanket that he and Mrs. Spencer'd bought off some Indian in Yellowstone Park. You could tell old Spencer'd got a big bang out of buying it. That's what I mean. You take somebody old as hell, like old Spencer, and they can get a big bang out of buying a blanket.

His door was open, but I sort of knocked on it anyway, just to be polite and all. I could see where he was sitting. He was sitting in a big leather chair, all wrapped up in that blanket I just told you about. He looked over at me when I knocked. "Who's that?" he yelled. "Caulfield? Come in, boy." He was always yelling, outside class. It got on your nerves sometimes.

The minute I went in, I was sort of sorry I'd come. He was reading the Atlantic Monthly, and there were pills and medicine all over the place, and everything smelled like Vicks Nose Drops. It was pretty depressing. I'm not too crazy about sick people, anyway. What made it even more depressing, old Spencer had on this very sad, ratty old bathrobe that he was probably born in or something. I don't much like to see old guys in their pajamas and bathrobes anyway. Their bumpy old chests are always showing. And their legs. Old guys' legs, at beaches and places, always look so white and unhairy. "Hello, sir," I said. "I got your note. Thanks a lot." He'd written me this note asking me to stop by and say good-bye before vacation started, on account of I wasn't coming back. "You didn't have to do all that. I'd have come over to say good-bye anyway."

"Have a seat there, boy," old Spencer said. He meant the bed.

I sat down on it. "How's your grippe, sir?"

"M'boy, if I felt any better I'd have to send for the doctor," old Spencer said. That knocked him out. He started chuckling like a madman. Then he finally straightened himself out and said, "Why aren't you down at the game? I thought this was the day of the big game."

"It is. I was. Only, I just got back from New York with the fencing team," I said. Boy, his bed was like a rock.

He started getting serious as hell. I knew he would. "So you're leaving us, eh?" he said.

"Yes, sir. I guess I am."

He started going into this nodding routine. You never saw anybody nod as much in your life as old Spencer did. You never knew if he was nodding a lot because he was thinking and all, or just because he was a nice old guy that didn't know his ass from his elbow.

"What did Dr. Thurmer say to you, boy? I understand you had quite a little chat."

"Yes, we did. We really did. I was in his office for around two hours, I guess."

"What'd he say to you?"

"Oh. . . well, about Life being a game and all. And how you should play it according to the rules. He was pretty nice about it. I mean he didn't hit the ceiling or anything. He just kept talking about Life being a game and all. You know."

"Life is a game, boy. Life is a game that one plays according to the rules."

"Yes, sir. I know it is. I know it."

Game, my ass. Some game. If you get on the side where all the hot-shots are, then it's a game, all right--I'll admit that. But if you get on the other side, where there aren't any hot-shots, then what's a game about it? Nothing. No game. "Has Dr. Thurmer written to your parents yet?" old Spencer asked me.

"He said he was going to write them Monday."

"Have you yourself communicated with them?"

"No, sir, I haven't communicated with them, because I'll probably see them Wednesday night when I get home."

"And how do you think they'll take the news?"

"Well. . . they'll be pretty irritated about it," I said. "They really will. This is about the fourth school I've gone to." I shook my head. I shake my head quite a lot. "Boy!" I said. I also say "Boy!" quite a lot. Partly because I have a lousy vocabulary and partly because I act quite young for my age sometimes. I was sixteen then, and I'm seventeen now, and sometimes I act like I'm about thirteen. It's really ironical, because I'm six foot two and a half and I have gray hair. I really do. The one side of my head--the right side--is full of millions of gray hairs. I've had them ever since I was a kid. And yet I still act sometimes like I was only about twelve. Everybody says that, especially my father. It's partly true, too, but it isn't all true. People always think something's all true. I don't give a damn, except that I get bored sometimes when people tell me to act my age. Sometimes I act a lot older than I am--I really do--but people never notice it. People never notice anything.
read in its entirety here Click Here to Read More..

eminem - 3am

Your're walking down a horror corridor
It's almost 4 in the morning and
your in a.....nightmare its horrible
Right there's the coroner, waiting for ya to
turn the corner so he can corner ya
Your a goner he's on to ya, out the
corner of his cornea, he just saw ya run
All ya want is to rest cause
you cant run anymore your done
All he wants is to kill you in front of an audience
While everybody is watching in the party applauding it
Here I sit while im caught up in deep thought again,
contemplating my next plot again
Swallowing a Klonopin while I'm nodding in and out
on the ottoman at the Ramada inn,
holding onto the pill bottle then
Lick my finger and swirl it around the
bottom and make sure I got all of it
Wake up naked at McDonalds with blood
all over me, dead bodies behind the counter shit
Guess I must have just blacked out again, not again

(Chorus)
It's 3am in the morning, put my key in the door and,
bodies laying out all over the floor and,
I don't remember how they got there,
but I guess I must have killed them, killed them

(Verse 2)

Sitting nude in my living room, its almost noon
I wonder whats on the tube,
maybe they'll show some boobs
Surfing every channel until I find Hannah Montana
then I reach for the aloe and lanolin
Bust all over the wall panel and dismantling
every candle on top of the fireplace mantle
Grab my flannel and my bandanna then
kiss the naked mannequin man again
You can see him standing in my
front window if you look in
I'm just a hooligan who's used to using
hallucinogens, causing illusions again
Brain contusions again, cutting and bruising the skin;
razors, scissors, and pens; Jesus when does it end
Mazes that I go through, gazed and I'm so confused,
days that I don't know who, gave these molecules too
Me, what am I gon' do. Hey! the prodigal son.
The diabolical one, very methodical when I slaughter them

(Chorus)
It's 3am in the morning, put my key in the door and,
bodies laying out all over the floor and,
I don't remember how they got there,
but I guess I must have killed them, killed them

(Bridge/Break)

It puts the Lotion in the bucket,
It puts the lotion on the skin,
Or else it gets the hose again!

It puts the Lotion in the bucket,
It puts the lotion on the skin,
Or else it gets the hose again!

(Verse 3)
I cut and I slash, slice, and gash, last night was a blast!
I can't quite remember when I had
that much fun off of a half pint of the Jack
My last VIC and a half
A flashlight up Kim Kardashian's Ass.
I remember the first time
I dismembered a family member
December I think it was I was
having drinks with my cousin
And I wrapped him in Christmas
lights, pushed him into the stinking tub
Cut him up into pieces and just when I went to drink his blood
I thought I outta drink his bath water that outta be fun
That's when my days of serial murder manslaughter begun
The sight of blood excites me that might be an artery son
Your blood covered: And screams,
this don't seem to bother me none
It's 3am and here I come so you should probably run
A secret passage way around here man there's got to be one
Oh no there's probably none, he can
scream all that he wants....top of his lungs
But there ain't no stopping me from chopping him up

(Chorus)
It's 3am in the morning, put my key in the door and,
bodies laying out all over the floor and,
I don't remember how they got there,
but I guess I must have killed them, killed them. Click Here to Read More..

Unexplainable.net

2012 Great Polar Shift, Time of Revelation, Humans Ascend, Theory
By Unexplainable.net
2/15/04

I have been fascinated with the great time shift that is scheduled to occur Dec 21 2012. As Theory Says, Between 2004 and 2012, the Earth will make it's shift into the 4th dimension and shortly after to the 5th dimension. Is this another bogus theory, or is it real?

I have been examining this theory piece by piece and I am desperately seeking more information.. Let me go over my knowledge of the Situation as I know now..
Mayan Calendar

Let's start with the Mayan People. Well before Christ in the beginning of mans existence, the Mayan Civilization brought much knowledge to this world. With there complex Math equations, to the most accurate calendar in existence..
The Mayan people Made a calendar that is the world's most accurate calendar ever. Just like our calendar 30 days/12 months the Mayan uses the numbers 20/13. So-far no inaccuracies have been found in the Mayan calendar.. The Tzolkin Calendar left by the Mayans Started recording time in 3,114 BC and the Calendar Ends in 2,012AD. The Mayan Tzolkin Calendar is a Cycle of almost precisely 5,125 days
Keep in mind that the Mayans were thousands of years Before Christ. In the stages of primitive Man. But yet They were able to exactly pinpoint (to the day) the two Venus Transits and when humanity will change forever.
All types of info can be found in google. http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&lr=&ie=ISO-8859-1&q=2012+mayan+calendar
It has been Proven By NASA That these calculations were exactly correct. See this page published By NASA http://sunearth.gsfc.nasa.gov/eclipse/transit/venus0412.html This EXTREMELY RARE Alignment will indeed happen in 2012.
Earths Hum
Scientists also know the Frequency Hum in the Earth is Rising. Our Earth Hum was a constant 7.8 Cycle frequency. we used that 7 cycle format for almost all communications since it is the Baseline. In the Past few years, the Earth's Hum is Changing. The Frequency is rising and has been recorded past 11 cycle format. Right now the Earth Raised about 4 solid cycles in frequency measurements.
Earths Poles Flipping
Scientists believe this raise in Frequency goes directly hand and hand with the Poles getting ready to flip. That's right, Earths Magnetic Properties are changing. The North Side Will Soon Point South, and South Will point North. The Earth Will Flip 120 degrees. Think I'm Crazy? Read what the respected Denver Post Published. http://www.denverpost.com/Stories/0,1413,36%257E11676%257E1825410,00.html Scientists around the world are aware of this situation. You can find this information in University Websites, Lecture Notes, and Throughout Books and Publications all over. Nasa Publishes about Polar Flipping occurring in Stars, planets, and Solar bodies. Evidence even shows us that Earths Poles have flipped in the past. The last great pole flip occurred intimately 780,000 years ago. This is also a known Fact and BBC News Offers my backup http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/3359555.stm
So-far We Covered the Change of frequency Vibrations given off by the Earth, The Great Polar Flip, The Super Rare Earth Venus Alignment, and The Extremely Accurate Mayan Calendar. Now I am going to go cover how they all fit.
Brain Frequency And Sine Waves
We know that Change in frequency affect the brains reception guidelines. In other words, If you use a frequency brain stimulation machine doctors can enhance, change, and alter a persons senses. If two frequencies are transmitted with a small gap between them, Like 400Hz and 410Hz The brain will even out the difference naturally make the brain produce a 3rd tone. This 3rd tone made by your brain is a pure Sine wave. The sine-wave will be a 10 Hz tone. Experimenting through the whole range of alpha and theta waves ( from 5 - 12 Hz) it was found that a combination of frequencies consistently caused a complete shift in consciousness. So when the Earths Frequencies finish their change, our senses and brain thought pattern will be seriously deformed. Our electrical body pulses that control every move your body makes, will adjust itself to the Earth.
Facts
1. The Earth will Complete its 5,200 year Mayan Cycle on Dec 21st 2012.
2. The Great Planetary Alignment (Venus transit) http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&lr=&ie=ISO-8859-1&q=2012+transit will occur in 2012. http://sunearth.gsfc.nasa.gov/eclipse/transit/venus0412.html
3. The Earth's Poles are due to flip and the Earth is showing signs of the flip approaching http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/3359555.stm
Other References and Supporting Information
The Mayan Calendar Predicts A great change in humanity. We will ether the 4th Dimension than quickly ascend to the 5th dimension. The Government is aware of the situation and can-not control it. They have tried through Brain Washing with the Buzz saw project and Even time travel with the Montauk project to prevent this occurrence.
This site had full interviews with Al Bielek and other witnesses and workers who were involved in the Philadelphia experiment and the Montauk Project. http://www.freezone.org/mc/e_conv06.htm
Drunvalo Melchizedek Is a great teacher that teaches about this occurrence and offers lecture and courses of study. Plenty of info available on him here http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&lr=&ie=ISO-8859-1&q=drunvalo&btnG=Google+Search .
Well I can go on and on about this Amazing Theory.. I want to open this up for conversation..

{drey}
well, i guess science is science is science...right?
1.
Click Here to Read More..

...get lifted

...love da shirt.

I grab the forty rip off the skirt
Guzzle it, grab the mic and come out the woodworks
When shits thick and no time to think
Keith murray gets busy off a basic instinct
I puff a l and drink some liquor
Sit down and write a jam that receive the muhfuckin sticker
As God as my witness, with the sickness
Of a cannibalist cannibus I floats like a cumulus
My perpetual rebel intellectual
Wont catch a bad experience, with hallucinogenic either
I float simply with the canibus setiva
As my speech fall deep as in the scriptures
And graphic opponents like picasso paint in pictures
If my eyes aint red, its all in my head
Once said by a ph.d med
Legalize and Ill advertise, cuz

*chorus*
[yeah] (i... get lifted)
[roll a phillie and get]
[roll a ziggy and get] (fire up this funk)
[yeah, like that yall/yeah word up] (i... get lifted)
[roll/puff the phillie and get]
[roll/puff the ziggy and get] (fire up this funk, fire up this funk)

This the real deal not a publicity stunt
I gets high like if the man in the movie puffin blunts
But verily barely merrily is it dope or the dream
Step into my chain izm intervene the smokescreen
I captivate it then cultivate it, jealous of my desire
Smoke it down to the fire, anything to get a little higher
Ive been to college but to be truthfully frank
Weed is knowledge, cause it makes me think
I pick anatomy and hem reality like jah
Rastas read the bible, after puffin sensimillia
And the seeds it gets me high to fly, I aint bullshittin
You can ask bill clinton, he could verify that

*chorus*

Step into this intersection and take this rap
I got a vicious plot but first take me by the weed spot
I do this for my niggaz locked down runnin capers
Smokin herb, in the Bible papers
But how does it feel when you got no fire?
And cant pass di dutchie pon de leffhand side
What the fuck? who the fuck wanna fuck
With the six shot shooter, I murder you over buddha
What I discuss'll bust a rhyme style nucleus
And roast them ghostes, puffin hocus pocus
So kid, pass that bomb trom word bond
So I can toke it with more wins than a python
Different strokes for different folks
He like the chocolate thai
You like to float with the green skunky smoke
Roll up a fat one and pass it around
Laid back hypnotized by the funky sound, word

*chorus 2x*

1.

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how to roll a blunt

a bit of special edumacation for ya'll... Check out a new type of gimmick which is splendid
Since youre down with other shit, lets see if youre down with this
Its about strictly trying to roll a blunt
When you get the hang of it, youll catch more blunts than archie bunk
First of all you get a fat bag of ism
From uptown, any local store sells the shit friend
Purchase a philly, not the city of philly
Silly punk, Im talking bout the cigar the philly blunt
Lick the blunt and then the philly blunt middle you split
Dont have a razor blade, use ya fuckin fingertips
Crack the bag and then you pour the whole bag in
Spread the ism around until the ism reach each end
Take your finger and your thumb from tip to tip
Roll it in a motion then the top piece you lick
Seal it, dry it wit ya lighter if ya gotta
The results, mmmmmmmm....proper

Thats how you roll a blunt
Thats how you roll a blunt
Thats how you roll a blunt
Thats how you roll a blunt
Thats how you roll a blunt
Thats how you roll a blunt
Lets all roll a blunt
..and get fucked up (yea)
(repeats again)

The second paragraph might makes you laugh
When a brotha rolls a blunt and his breath smells like gr-ass
Thats when you know you gotta take the blunt from him
Cuz his breath has the dragon in the dungeon
(yo, yo, yo, light the blunt. uh yo, heres the lighter..)
I would if this shit would stop drippin wit saliva
And if you gonna lick it, dont drown it with ya spit, shit
I dunno what dick or last puss you licked quick
And how bout the non-blunt rollin females
That always fucks it up cuz they dont wanna break their lee nails
(hee hee hee hee hee, sorry Red for spilling it..)
you better pickup every seed of it
Because I paid 10 bills for the get ill..
And for spilling it you better get lost or get grilled
Bo know everything from sports to other stuff
But I bet you bo dunno know to roll a blunt.

(bridge)
Yo, yo, check this out
I want all the real niggas out there and the females too
If you got a fat blunt in ya mouth and you feeling high as hell
I want yall to repeat after me, check it out
Im fucked up (Im fucked up..)
Im fucked up (Im fucked up...)
Im high as hell (Im high as hell..)
Im high as hell (Im high as hell) yea.

Last but not least, redman would like to say peace
To all the blunt rollers from the tri-state to the middle east
And gimme a blunt when I kick the bucket
Devil or no devil when I am the wrong to be fucked with
So everybody put they blunt up in the air
Take a puff, blow the smoke out like ya just dont care
So..(pump up the volume) ..so its heard thru the next block
Im out, peace to red foxx, Im off to the cess spot...

redman - how to roll a blunt

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