Stuff that, I preach this, my rhyme reaches Lines of sweetness like Psalm 1-1-9 speaketh A child genius, who’s not mischievous, more +Great+ than +Portland Street+ is My autism powers, turn thorns to flowers On the hour, I give them the news, they get the blues Then the rhythm they lose, along with their cool, like Lupe when he’s rude Like Big, they have a Pop at me for telling the truth And pass it off as crude, like oil contaminating oceans So deep is the notion, compare it to the sea all while seeing me breeze with a motion smooth as lotion while I turn the cheek to those ones morally perfect A fickle cripple with a holy purpose that’s certain like probability, chances are if I’m this worthless A house up on His grounds I might earn it which is worth it, like L’Oréal; while guv’nors wanna take my hair and jerk it I’m too concerned with staring at the firmament
Pure genius in musical production from DJ Premier. I love the way that he scratches vocal samples. I believe that it’s the late Prodigy’s vocals from a Mobb Deep track. Rest In Power Prodigy 👊🏾
