Once again, a result of my original intention to make a mixtape themed as my version of Jay-Z‘s legendary In My Lifetime Volume 1 album. This track was apart of the back to back series of 3 mixtapes that I wrote between the fall of 2005 and January 2006, including both How To Make A Mixtape volumes, and Westside Til I Die. When it was slated for In My Lifetime, before it turned into How To Make A Mixtape vol. 1, this was the lead off track. And much like Jay-Z’s use of it as his lead off track, my version is filled with bravado. I decided to take it for much longer than he did and make it into one long verse to make my introductory statement. The punchlines are filled with 2006-ish references and New York-centric talk that would have worked so well in the midst of the Mixtape blitz that was flooding the market back then. Hence the Kay Slay mention. When the idea to revisit my original Crazy 8′s mixtape around it’s anniversary and add 8 more tracks to it came to me, I surveyed what material I had laying around. After recognizing how many Jay-Z instrumentals got used for How To Make A Mixtape volume 1, I just decided that this one would be more fitting as one of the new 8 tracks for the Crazy 8′s Deluxe version. And even more fitting, it’s the lead off track for that bunch.
So here it go…
“It’s not a big debate – cause all the weapons ya’ll claim,
reflect on ya’ll frame,
It ain’t that I’ve been hatin’ – I just reckon ya’ll lame!
It’s not the kind of gauge behind the tech – it’s ya’ll aim,
You 6-shot niggas disrespectin’ my name!
But what more can I say?
You got songs,
but we all can’t get on Kay Slay.
And all these rappers get it wrong with them songs they say,
It’s like these niggas gettin’ forced into the roles they play,
and then they really start endorsin’, when they know they’re fake,
with that coka, they Al Roker…
Couldn’t hold that weight.
But hold that – Wait!
I can do you one better,
got a Al Roker line – I’m about to predict weather…
Whether you die or live, cause if you think you’re kinda sick,
once you lie inside a ditch,
you’ll really be under the weather.
Your forecast reads that I’m the shit! Flush better,
before I let the silencer sneeze, God Bless ya!
Gesundheit, good night,
with that cheddar – I’m like Kraft, and my craft is only,
cause a million mufuckas got the same as you got!
The language you talk is chump change – Chump, change up your flow!
Maybe then, you’ll get a million sold.
My acapella shit is cold,
so you fellas better roll,
like in-line skaters,
keep this in mind haters;
You can chill or stand watch as,
I fill your man’s heart with,
a heavier feeling than the Million Man March did.
Til his chest is out like Dolly Parton,
pardon the blood and guts,
but that’s really all that brothers want.
And I should be the guy to try and lift my brothers up – but why?
The truth is I don’t really give a motherfuck!
So I chick-chick blam ‘em and kill ‘em off,
and pick which hand I’mma use to flick ‘em off.
Then I flip the kickstand up and willie on,
you’ll get dropped quicker than Def Jam did Milian.
-Call me 16 million dollar man,
dollar man, really ya’ll…
I break the glass ceiling til it falls – have you healing scars for months,
peeling like dutches – I’m so Blunt!
So uhh…Don’t front,
you know I gotcha Opin – damn it closed,
You’re overly exposed like hammertoes.
So fuck the haters – they get choked up,
not (from) emotions, but from hands-on-throat!
And yeah, that broke Hammer flow,
will get you nowhere but broke and alone,
so get whatever helps you provoke – grams or blow,
or be lookin’ like a dick, like Joe Camel‘s nose!
Oh, and it goes…
Remind my church people to pray on, like ‘say grace’,
then I find some church people to prey on, like say Mase…
(And) If I fuck the same girl you just ate,
that’s the only way that you can say that you got the, same taste…
Your murder rap’s written in crayon,
you ain’t thug potential,
nigga you color pencil,
til’ I erase!
Cause you ain’t seen the pain of slaughtered brothers,
you just finger-painted and water-colored – you’re good with your art!
But you’re bloodsucking off the hood, pa,
so you should,
push that last album that went wood,
thru your heart!
You vampire niggas spend alot,
on them lies you make,
but turn the tide and they confidin’ in jake.
These niggas can’t bear the grind so they hibernate,
keep the CareBears in mind – niggas shine then shake.
Writin’ rhymes by the fire-escape,
with window-guards, til they start, thinking they’re Shyne behind them gates!
But that’s not quite the case,
cause if you turn around you’ll find them same guys at the gay pride parade.
And that’s about all that I can take,
so I just chase Banks,
like I’m in a Tyra race.
So I’ll, tell you the difference between me and them,
I’m counting up these 1′s,
til I’m seeing M’s
Hope you learned something…
Click the Pic of the cover below to listen to and download this track
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