Lyrical Poison
From A Tribe Called Quest to Zion I,
penetrated my ears with sweet melodies and curable cyanide within urban eyes.
Music you could relate to,
like eye candy for the ears that shed tears from unholy piers.
Came up with theories on how Tupac and Biggie were murdered along with hip hop,
the time when people chose sides and peacemakers said “Stop!”
Who the hell is Cash Money Records and Lil Wayne?
His raps are wack, all he wants is fame.
Might as well blast Wu Tang Clan and get burned by the fire they be spittin’ like a flame.
You say on to the next one like Jay Z,
while I’m still hypnotized by the Notorious B.I.G.
You come up to me saying you the best like Drake,
I’m over here asking what’s on your mind like Eric B. and Rakim on their mixtape.
You wanna start jerking with the New Boys,
forget it and learn the Funky Charleston with Kid N Play on Monday.
While he was killing you softly with his song since Lauryn Hill mentioned,
you stayed unfaithful like Rihanna to Chris Brown ‘till he went to prison.
I remember the only latin rap I accepted was Cypress Hill.
Pit Bull’s gonna end up paying for his hotel room bill.
These posers these days need to check out reality,
people are just doing it for the fame, the money.
