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My looks wrong, I know I sound oddBut when I hit the mic the first time, I found GodI'm not downtrodden, lack a great bod, and I be looking more like the crowd on Cape CodBut ever since I pumped up my Reeboks, before "Fiddy" and his unit from the G blockI been rhyming in the mirror, blending in, like a diamond in the clear, trying to strut it like a peacockI taught myself how to beat boxWhen I was listening to Jay 5 and Pete Rock2Pac and Chief Rock, you know, that we gotchaChillin' like a meat locker, hotter than some srirachaSip a bitter memory, and make an ugly face as if its nothing but some cheap vodkaJust some fuckin' mind erasersBut I'm from the bay, and we don't spend a dime on chasersAll I wanted to do is write rhymesAll I ever wanted to do is write rhymesAll I ever wanted to do is write rhymes(Huh?) Is that a crime?(What?) To write rhymes?I don't be an economistI don't want to be a cheap novelistI don't want to be a weed or a botanistI don't want to be a pimp or bottom bitchSongtexteI don't want to be a strip club managerAnd I'd hate to be a strip club janitorMopping up for crusty ass customer, bust in their nuts in the cuts IJust wanna bust a verseI don't wanna be a court jesterI don't want to be a royal poison testerI don't wanna pick up dog crap for park and recAnd I don't want to be a doghouse architectI don't want to be a serverI don't want to flip beef burgersBe a beat makerA wal mart greeterA CEO, an astronaut or a fucking sheep herderBut the sad fact is, most real folks don't get don't get to practiceWhat we love for a livingWe do backflipsAnd no matter where we're at on the atlasEarth spins on its axisBack to the rat raceRun the hampster wheelAt a mad paceWe'll run laps till our last daysJust a beast till the last rose petal drops in the glass caseI'm one of a lucky bunchBut I upchuck my free lunch when sucker punchedI'm fucking up, I don't want to free passWhen my ancestors potatoes rotted in the field they would have to eat grassAnd folks put on ski masksWhen their back's against the wall throwing right hooksAnd I just wanna pen verses, write hooksMan I'm such lucky assholeSomeone fucking slap me with my rhymebook Aus Songtexte Mania