LYRICS
Because I do believe in folklores, because a folk or a
folk whore messed up his world
with a word or more
so furthermore call her life
with a slice of love for the
wife the hip hop drop top
so drop her top and her bottom 4 lines to make love to her
vibes jus 1 more time
and in the morning make love
pressed against her lips so when i woke the mic replaced her finger tips
sippin up a few sips more
so wen she spoke beats hit the floor
and wen the tears splashed synthesized cries for the emcees who died
word to paradox emotion took off like flies
so please forgive the long soliloquy
forgive the silly mannerisms here to over power me
to give these silly little rants with these silly little
rapper hands
jaws drop wen i caught her by a glance
to get in line for my chance
as impossible it seems
I still asked her for the last dance
we bowed out in the night sky
when tears dried wen i told her it would be alright
we made rhythm for the vision
we tucked in the curses for the verses
and rehearsed a different version
so we can create the sounds of a virgin
yet to be touched and yet we all know shes never
heard enuf
Shes only seen in my dreams in between
every scene in my bed sheet
pretty feet and foot notes
help remember what i wrote
so when i awoke with a new song
in reality she helps 2 sing along
shes never seen only heard
through headphones alone
over
over saturated party zones
or even speaker phones
or on the t.v. misrepresented now by them or we,
we turned her out, no doubt we turn her up
turn it off when we don't agree with her new song soft
with her touch to my vision and my rough for the ruff draft
I kiss her sound touch her mic for the craft
she made it possible for us to dwell in the same room
and look pass differences that we still resume
so never press pause for the cause
cuz wen the music plays it distracts me to have a good day
i continue to let her disrobe
recount the first time her sound waves passed through my ear lobe
rememberin the first time
wen she let the beat drop to tell
me yes you "quote" the world is mine
her birth is unknown
un-natural clones grown in her place to try to taker her throne
but we the underground lost or found
whether money made or respect gained will never let her get away
pieces ripped from her by the ones who passed away
and their mics buried under tones
and rip rib Lip to producers still bangin beats under grave stones yo f them ringtones