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America's Nightmare; Young, Black, And Don't Give A Fuck
Rap In It's Rawest Form
Song Info
Genre
Charts
Peak #3,338
Peak in subgenre #514
Rights
LukeCwalker
Uploaded
April 07, 2005
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.2 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Lyrics
first i let the beat play, formulate some thoughts
i feel the rhythm move me as its morphin wit my heart
i feel a story comin(yes) the story of my life (nah)
a story bout my rhymes(yea), there's the feelin, here it comes
first a spit a couple bars to get a feel for snare and drums
strictly off the top style like niggaz gettin cutz
this is gon be some ill shit, i could feel it in my gutz
if this track is a race, im gonna leave you in my dust
flow at mach 10, pull about a thousand g's
i make ya ear drums pop wit the sound of C
at top speeds science proves that im in the future
who wouldve thought that id ever be an ill producer
but thats a couple years from now so please dont get it twisted
i didnt say it, my kids grandchildrens kids did
this is a new chapter, i feel im in the best position
introducing archimedes, the rapmatician
ive done it all, writtin many tracks and droppin classics
i found myself in the storm, now i got it mastered
who's the only rappa out that could stop diseases
lukecwalker also known as archimedes
call me arrogant, call me cocky
but you - gotta know that you'll never stop me
so you - better shut ya face or bring ya hottest shit
cuz what im spittin is abusive like a marijuana spliff
just take my raw sound and mix it wit intelligence
and instantly half the music industry's irrelivent
i made it through wit odds stacked higher than sediment rocks
now i got ya bellys in knots
im wit the boys in blue, and no, its never the cops
who spit rhymes that confuse all the medical docs
i wanna rip ya heart out, my friends tellin me not - to
but the only bricks you move is a terrible shot
yet you spit about drugs and all the weapons you got
you aint even legal homey, son you barely a tot
im gonna keep spittin the truth whether you hear me or not
im from hells kitchin, who you think is steering the pot
i aint a prophet, i aint ya average role model
im not that sugar coated bullshit in coke bottles
i dont wear fancy clothes and expensive watches
i dont fiend for the spotlight like dennis rodman
i just spit the real, aint nuthin else to do
i broke the mold...anyone could bend the rules
i got a wicked mind, i was born wit deadly tools
a golden tongue, when i speak even heaven moves
got many different styles, expressed on every track
underground style, see my name on every track
you keep droppin hatin lines but ya words fail
you see me cruisin, bustin grinds on third rails
these aint rain drops kid, cuz im spittin lakes
flood through ya empire faster than the christian faith
nowhere to run so its better that you sit n wait
i sealed ya fate, this is hip-hop in its illest state
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