Be Cool...
because I'm to hot to touch...
cruise down...sit back...cool out and puff...
to groove...moon roof...blew out the dutch...
you knew who do move crowds and such...
Curt...and he's back in the mix...
with a new track for the kids...
to pump when they asking for hits...
or feeling heated and such...
this the kind joint you wanna feed to your speakers and truck...
sneakers or pumps...timbs or flip flops...
we get a rush listening to hip-hop...
if and infact the wisdom given is slack...
keep your reciept and start giving it back...
to someone who's really living his raps...
these are the rules that a cat states...
trying to prove that a fool never has faith...
until the beat captures his heart...match and a spark...
being cool...I've mastered the art...
Be Cool...
like you cryogenically frozen...
hustle & flow...yes I epitomie both when...
I am given a task to...
spit crack lyrically then fit it in capsules...
feeling I have to...
address my position...
that living for the regression of flesh is my mission...
atleast till nothing left just the spirit...
I'm tested,forgiven...
and shown that I'm blessed with the vision...
to convey thoughts on nice beats...
or even portey parts of my dreams...
what I say marks precedence...
my main parts stay sharp like a blade marked
or a long sedative...
and still I maintain all relevence...
that a head nod...
remains the greatest of all evidence...
that what I'm speaking is reaching the minds...
1 sceme at a time...reassuring the street I'm alive...
so be cool...
Be Cool...
become one with the flow...
let my lyrics paddle the sound waves...
each stanza -a stroke...
bringing man ever closer to apex...
before the reaper is calling his name next......
maybe the same text...that I'm using will save him...
from being another pitiful looking laymen...
trapped in the manogomy...of rocking beats...
without any innovation...just the monotony...
holding his mind in the trenches...
this track is backed by a divine intervention...
with each line of a sentence...spitting life in...
definitive sides of light split infinite times twice inside of a prism
basically -theres no stopping when I get a rythem...
unless...I let the heat from my scripts speak...
sick speech slips deep sending milifluous hits...-be...cool
