"You Can Be A Rapper"

(verse one)

Welcome to class, a session in rap your first lesson,
Keep them guessing with a little proper use of deception,

some misplaced aggression makes for a great impression,
In innocence, your designed to stop the our peoples progression;

keeping your fans in a fog and their minds deprived,
lacking any true substance to feed this age,

You a plague against an movement fronting on stage,
and display a different image of what you really portray

and lead him astray with every wicked word we say,
as long as you can pull it off. hey! It's ok!

Selling your soul for millions wit no lost of sleep,
but selling your priceless soul has turned your thoughts so cheap;

The cycle repeats and cheats to continue the squeal,
I rock mic wit the ability too my feed my people

How we equal? trading there souls to eat,
we MC's accountable for every word we speak,

(verse 2)
They screw face soon as i waltz in the room,
mad at me like i was the cause and faults for their wounds;

emotionally consumed with my every move ,
cause me with this mic is their impending doom;

and nooooo, not eluding, rapping Rasputin,
talk guns clearly you see they not shooting;

No distribution of drugs just illusions,
keeping the youth in a state of mass confusing;

they more like polluting, start the re-booting,
the words of these Rappers are just not computing;

let's start recruiting, MC's out the ruins,
forgive them lord, they know not what they doing;

cartoon characters is what they best compare,
hard rocks in skinny jeans giving extra stares;

they so comical colorful wit that extra flare,
no longer actors now their in the directors chair;

(verse 3)
I speak Enough to feed the sheep, asleep metropolis
Your words are topic-less writing to usher the Apocalypse

See you write and convince them that heaven is hell,
breaking their spirit and hope like an inmate in jail;

Like Casting a spell magicians satanic rotten from hell,
dwelling with a foul smell, blackened soul for sell;

It ain't hard to tell, you lack the food to excel,
your words are stale and your flow is decrepit and frail;

you can't feed the spirit correctly, have the mind fail,
So my words bring sight to the blind like reading braille.

waiting to exhale, like an MC,spitting,
that's the difference my words breathe life and into existence

Your master physician to help you escape this prison,
shift your position, bring your dreams into fruition;

And fill in the blanks to instill and help u build,
I'm an MC my words won't get you killed, but a rappers will;