Late 808

She yelling that selling a sin

Well, so is telling young men that selling is a sin

If you don’t offer new ways to win

Wake up to the mathematics of an erratic rap

Rejuvenator of rhyme, that sort of come automatic

Poetical medical medicine for the cerebellum

I divert em and flirt em insert em then I repel em

A breakdown, poetical shakedown

Fifty-two pick-up a stick-up so get on the floor facedown

The ammo to keep the people steppin

Breaking open the vault because I’m like a verbal assault weapon

Ah, you just came home from doin’ a bid

Tell me whatcha gon’ do? act a fool

Somebody broke in and cleaned out your crib

Boy whatcha gon’ do? act a fool

Just bought a new pair and they scuffed your shoes

Tell me whatcha gon’ do? act a fool

Now them cops tryna throw you in them county blues

Boy whatcha gon’ do? act a fool

My name is Lyte is your name Sam?

Cause if it is step off, grab your coat and get lost

Wrap your scarf around your throat and go back and catch a rope

And hit the road Sam, don’t you come back

No more, no more, no more, no more

Hit the road Sam, don’t you come back no more

Flower bomb, let me guess your favorite fragrance

And you got that bomb, huh, I’m tryna detonate you

No disrespecting baby, just tryna make you smile

Try to keep my spirits up, that’s why I lays it down

I was patient, yeah, oh

I was patient, aye, oh

Now I can scream that we made it

Now everyone, everywhere I go, they say ‘gratulations

I know you want this for life

Bitch I’m back out my coma

Waking up on your sofa

When I park my Range Rover

Slightly scratch your Corolla

Okay, I smashed your Corolla

I’m hanging on a hangover

Five years we been over

Ask me why I came over

One more hit and I can own ya

Yeah, live through the strugglin’, life’s a every day hustle

I’ve been nice since n….. got killed over 8-ball jackets

And Reebok Pumps that didn’t do shit for the sneaker

I’m a heatseaker with features

That’ll reach through the speaker

And murder counter-revolutionaries personally

I’m bikin’ uphill and it’s burnin’ my quads

I’m bikin’ downhill and it sound like a fishin’ rod

You don’t like the way I flow? “She needs more emotion” no

I’ll give you emotion, it’s you, holding your broken nose

I’ll leave you comatose with a pound of Colombian snow

At your side so when the cops arrive, they’ll just say you overdosed

I’m flyin’ high on a rocket in the sky

Milk is chillin, Giz is chillin

What more can I say? Top billin’

Guess who

The illest MC in the atmosphere

Yeah the Soul Controller

Who roam the frontier like a Buffalo Soldier

I follow the code of honor like a real man gonna

Never disrespect no women cause I love my momma

I got so much funky shit inside my brain

I couldn’t explain, couldn’t explain

You wouldn’t understand, I couldn’t explain

Now Com could get the penny, but I want my own company

And Com is on a mission not to work for commission

It’s a common market and it’s so much competition

But to me, competition is none

If this was ’88, I would have signed to Ruthless

Nine-four, would’ve had them walking down Death Row

First is when the best go, hate is what the rest do

Voice inside my head told me, “Wet ’em if they test you”

So it’s Raging Waters season

That yomper big as Larry Johnson, leave your momma seedless

Everybody hard until it’s only God they seeing

Kittens soft but in they songs be trapping hard as Jeezy, I don’t believe it

But, I kept your number in my old phone

Got a new chip flip with the roam roam

So it took me a minute to retrieve 7 digits

But I promised I would call you when I got home

But, when I got home I never did

By the time I did, heard that you had a kid

By some nigga in Decatur

Who replied ‘See you later’ when he got the good news

That’s life shit

I used to watch the show “I Dream of Jeannie”

And dreamt about “When will I be large like Whodini?”

But I was messin’ with graffiti on the subway

And getting chased by the cops almost everyday

I knew it had to be a better way see

So I would go to my room, blast RUN DMC

Super Nintendo, Sega Genesis

When I was dead broke, man I couldn’t picture this

Will your name hold weight when the curtains close?

I never sleep cause sleep is the cousin of death

Manhattan keeps on makin it, brooklyn keeps on takin it

Bronx keeps creatin it, and queens keeps on fakin it

Why your eyes like dat?

I take 7 emcees put ’em in a line

And add 7 more brothers who think they can rhyme

Well, it’ll take 7 more before I go for mine

Now that’s 21 emcees ate up at the same time

We got a real jam goin down, welcome to the Space Jam

My left stroke just went viral

Right stroke put lil’ baby in a spiral

Soprano C, we like to keep it on a high note

Beyond clean, in phenom jeans

Little rap Isaac Asimov

I let my momma in the rhyming that she raised me off

A 80s baby on fire like a safety off

From getting lynched in field into owning buildings

Getting millions, influencing white children

And oddly we still ain’t even

Still a small percentage of blacks that’s eating

I know she wanna be poppin’ all over the ‘Gram

When the cameras come out, wanna hold my hand

Must be out of your mind, do you know who I am?

Man you’re killin’ my vibe, do you know who I am?

There’s good and evil in each individual fire

Identifies needs and feeds our desire

As long as we keep our spirit inspired

She can bite her bottom lip all she wants

Through every dark night, there’s a bright day after that

So no matter how hard it get

Stick your chest out, keep your head up, and handle it!

Visions of Martin Luther staring at me

Malcolm X put a hex on my future someone catch me

I’m falling victim to a revolutionary song

The Serengeti’s cloned

Back to put you backstabbers back on your spinal bone

I know that everything that glitters ain’t gold

I know the shits not always good as it seems

But tell me till you get it how could you know

How could you know? How could you know?