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Ron Browz

"Book of Rhymes"

[Intro]
Alchemist, you know me, man
I'm the type of n*gga that write rhymes
Right on the spot in the studio soon as I hear the track
You know what I'm sayin'?
Word, but I wanted to bring
A couple of books to the studio today, man
I found these sh*ts up in the crib, man, in boxes, man
I don't even remember when I was writin' these sh*ts
Or what's in these sh*ts, man
Probably a bunch of bullsh*t, man… f*ck it, check it

[Verse 1]
How can I trust you when I can't trust me?
Picture myself a old man, a O.G.
Some n*ggas will conversate with liars all day
Time pass— (Nah, let me start somethin' else)
Soul on ice, death threats given by clowns
I guess livin' is prison when you live around clowns
I'm hexed, cursed, worse I been blessed first
I thought I was abnormal
‘Cause I would overcome any tasked called to
So there it is, I'm a prince, I'm against lames
Who do minor sh*t, swear they on the top of they game
Your rhymin' is called "Vagina Monologue," it kinda supports
Theories of scary n*ggas who should lie in the morgue
Rarely y'all come in contact with the real
Since Pun passed, he was the last shine of sun I could feel
Yo, said there's a few left since music's expressions of life
Damn, I wish I took more time to write in my book of rhymes

[Break]
Oh sh*t, Tina!
I been lookin' for this b*tch number, damn
No, this rhyme is weak
This is weak, I remember this bullsh*t right here
(My book of rhymes)
Gandhi was a… what the f*ck?

[Verse 2]
Gandhi was a fool, n*gga, fight to the death
The US Army is a school that teach you plights of conquest
(I wonder when I wrote this… nah, it's weak)
The money's your religion, sky the limit, live life
Numbers is big business, makes the poor live trife
The glimmers of hope provoke those without dollars to dream
Through your existence become wealthy, knowledge is king
Pimps and card sharks, thiefs, murderers with hard luck
Addicts and fiends prostitutes passin' for teens is my society
Cops that shoot blacks is routine for notoriety
Grow up watchin' well-dressed n*ggas with charms
Beautiful ladies on their arms
Dangerous new cars was my fantasy for Nas
Rubbin' my lips with Campophenique
Still behind the ears wet, turned out to be
Pioneers vets amongst hustlers, crack sellers, and liars and squares
(Nah, that was weak there)
My people be projects or jail, never Harvard or Yale
Pardon me type in my two-way while I'm chargin' my cell
It's hard to be iced up with Gucci, God, poverty's real
I can't fight you, ‘cause you would sue me, n*ggas be groupies
I see imitators tryin' to make albums, spittin' my style
And they don't even realize that I notice they stealin' Nas' sh*t
I pump some Rick James with that Teena Marie
My nina lean on me like Scoob and Scrap
This can't be my book of rhymes

[Break]
This can't be my book of rhymes, writin' this bullsh*t!
(My book of rhymes)
Nah, neva that! f*ck that!
Aw, why you laughin', Alchemist?
Hah, you a funny n*gga...
Naw, yeah (My book of rhymes)
I'm tellin' you, I'ma come up with some new sh*t now
f*ck that! I'ma write again now, f*ck that!
I musta been high on some sh*t… what the f*ck is this?!

[Verse 3]
Look how we treat pregnancy, women in the hood
Our values so low, our values are no good
Things our mothers told us we should've heeded
‘Cause now we need it, we older, almost able t—
I'm jealous of you, how come you so beautiful?
Smellin' fresh, youthful, intelligent, while I'm stressin' and sh*t
Ayo, I envy you ‘cause all you do is smile
And things come your way
Such a innocent child is what some say
I get upset ‘cause I just want to be treated the way you are
Like a star, not a worry in this world thus far
But wait a minute, we both need your mother's attention
I must be crazy, jealous of my own baby infant (Kinda crazy)

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


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