Interlude

Intro: On the southside. Ha gon get down with that get down let me spit rounds This is how that shit sounds check it out ch'all. Ha It's the, metaphysicals some say the score the revolution therefore I have come, a calm before the storm Words are born formed drawn in the brain Sorn scorn by the pourin' rain But I can stand it seldom do I feel stranded Granded I stand with the style that is free I'm the Mandela ask Nelson brothers love me I lay it lovely I'm ugly bogus on the mic I strike like a teacher rappers are line Stand in line with they signs tryin' to picket They pick it the way I kick it Cause with it I'm not wicked cause that's malignant I use my figments which is vivid And give it to ya baby like love without no limit I have no limits no gimmicks no image don't mimick I'm finished no minutes to be timid Which shit stick should I spit with? I'm the nitwit that shit sick I stick with and kick with The crew I clique with that's who I sit witha and trip with And sip with the buds are lifted and gold digified And hit without equipment I've often been depicted On the solid when it likwit Yo this is shit is for my man Honda