Braggin' Writes Revisited

[J-Live] For underground metaphors You can scrape an inch below the turf, for what it's worth My style's been developed in the core of the Earth The exhale's volcanic, the inhale is seismic So brothers just panic when the Live one arrives with The natural ability to run through your crew From 2-1-4 to 2-1-3 to 2-1-2 In other words, from Dallas, to L.A., to the place where J stay Everyday is mayday So you can talk your shit on how you're wettin MC's With mad blood stains but I'll bet you can't stand the rain I'm lookin' on your brain with disdain Go back and reflect on my endeavors black I can't complain It's like a raw deal, consistant with the way I make you feel The ends stay revealed but the means I conceal And those who try to steal get decapitated You wanna snatch my H2O type flow, but it evaporated I displays my credentials over instrumentals And my potential, increases at a rate that's exponential It's detremental fuckin' with my thesis The penetration's exact, like amniocentesis I rip your shit to pieces after drainin out your fluid My vocab is fluent yours is evident of being truant I know you wanna make moves but son you best to take a second look Before my knight takes your rook [Hook] Cause everybody rappin, and only few can flow So why the hell they tryin to deal with Live I don't know I handle true MC's on their block or at their show So if you come with bull kid, keep it on the low [J-Live] Cause yo, I got the hairsplittin, self-written unbitten style That leaves the competition running scared and shakin in their pants You best to set it off cause black it ain't no second chance Once I'm open, all you doin is hopin that the Live one Will put the mic down, but son don't try to snatch it after The laughter won't cease from the comparison, how dare you son Step around the booth when I'm on The microphone magician says poof, you're gone with the wind - (Background: "The Best Part, is brought to you by the letters: J, L, I, V, and E") - There's no trace of your friends cause you don't know where the Beginning ends or where the end begins But you see that's the difference, you get sold, I get paid Black I told you, get played If you're broke I'll have to rain on your parade You belong in Special Ed if you think you got it made J-Live with the mic is like the chef with the blade Cause suckers get sliced and sauteed Yeah, you thought your shit was fly but the flight was delayed Because [Hook: repeat 2x] [J-Live] Cause yo, I take the grey matter of pretenders Through my mental blender, and then return to sender My pen don't pretend to offend I intend to render MC's, hangin loose like a fender bender I recommend regardless of your gender That you strike fuckin' with J-Live from your agenda And remember that whoever lends a helpin hand to defend ya Will get burned to a cinder As I end the, reign of wack MC's with their suicidal tendencies Renderin me sick, with the thoughts of killin enemies But then I return to reality Metaphorically murderin MC's when they battle me You can't rattle me I'm not your average snake slitherin through the grass I surpass the serpent as I head to class You consider me crass as I wax that ass, style's no joke But you best belive I gets the last laugh