The Sheppard

This is Prime I got a story to tell, so listen It's about a ??, City of Wind Here lies the son of Chicago, city of wind, a pitiful place Critics talk shit behind his back and grin in his face Theres no visible trace of ?teen? spirit or grace And nobody in town supports anything he creates This shit is hater-ville, it doesn't matter that he's made of skill Or that his beats is bangin, motherfuckers here will hate him still Kids are runnin rampant tryin to recreate the ills Straight killin tradition by dissin all those who try to build He climbed the hills with pride until his mind was filled with certain laws Observe the flaws in thinking with an inkling to reverse the cause He's heard them all and finds that it's hard to teach Then she replied ?believe? i'm fine and target it beyond the reach An artist speaks, silence overwhelms the crowd They hated him before, now they're hoping he can help'em out Forget about his previous plights, and see the signs Cause he is the beacon of lights and he is prime It ain't about style It ain't about rhymes It ain't about skills And it ain't about lines It's all about life, maybe you'll see it in time And then stop hatin on because I'm speakin my mind It ain't about style It ain't about rhymes It ain't about skills And it ain't about lines It's all about life, maybe you'll see it in time And then you'll stop hatin on because I'm speakin my mind It's over now, see I got a little bit older now It's time to play my part and represent this molemen hold it down I didn't wanna lead the flock, I was happy on the streets and blocks Corner cypherin, receivin props I used battlin so I could sharpen my blade So often, that it made me ruthless and they stated to hate Around that time I just recorded a tape, Mind over Madness Put some of my niggas on it, this shit was timed like I planned it I made out like a bandit, because nobody was doin this Except for my man pug cause everybody was new to it We used to get treated in the greatest regard I met a lot of heads and took a stab at makin a spark Scam artists rest in peace, yep I was the one who started it I took some known names and I chose to make them a part of it Qwel, Verbal, and ?bust?, by chance you might have heard of them They figured out the hustle, guess who the fuck they learned it from It ain't about style It ain't about rhymes It ain't about skills And it ain't about lines It's all about life, maybe you'll see it in time And then stop hatin on because I'm speakin my mind It ain't about style It ain't about rhymes It ain't about skills And it ain't about lines It's all about life, maybe you'll see it in time And then you'll stop hatin on because I'm speakin my mind This motherfuckers has got me stressed out Surveyin the landscape that I've stretched out I wonder if the path I've chosen to walks the best route Feelin left out with the rain poundin my brain Without any shade, no matter, moves gotta be made The city I'm livin in is simply crawlin with hate The same kids who turned they back was eatin off of my plate They just reminded me, it's time to eat, so finally It's time for me to find a need to be the scriber with designer beats To shine you need more than just sheer talent and confidence Like heart and wit, mixed with soul to be a part of this The ?words? I spit, reveal nothing more than a tortured man With nothing to lose, I'm warning you not to force his hand I'm takin no ?shorts?, I stand for what I believe in Pullin wool from you eyes, and pullin wolves out of sheeps skin Each minute I'm livin is given to all who listen to The lyrics, the spirits, the art, it's part of the ritual It ain't about style It ain't about rhymes It ain't about skills And it ain't about lines It's all about life, maybe you'll see it in time And then stop hatin on because I'm speakin my mind It ain't about style It ain't about rhymes It ain't about skills And it ain't about lines It's all about life, maybe you'll see it in time And then you'll stop hatin on because I'm speakin my mind