Open Book

[Sample from the film Confessions of a Dangerous Mind] Chuck Barris: Hey, I got an idea. If you aren't so bad... why don't you do it? Why don't you kill the mole? You got a problem with killing, Jim? Jim Byrd: I just don't fit the profile [Verse] Watch how it go down, it's hot on the old route There's cops on patrol now, cats in stocking masks And no, not when it's cold out, if I rob and I show out I get the Glock and I roll out, you get shot in your hometown No, not on the low down, throw shots at the whole crowd I'm not gonna slow down for the spot that I hold down But I'm conscious, I know now... my pockets are swole now But I lost it, it goes down, and it's not often I owe thous But money talks and it's so loud, I can hear it As I go from a quap to a whole pound I'm not trusting their resolution, I'm adjusting the resolution Fuck the government revolution, the chambers of my guns do hundreds of revolutions Each bullet spun at your mind, y'all can get it one at a time You next, in front of the line Come see me, the pall-bearer, I talk greasy like a ball bearer I tear 'em up, I'm on my grind like a pair of trucks If you said I'm raw as fuck, okay fair enough I didn't get this sick from sharin' cups, motherfuckers swearin' up You need to grow a pair of nuts You below par son, I been the best from bar one, bar none I am the hardest when rhyming Harder than Harlem, Long Island... I belong in Arkham Asylum I'm a Stone Temple Pilot, my poetry like rose, petals, violets Chrome, metal, violence, my flow? Never mind it Switches up so much that I don't recognize it It's become airborne, hope you don't catch the virus The dro press my eyelids, if po gets behind us Then hide it in your prosthetics, and don't let 'em find it We press albums, you get your clothes pressed with irons Don't like us? protest in silence Been touring all day, you could go check the mileage I'm so pressed for time, we set the whole west on fire Want some rhymes, then? Memorize mine then Guarantee you will be mesmerized by them These guys got a feminine side inside them I spit 9/11 times ten, Inception mind bend I weaponize my pen, but my weapon's my friend We attached at the hip, we connected like twins Making trap in this wild game is like trapping some wild game If you harass me or violate, you asking to die in vain Try it mane, try to take it back... try some Lidocaine with that Deny the shame, try to blame gangsta rap Cops think they razorback boars But they really pigs, I put a blade in that pork Yeah, then eat it off the plate with my fork and see you later at court Judge a book by a cover... you should be looking for cover If you the paperback sort My life's a open book: hardback Entitled, "We Ain't Comfortable If We Aren't Strapped" I spit a hundred bars every day, where's your bars at? I swear, I could go all damn day So when I end this song, it's only for my fans' sake [Sample from the film Confessions of a Dangerous Mind] Chuck Barris: What fucking profile? There is no fucking profile Jim Byrd: Okay, there's no profile Chuck Barris: Yeah, there's no profile Jim Byrd: Okay Jim Byrd: Your father, the dentist? Not really your father. Your real father was a man named Edmund James Windsor. Among other things, he was a serial killer