Tha Message, Part I

As I choke on my flows I try to reach for the skies I'm touching my toes... I'm so confused In this industry full of lames Who claim to pay their dues It's only just a few that really do See, you don't really have a clue What it takes to make it here do you? Blood spill in the streets, kids banging 'Soo-Woo' So the top of the food chain is young black males With tattoos, tools, gunshot wounds and crack rock scales Glamorizing the real... I guess ain't nothing wrong with that 'Till a mother see her son open-lunged Little brother only seven, why he gotta tote a gun? We surviving, but you think this shit is fun? Nigga please... You just a body made of ignorance So your blood runs cold enough to chill a fish on a grill Heart made of stone; Miners couldn't drill through your veins made of pain and your skin made of sin So when income comes, then the end comes We begin at the the top of the mountain My brothers climb My head on my shoulders backwards I run my race from behind I guess that's why I'm behind; Chatting with Father Time But disowned by Mother Nature So fuck her -- don't need no savior I can't even tell the difference Specifically, from the women who've been with me To the critics who fill my vision with anger It's lividly on my brain so I'm just trying not to make a mess when I spill my soul on my paper Feeling of hate, no love lost though... My heart is a lock; don't want to break it And even thought it's seizing my soul, I don't want to shake it I'm motivated my anger, cause I don't want to waste it I'm cultivated by changes... Dominated by anus I'm devastated by pain but I'm radiated by danger Educated by labor and elevated through haters I'm aggravated by Satan, somebody's testing patience... It must be these niggas acting like bitches, It must be That's why I keep it real, so niggas can trust me Niggas throwing up my name, all they do is discuss me So I throw up on beats, cause niggas disgust me Screaming, Fuck Me? Fuck I? Fuck you nigga! I keep it realer than all of you booty loose niggas! They just mad cause the flow hotter than goose mittens They just mad cause the flow hotter than soup kitchens Stool pigeons, Two centers; put your two cents in The way you talk -- stupid, it's like your tooth's missing You fake G's play macho I'm headed for the top floor nigga So don't worry about what I know My hometown: Southside Chicago nigga What's up?