Castle points you too   You're black takes on C4   Then white could C4      I must put in time to get mine, many hours to earn power   Like the ashy hand, he should wear only the rope flower   I can't be a broke nigga, better in showers   Sellin' CD's on the corner of Sunset and Dower      A small fry nigga in a baked potato world   Sizzling in some beef full of grease like jheri curls   Shout out to DJ's who kept it real   Shook a few in the thou', but some never broke the seal      Fuck them, I stick to college radios, mix shows   Historic university to freestyle sick flows   Might give a lecture about your rap texture   M.C. B-Boy, DJ, slash director      The name was a bell that rang through the hall   Popular is the tag in the bathroom stall, check it   This language is so captivating   When we lose a rap nigga, the news is devastating      Whether to the prison or grave, you know this rap shit   Is built from the strength of those to hunger the crave   My Clan got rhymes for days to be skilled, it pays   Most of them can't escape the solar rays      Name a crew that can stop the force that I strike with   Let alone try to hold the pen that I write with   You can even chop off my fingers I type with   Those I hold a mic with, thinking I might quit      They didn't know, that only makes me more determined   Ich lebe fur hip hop, you can ask the Germans   Some say I never got this for recognition   So I drop another, they shocked and still listen      P