Alchemist, you know me, man   I'm the type of nigga that write rhymes   Right on the spot in the studio soon as I hear the track   You know what I'm sayin'?      Word, but I wanted to bring a couple of books   To the studio today, man, I found these shits   Up in the crib, man, in boxes, man   I don't even remember when I was writing these shits   Or what's in these shits, man, probably a bunch of bullshit   Fuck it, check it      How can I trust you when I can't trust me?   Picture myself a old man, a O.G.   Some niggas will conversate with liers all day, time pass   Nah, lemme start somethin' else      Soul on ice, death threats given by clowns   I guess livin' is prison when you live around clowns   I'm hexed, cursed, worse I been blessed first   I thought I was abnormal   'Cause I would overcome any task called to      So there it is, I'ma prince, I'ma get slain   Some do minor shit, swear they on the top of they game   Ya rhymin' is called 'Vagina Monologue'   It kinda supports theories of scary niggas   Who should lie in the morgue      Rarely y'all come in contact with the real   Since Pun passed, he was the last shine of sun I could feel   Yo, said, "There's a few left since music's expressions of life"   Damn, I wish I took more time to write in my Book of Rhymes      Oh shit, Tina, been lookin' for this bitch number, damn   No, this rhyme is weak, this is weak   I remember this bullshit, right here   My Book of Rhymes   Gandhi was a, what the fuck?      Gandhi was a fool, nigga, fight to the death   The US Army is a school that teach ya plights of conquest   I wonder when I wrote this, nah it's weak   The money's ya religion, sky's the limit, live life   Numbers is big business, makes the poor live trife      The glimmers of hope provoke those without dollars to dream   Through your existence become wealthy, knowledge is king   Pimps and card, sharks, thiefs, murderers with hard luck   Addicts and fiends, prostitutes passin' for teens is my society   Cops that shoot blacks is routine for notoriety      Grow up watchin' well dressed niggas with charms   Beautiful ladies on their arms   Dangerous new cars was my fantasy for Nas   Rubbin' my lips with Campophenique   Still behind the ears wet, turned out to be pioneer's vets      Amongst hustlers, crack sellers and liers and squares   Nah, that was weak there   My people be projects or jail, never Harvard or Yale   Pardon me, type in my two way while I'm chargin' my cell   It's hard to be iced up with Gucci, God, poverty's real      I can't fight you 'cause you would sue me, niggas be groupies   I see imitators tryin' to make albums spittin' my style   And they don't even realize that I notice they stealin' Nas' shit   I pump some Rick James with that Teena Marie   My Nina lean on me like Swoop, it's crap   This can't be my Book of Rhymes      This can't be my Book of Rhymes, writin' this bullshit!   My Book of Rhymes   Nah, neva that, fuck that, aww, why you laughin' Alchemist?   Huh, you a funny nigga, nah, yeah   My Book of Rhymes      I'm tellin' you, I'ma come up with some new shit now   Fuck that, I'ma write again now, fuck that   I musta been high on some shit   What the fuck is this?      Look, how we treat pregnancy, women in the 'hood   Our values so low, our values are no good   Things our mothers told us, we shoulda heeded   'Cause now we need it, we older, almost able to      I'm jealous of you, how come you so beautiful?   Smelling fresh, youthful, intelligent while I'm stressin' this shit   Aiyo, I envy you 'cause all you do is smile and things come your way   "Such a innocent child", is what some say      I get upset 'cause I just want to be treated the way you are   Like a star, not a worry in this world thus far   But wait a minute, we both need ya mother's attention   I must be crazy, jealous of my own baby infant, kinda crazy