Album: Ritual of The...
[Prime]
Yo, this is Prime
But to tell you cats who the hell I am
So listen up
I know you cats been asking, 'bout to answer that
[Verse 1]
Who's that kid that's rocking head phones on the back of the bus?
Reciting verses loud as fuck, while still tagging shit up
Who's laughing it up, sand paper scratching shit up
Whose making passengers blush when he babbles and busts
It's Prime
These cats that rhyme don't even know what it's like
They got me vexed wanting to test them when they holding the mic
That's why I'm yelling, talking shit and acting so impolite
Battling me you're either throwing the towel, or throwing the fight
I jump of the top of the rope, so stop your approach
Rappers keep trying to be different instead of trying to be dope
Harder then most, choking artists who croak, serving mimics
Setting fire to your notebook while you still writing your verses in it
My words indented, plus they're properly placed
All in your face, gems prices keeps them locked in a safe
Plotting to take the world over with rhyme, controlling your mind
So sit back and behold its P-Prime!
[Hook x2]
I'm unbreakable, you can't make me or break me
And I don't give a fuck, none of you bitch niggas can take me
So when I hear you cats rap I have to resort
To telling kids how it is with a status report
[Verse 2]
Now a days commercial cats are all taking the game
All wearing similar outfits and all walking the same
You just acting for your boys you should all be ashamed
When on a low and all alone your looking awkward and plane
Ya'll 'aint superstars fuck with me and you'll get bruised and scared
Even your beats don't match your just as whack as your producers are
Fronting' yourself like you got a gun on the shelf
Running with wealth, praying you wake up with somebody else
Little fish in a big pond I'm serving all of you toys
You couldn't get five mics on stage with four of your boys
Your whack is a rule, I rap and dismantle your crew
And leaving you guessing what's getting dropped first, your album or you
You've had it you're threw, get crushed by my weakest touch
I spit shit that speaks in volumes, my whispers will make the speakers bust
Trust that prime is chosen with the mic I'm holding
Here's a toast for you going platinum and silence is golden
[Hook x2]
[Verse 3]
Now a days it's just as bad if you're an underground cat
The ??? are mad at this cause all that's coming outs whack
An analyst I have to diss cause half these kids just can't rap
They put on backpacks and label there whack shit as abstract
The other half they carry on about the revolution
I guess doing tours and being vegetarian is desolation
It's retribution when I get in the zone
Shit I spit gets in your dome like rays from cellular phones,
Radiation I lay waiting to strike, so stay hating
As I leave these rappers shook like getting coughed up by an aids patient
I make statements that will fuck with your head
Till your flustered and shaking while your tucked in your bed
Pumping the lead, pencil is the way I diss MC's
Sticks and stones can't break my bones so your words don't mean shit to me
I'm vicious with the live flow, I spit wherever I go
So keep your eyes open from the nigga from Chicago
[Hook x2]
Ya, know what I'm saying
Memo on the beat
Molemen
Scam Artists
Keep an eye out
What!