Trouble Man - Intellectual

[Produced by Chris Liggio & Juggaknots]

[Hook: Kid Hood sample, scratched by DJ Eskimo]

“Sick-ass brother, nasty-ass nigga”

[Verse 1: Buddy Slim]

I declare war—the jaw becomes a rapid-fire weapon

If you’re stepping when you tries to get mine behind enemy lines

You become a sitting duck, well fuck

I ain’t giving ‘em, I’m living trifle

The pen and pad becomes a 12-gauge rifle

This ain't no laughing matter

Step into this, you step in a minefield, your body scatters

Your people try picking up the pieces

But only corny niggas

The attack from a brother like the Buddy never ceases

Without a moment of silence, the violence thickens

So if you ain’t got it together, you’re slim pickings

Shorts and prisoners are never taken

If you’re faking, all the booty competition I’ma bag

Fuck a white flag

Get down and dirty like a brother in the trench

And leave a nigga dead and stinking as he wonder where the stench is

I’m busting clip after clip

My artillery of funk on a punk when you wanna test my shit

[Hook: Kid Hood sample, scratched by DJ Eskimo]

“Sick-ass brother, nasty-ass nigga”

[Verse 2: Breeze Brewin]

Damn it to hell is it, I feel my brain swell like meningitis

With the slightest mind motion, giving me the notion

That I got it bad, I think I got a brain tumor, brain rumor

Such a pain to analyze the strain and then understand it

The seed was planted

That shit is ill, but, still the thought I’m loving got the dome growing

With the biscuit in the oven shoving nothing but the nutrients

My diet to support me—a whiff of the spliff

A guzzle of the forty to inspire fire thought

To the mic, there was marriage

Causing competition, verbal miscarriage

Of the mental fetus; greet us with the rugged rhythm that I’m showing

I think I feel my water breaking, thus I’m flowing

Timing my contractions, concentrating on my breathing

Heaving curses at the father, yes, the funk

'Cause if I flunk, my shit ain’t living

Pushing, giving every bit of what I’m worth

And as the Brewin drops the lyrical, the miracle of birth

[Hook: Kid Hood sample, scratched by DJ Eskimo]

“Sick-ass brother, nasty-ass nigga”

[Verse 3: Buddy Slim]

I be the sick-ass brother, nasty-ass nigga

A phony-motherfucker gravedigger

I know this sounds rough but I had enough to funk

So pardon me, the heart of me

So if you corny, nigga, it’s like clogging up my artery

You cutting circulation, so now it’s do-or-die

Why niggas always trying to test my shit?

Only preservation of the funk is why I kick this

As I give a simple diagnosis of the sickness

[Verse 4: Breeze Brewin]

Now upon the fruits of my labor, your ears feast

The beast from within is some shit, ain’t it?

The picture painted from the use of a noun and a verb

Might disturb—we makes you say, “Damn, that nigga’s crazy”

Well, if we crazed, deranged, well, then we fit in

If you say the world’s a normal place, who the fuck you kidding?

Your mind’s blind if you say you haven’t seen this

As I walk the fine line between insanity and genius

[Hook: Kid Hood sample, scratched by DJ Eskimo]

“Sick-ass brother, nasty-ass nigga”