[Intro]
Maintain. Yeah. That's a lot better. Sounds good
[Verse One]
Yo
They say I made it to the decks but I can't line the parties
The fans think I'm dead but they can't find the body
My name through the crevice is slick
Deeper than underground
Fame can envelop your shit and kill your under style
My stomach growl like ghosts around exploding sounds
Rip the verses down till you curse my birthing town
You know those cats, used to rap
Several years or more
Sayin' they back
You didn't know they were here before
Fame is the fable
The game with a label
Explosive potential
Time bomb, auto disable
This rap music
There's a bap to it
I got a knack foolish
You'll be on my rap toothpick
I'm still in the cut
In the audio vibe
Still ahead of my time
Born in 4005
Still according to Blige
Answer all of your cries
Speakin', I get treated like a desert water supply
It's Rise
[Hook]
It's not it used to, things change
I might start producing then sing
If I got my boots and my brain
And I got my heart, I maintain
It's not it used to, things change
If you think this music's insane
If you got your boots and your brain
And you got your heart, you maintain
[Verse Two]
I rap right, act like
Like I don't wanna be lords
Since last night, I don't like nobody no more
Nothing happened, I just thought about it
You know I'm rash
It's all over my music
Every track has a scratch
I'm painting pictures
You drawing with sticks
Like the pig that build with bricks
Said "Blow me you prick" (huff and puff)
Only my shit
Is totally sick
Hip hop is cursed
And she'll wake up by only my kiss
I'm the best in the history of being
So I'm detested by everybody breathing
I think that I'm the man
I think therefore I am
You link between the ape and us the modern man
Crafted like a sword that's forged by Hanzo's hands
Locked into a stone
The king of Arthur's land
I write/right till nothing's left
I fight till huffing breath
My light makes you go deaf
Now write my fuckin' check
It's Rise
[Hook]
[Verse Three]
Cause my brainstorm, Hell flakes
The pawn at the stalemate
The crowd full of pale face and jail baits and dread locks
I think the dead watch
The kid's lost the dead cop is
Probably swingin' ghost arms through us as we're walkin'
Talkin' never listen
"Caution a musician"
Was on my tag when the stork dropped me in the prison
Stop me or listen
You'll have to pick the latter choice
Like when I had to choose
For huge privates or a fatter voice
I get the itis from rappers I eat
Somebody tell me what's in this turkey that puts me to sleep
It comes out rude
I guess it's in my instinct
Size up the world
Checkin' how a ? blinks
Whip it in shape
Conditioning shoes
A lie is so polite, the truth is so rude
The youth is so glued
We don't know what solution to use
What can you do
When parents they might shoot you then sue
Maintain
[Scratches]
"Though we maintain the focus and hold the fort down"
-Group Home