Bless's Thoughts

Straight raw hip hop, make a sick profit

nowadays the industry just pick pocket different wallets

ticked off, certainly hope to get rich off it

it's the Queens new era prophet, the flow is flawless

 

Queens is static, the scenes are graphic

moving through this rap shit like cars lean in traffic

enough of the drama, more raw theatrics

people panic, including me cause the scene is absent

 

Just a semi suburban rapper, don't blast gats

hope that I can make it and get higher than the NASDAQ

averages, crew of savages, homie, past that

never hang around with gangs and bang with da hash rats

 

Views are too much to peep with eyesockets

watch me count rhymes like money, then they'll sky rocket

dreams of jewels, different crews, fly monsters

cause of kicks like pregnant women, dough in my pockets

 

Straight off the scene, not the metal showers

don't brag about cream and throwing tons of lead at cowards

wack emcees, I watch them pedal flowers

then I eat em up like Mac and Cheese, must be packed in factories

 

I be giving papers out the blue like racist cops

we all in the family, so to disses? I ain't taking shots

don't smoke weed, growing grass in vacant lots

blowing glass pipes, record deals, hope to chase the Roc

 

I grew up on Nas, Tribe Called Quest, and Rakim Allah

fake rappers don't meet the standards, attend bars like seminars

straight outta Queens, Laurelton, Merrick Boulevard

pulling cards, coming out the building like it's full of cars

 

I'm young, black, and middle class, hang without the strap

stop the stereotypes, and quit trying to doubt the facts

I'm out this world, marching through, right out Saturn and Mars

man the rhyming is exquisite, check the patterns of bars