Spose - 2002 lyrics

Chorus: Spose I heard an emcee this morning that made me wanna get in the booth And no offense to him or his crew but I know that I'm better than that dude So what I gotta do to get his spot in hip-hop and my video on MTV2 I know it can't be the sk**s cause mine have been ill since 2002 Verse 1: Spose Too many Facebook rappers to unlike This blank sheet of paper is the sh** they've done right Whilst Peter been beating the beat up repeatedly leaving the body in Peabody seemingly nobody noticed I figured I'd take it and make it the focus I'm the lord grand chancellor Backwoods ramble Rap career canceler, bumping Fiona Apple I'm the weird beard grower A ghost, a feared flower A myth, a gift shower I been sipping on a Snapple in the cypher You can find me I'm the wildest geek My a**ignment has been rhyming been aligned to the beat My bud kind but I'm violent when I'm rhyming delete All pretenders who enter cause my potential's elite He's always stressing excellent when blessing a show My investments are destined to double bubble and grow So, yes, in the flesh, the man, the mess, Spose Who can still flow fresher than dressers of clean clothes Oh, you getting to know the name I came to spell I'm underground yeah I came from Wells So watch me play the ba** line on a belt your favorite rapper just used so he could hang himself "But it's all good, Spose!" No it ain't so swell Cause I'm back down to Earth like some angels fell Cause I popped up on the chart with some stained lapels And then I disappeared faster than Dave Chappelle Poof [Chorus] Verse 2: Spose I been struggling rhyming like weed made of iron that's how hard Ive been grinding Been neglecting a**ignments, dreaming of islands But not recouping, beat looping with the droopiest eye lids My ups and downs have both been critical My free time is infinitesimal Inside my ride, driving to the gig, whipping it, kicking it, ducking the piglets, fine rhymes kid There must be a connect I can't find him yet Don't want a private jet just rhyming checks Hey you'll never find Ryan crying with the blues like sirens Bro this is no sob story Even though they're hating in their verses, I don't want sympathy this is a statement of purpose: I will out work every motherf**er alive and those who don't f** their moms, too Yo, I got callouses that will amount to palaces an*lysis is cats is on my phallace, put em up I sip McCallan talented vow to you no medallions, challenge it till paralysis, dude: put em up If you're playing Call of Duty chilling watching television and you wonder why you're going under, shut the f** up But, if you never relent like you only loan Things out once, then guess what: your day gon come [Chorus] Ryan Seacrest: Some people are saying that this guy might be the next big rap star, and he's a white dude from Maine. His real name is Ryan Peters but he goes by "Spose." We need him to work some hip-hop into Bangor