[Verse One] Ayo, I rap for my scraps Rhyme fo' my dimes Spit fo' my grip Write lines for shine Flow fo' my doe Words said for cred My justice is to bust this, nuff said You can find me, in the mid 90's Home, my preferred B.P.M. off the dome In Manhattan streets, my young feet roam In years I released my most cla**ic poems My M.P.H. on the turnpike's slowin' The average test score when the transcripts shown The name's got fame but the game's unknown I inspire many but I have no clones I'm born the cipher known as the true school At least that's the sound cats say they used to I grew up from does to did to used to So rather than fret I suggest you do too The term's not needed it's already implied Whatever comes out, that's what was inside If life is a beach, my flow's on the wet side So my own foot must get swept by the tide Along with the critics that distort the facts The Monday morning, armchair quarterbacks I could pa**, run through you or catch Rhyme, program with scratch when I score I spike it Why? Cause I feel like it [Verse Two] (You J how you feel?) I feel like I'm the sh** I know no other way to say it Now wait a minute If that was true, you wouldn't play it So many ways, so many days to display it On the mic or on the tables I'mma forte it You can't f** with it, you can't even foreplay it There ain't an actor that can accurately portray it There ain't an artist that could even sketch a portrait I like this, to resemble what you like in this There's nothin' like this Nothin' as this No simile No metaphor Wait! Silly me, yes meteor fly through the sky Light up your life Make a wish, f** that, make a wish come true Come true on the mic till the light shine through Come to a show, stand where ever you want to One, two Not a square inch in the place outta reach To the speech, mic or not I accapel (damn) You're listenin' to what I'm sayin' You know how I can tell? It's written on your face Screamin' "J you put a spell You know Live can tell a story and still rock it well." And if not, you didn't hear me sayin' "go to Hell" I got a rocket in my pocket you can Akinyel I'm goin' public this year, I know my stock will sell f** sink or swim son, I know my ship will sail Justice will prevail with a story to tell C'mon [Verse Three] Born in Harlem, raised to Globetrot Will I be without BK? I know not So I rep for the whole New York, I go to spots You can tell by the way that I talk, it had a lot To do with how I package my gift My whole presence is wrapped in the New York Times and God lessons Hard like paper mache and the headlines say "Young boy makes good, each and every day" Each and every way, I'mma show and prove Over hip hop grooves Makin' hip hop moves I go from city to city Back yard to yard Been around the world and I, I god Spread culture thick through lyrics Never outdated Often translated Praise due and gain through dap and anecdotes On how these quotes became the antidote For a surplus of ignorance and deficit I hope I reverse the polarity for the sake of clarity Cause it don't stop till I stop and won't stop I say that with the confidence I write with (why?) Cause I feel like it