Jambox

Well- my- vocal chords are a bit strained from- singing soprano- AND

Making it SKRAIN

Scratch that, nix that that's insane, I never go to strip clubs they're too plain

Boring like mormons, chillin' in the UTAH rather not pay a chick to like this goofball

Rather find a lady, who likes her dudes tall, loves hip-hop and got back like Ru-Paul

Not that one

I'm talkin' bout the one from round my way, it's spelled a lil' different but it sounds the same

And you can talk shit but that would be ashame cuz' I could serve you up like ham and eggs

Hollandaise and english muffin's, ca ll you benedict arnold when you get to huffin'

Cuz' you left your crew lookin' like some artic puffin's, with their chests stuck out can't speak or nothin'

Enough of that dumb shit, I'm on my juice and gin, I got my cup and I just chipped in

Tip a cup to the sky and toast my jambox

Cuz' we all got an urge to get jammed up

80's babies, join me in celebration

No exclusions, excuses or genres to shun

We're inclusive, elusive but still remain one

And I'mma do my damn best to make sure you have fun

With a mic and beat we get hype on our feet

Dance all you want fuck what's gangster or chic

I got a mean pop-lock and I love to perform

Sweat out the details on the damm dance floor

Cold blooded, low budget but we still get flooded

Rail drinkers, non -thinkers but we seem star studded

This life just ain't enough so we keep on dreamin'

My thoughts and my people are the things that I believe in

No- god, no prob find me looking for a job

Stop prayin' on the day when they called the lynch mob

Huh' what you know about a dude from the burbs

Put it down harder than your favorite hip-hop nerd

Little friendly competition for the people that be wishin'

For a battle emcee I freestyle in my kitchen

And walt's inn when the mics are free I might be

Spittin' sixteen's with mister salvador denali

Straight wowin' foul shit apologize now

For some shit I'll say later cuz' I'm on the rebound

So kid sister if you're listening, dump A-Trak

He's too short for you and I'm the dude that you should smash

It was the days of cassette tapes and SK-8's

The casio keyboard with the sampler my faith was shaped

Aethesist as shit, and when you get me in the booth

Give me five good minutes convince ya' god is a fluke

And sinners are cool, winners are too, but life's alot more fun

When sometimes you don't follow the rules

When you a lil' tike, fisher price, farting in the mic

For a kick drum like, that "toot, toot's" tight

I been nice for minutes, but now I'm ready to kick it

My shell's been broken, look at those empty cans of spinach

I'm popeye, you not fly and even if you were it wouldn't matter

You're white noise, just another herb

So many blurs in my vision they're starting to seem artistic

Colors mixing together, ink falling off of my shit list

People starting to get it, words starting to spread it's

Miraculous apparently rap ain't dead

Gotta laugh when I hear that phrase uttered

Cuz it's utterly retarded to think hip-hop was dearly departed

It merely didn't show up on the Billboard charts in 2007

And to me, that was a blessing it gave these independent acts

A chance to shine, and let these mainstream rappers start clothing lines

Diversify, and hope to god that their ugly ass jeans hit bargain bins, nationwide

And with that being said, respect, it's all love, hip-hop finally fell off

Now back to square one like...