Last Mcs F/ Vordul & Taiwo

Stories of how we gone through it since way Back, talking problems and hard paths Starving on blocks, we fed, mad At niggas that forgot we broke bread Grow with strength, learning everyday lessons Gotta get up and press issues, stressed from Being misused. Fuck those mad 'cause We spit truth, get dro in bags and For you, it's easy—more so said than done Chased by police, we run, get Tired, pause in streets with peace Wired, come down hard from being highed up Stuck on clouds, but no time to fuck Around. Make tracks and rush your town Off corners, lungs burnt-out, still Got stoges, bust 'em down. Outside Wild, got the grown folks Cussing now like, "Yo (Yo) What the f...? (Shit crazy)" And it' s Nothing but problems. Who gonna come Around and solve 'em? Who gonna be The one to save us? Gotta save you And make special moves. You know it's like... Carving blocks of granite, Stonehenge flows Sisyphean stones? We move those Kudos to the kids for stage shows, Wizard of Oz Curtain-pullers on cats who b-boy-pose Corporate toads, the nose knows you're softer than Ho Hoes. Breaking mixing boards in dojos Turn studio to à la modes for semi-pros Career-ender, adiós, retire To the Poconos. You could have been a contender Tell your grandkids while pulling quarters from behind Their ears, nursing a beard, thinking back over The years. Under belts, Spitamatic They was something else. Which Yung Havok? The last emcees I ever felt (Ever felt) Alright, alright, alright, alright, settle down, settle down, settle down. Everybody grab your seats, you nah'mean? Coming for you live and direct from the Woodz, it's me, the one and only Priviledge, you heard? Holler at me. But coming to the stage, right now, the very illustrious (This might be all night!), my man William Bodega I'm an outer comp like an E.T Who holds weight like snitches at the bottom of lakes Who can bend when beats break? Always drop different Like snowflakes, throw the mic down, have it Turn to a snake. Holy Moses upstate That'll have you tied to his stake half-baked Down here, no great shakes. The average Resident on a milk crate'll outshine your mixtape Hard to kill Gates without eight bars Of free-base to stay away. We're lane-switching Out freeways when we snatch your plates. Get out The kitchen, where I dwell, raw, well intuition Linguistic double-stitching, word connect, forward Connect, raw creep with beef for sleepy peepers Max out the meter, clap out the heaters Thought-cheater. Vengeance sweeter served Cold, first abasement. Composition Flesh, plasma, reefer creature search speakers Mic kryptonite—getting weak, I step On stage, glide, forgot my verse blade So I slide, first pray. Drunk crowds worst Rhyming dragons unrehearsed, you're getting paid Drop my ganja vibing. Who's on first? Fire Marshall Ray, thugs pushing, dicks swinging a purse Stage-diving, conniving Coronas More haze, NYPD pepper spray Bartender rising, snatching top-shelf You don't got to go home—at least not by yourself