IN A HYPE.

I slam tracks perfectly, the gents meant to blend the words like herbs,
I invent the new rhyme techniques, I set trend, the culture be intact
the ritual of the rugged soul, I am not bugging, artist with the smarts,
and the heart to blaze the tracks, I phrase the facts, staying fly in an amazing act,
the Asian black, the flavour major, thoughts deeps as the pages of a pager,

The poet known to flow like moet, so phat,
out for the soul claps, mind on dough,
whips and chips and all that, a cold cat,
popping raps, no bull crap, triggers I do not pull that,
I am butter, I am a nappy headed kid,
represent the gutter, more pitches than rugger,
riches and peeping pictures of the action,
on wax I put my facts, a stacks is what I am after,
the massive passion of a Aziatic kid to rip mics,
kick the gifted lines in a hype,

PEACE!!!!

I declare peace to those are troubled,
I bring rhymes and rhythem to bubble,
I came to double up, the raps make the,
fake rappers cake some weak hits,
diss rappers to for the fact, they can not act,
I keep the tradition intact, Playing the game right,
I might blow, the hype is immense,
mind on a Benz,

I set trend, I invent, I blend,
I spin the beats, I bust my raps on stage,
I never scream in rage, out for the icing and the cake,
I do not take, I make and I also break,
the rappers who joke, I provoke broke cats,
leave the gats alone, You know it is on.

FIEND FOR GREEN

Moves be slick, rhymes are sick,
hater get moody, off them, while I write gems,
the hymns be off the hook like a cook,
in the kitchen, cooking birds or raps are hitting,
meant for pitching, I send out the drama on the plastic plates,
the carma is to prolific, kicks on the beats,
thick format off the sheet, stick to strictly rapping,
with eyes wide open, wonder what can happen,
if there was no rapping? My peeps be starving,
the streets will say amen to no culture,
youth I sculplture like shaping,
the nighttime volture, sky scraping.

The garden of Eden is here,
the gods are here so no fear,
the choclate boy thunder fiend for the green, in your ear,
the brownskin boss is here to stay,
flex and I lay text on wax, the facts stack like a bricks,
chedder under the matress, my business have cats mad stressed,
witness the sickeness of a dizzy flow, all that Moet,
I wet my peeps with, do not talk beef, PraShawn is playing for keeps,kid.