Words From The Genius

I see youngsters little teenagers
Walking around with beepers and pagers
And who's beeping them? oh it's the boss
Making sure no one is taking a loss
On his multi-thousand dollar operation
But how does he thank them for their participation
Whatever the pay, it's still not enough
Cause what they got into is some serious stuff
Hours a day back and forth on the strip
Sending customers far on a trip
And this roots of all evil brings about war
Cause you wanna open up another crack store
Children can't play in the parks and things
Because a stray bullet might be headed for the swings
You never though about that, oh i guess not
All you thought about was owning your own spot
To putting more and more people to sleep
But ya heading for a pothole six feet deep
You see the problem has gotten more serious
And the community is getting more furious
Get it deep in your head i told you so
It goes way beyond just saying no

Chorus: stop the nonsense

Remember steve with the blue jag?
They found him cut up and stuffed in a bag
He had his own operation uptown
And there was plenty other drug dealers he would cut down
In other words he was living foul
Shootin up neighborhoods acting wild
He said he had to protect his drug trade
Which we manufactured throughout arcades
He made sure his enemies felt the pain
Whoever he felt was a threat, got slain
Like donna, who was only sixteen
And she was employed on another drug scene
She try to set up a hit on steve
But he sliced her throat until she could not breathe
This is what happens when you deal
You don't care on who you got to kill
I might walk outside and get shot
Because i live next door to a drug spot
And i don't need this stuff in my vicinity
Of me being shot for mistaken identity
This is the stuff that steve was on
Now he's dead long and gone

Chorus: with his old nonsense

There's a rumor that an old lady heard a
Kingpin hiring a hitman to murder
A federal prosecuting drug-dealing witness
But that's how it is in the business
And i'm in it, physically gaining power
Constantly counting up cash by the hour
And it feels good to be paid
Regardless of how many victims get slayed
Accomplices of mine drop like flies
But in this everyday a homeboy dies
Whether shot in the body or cyanide in ya bacardi
'cause it's a cutthroat party
Now it's up to me to retaliate
And if i score, i'll increase the murder rate
I move on ones who double-cross
Set them up, now they suffer the loss
Of he or she who's ever on the agenda
Most likely a family member
Informants, rattle-tattle-telling snakes
Get shot up, brutalized and thrown in lakes
The parts of a body is found days later
The other half was done by an amputator
I'm undefeated in plenty fights
My enemies are beaten with many stripes
I'll shoot up funerals, firebomb wakes
Vehicular homicides, whatever it takes
Just to keep control of my empire
I'll set ya own mother on fire
'cause when it comes down just to me and my money
Ain't a fucking thing funny
All those who pose a threat i'll stick them
Ya friends, ya family and innocent victims
Get caught in the midst when i'm busting of nines
But they was in the wrong place, the wrong time
Decapitated bodies found in lots
While i'm still cooking up kilos in pots
The kilos becomes bricks and the bricks becomes rocks
Then retailed on the blocks
I drive around in expensive cars
And get women who fuck like porno stars
I get them high, you know, like powder they nose
Then put 'em in the streets as my high-class hoes
I'm wild, living foul and i'm ruthless
I leave muthafuckers toothless
I had a worker who stepped on the scene lively
Then started selling my customers ivory
Soap, counterfeit vials of cracks
I stuck 'em to death with a thousand thumbtacks
You've seen my resume, that's just the half
I'm a bad muthafucker, just like shaft
A character played by who? richard roundtree
The only difference, my guns are sound-free
Silencers ring off then wisp by
Then all you hear is a last minute cry
Of those who triedto control my territory
Not the west side but the bed-stuy story
Police be giving me eye-to-eye contact
But i smile 'cause i'm putting out contracts
Now a g-note is placed upon ya head
You say picture that alright, bang ya dead

This is the life of a drug dealer

Chorus:

What are silly girls made of made of
What are silly girls made of
A neck full of gold, material things huh
That's what silly girls are made of

Verse one:

On a scale of one to ten i seen a girl about a nine
A slave of mental death of only she was divine
Walking down my ex-block, the block munroe
I said, peace to her, the girl said hello
Well hell is low and the lowest you can go
Is thirty-two degrees, below zero
So i started to rain on this young girl's brain
Causin her a great mass of physical pain
She said, "tit for tat, step off my bra strap.
No diamonds, no gold, you cannot get a rap."
Then i said, "so what?", as i grabbed her butt
She smiled for a while but her mouth kept shut
The girl is eighteen, just birthed a child
You're young in the brain and your thoughts are wild
You're on welfare, yo but you don't care
You say, "ftf is always there."
Yes ftf meaning face-to-face
The main headquarters of your local place
Where you collect your bi-weekly pay
To support the foolish habits you abuse everyday

Chorus:

What are silly girls made of made of
What are silly girls made of
"yeah that's right, i'm juicin em, i'm juicin em dry!"
Is that what silly girls are made of?

Verse two:

There has never been a dame in my entire life
My girlie, my ex, my next or my wife
There has never been one who tried to disrespect
Especially a member of the opposite sex
Yo bust it, there's somethin that i gotta let out
But i don't want to be known as ralph the blabbermouth
Silly girls, they think guys are soft
But all they wanna do, is knock their boots off
And just from obtaining the common sense
You can tell that the girlies seem rather quite dense
Other than dense they play slightly bold
But from the statements i made they could not uphold theyself
They break down, and they start to cry and said
"oh! i don't believe this guy!"

Chorus:

Now what are silly girls made of made of
What are silly girls made of
"it's all about the finances" "forget the romance"
Is that what silly girls are made of?

What are silly girls made of made of
What are silly girls made of
"guys with cash" "can rock my big a--"
Is that what silly girls are made of?

Verse three:

Silly girls on a strip, struttin back and forth
Watchin cars, thinkin of g'n off
Lookin for gentlemen, who they might swing
And attitudes, like you can get anything
You wear tight bodysuits under long coats
But ain't satisfied until a pervert slice your throat
You're young you're dumb and you used to be innocent
When young, now take a look at what you've become
A bloodsucker, trying to get all you can
Out the pocket of thenext girl's man
Just to clothe yourself in gold and jewelry
You wear tight jeans with attempts to lure me
Into your web, cause you're livin like a spider
And playin it off, like everything's oreida
You come out late at night and roam the streets
Like thiefs, stalkin a piece of flesh meat
Is that what you do for a living get paid?
C'mon, there's plenty of ways to get paid
But instead of living the life that's clean and sturdy
You'd rather go out and get your knees dirty

Chorus:

What are silly girls made of made of
What are silly girls made of
"he better buy me some gold bamboozles" "and some fendi too"
Is that what silly girls are made of?

What are silly girls made of made of
What are silly girls made of

First of all, don't leave home without it
Without what?
The gold card
I'm tryin to tell you now
I don't lay on my back for free
You know as they say
If you wanna taney
Ya gots ta pay

Yo what's up gorgeous, what's your name?
Baby let's talk about your assets first
Alright baby, well let's go for a ride in my new car
What kind of car you drivin baby?
I got a new yugo
A yugo? c'mere
You go, get in your yugo
And get on out of here!
Girlfriend, tell him about hisself
I don't believe him, he got champagne thoughts and bud light money
Bud light money? a yugo? a thirty-five hundred dollar car?
And you steppin to this? i take only benz's and better love
Forget about the love it's all about the money
So let's go put on our silk suits and step to the club tonight
That's where it's at
Yeah, money

What i'm about to flow on is so dope
The average hip hop fiend couldn't cope
Or explain my style because it's hard to define
So the fiend scratch and think and nod to the rhyme
That i lay down in a straight narrow path
While beats are just flowin' off a modern phonograph
Bass loud, high hats crisp and clear
That'll never let a weak mc interfere
Or bring about some technical difficulties
So i got prepared and i wrote these
Rhymes that just broke loose from the brain
Searching for dope beats on the same plane
For you to write new rhymes it is a must
But i come off with rhymes old as dust
Even as a speck of dust it existed
Ya got that?
Forget it, ya missed it

Chorus:
I'm slammin'
The genius is slammin'

You flip me on the mic, no way
That's me being played in april on the 1st day
Now who's a fool? what do you strive for?
Prime time juice on the box and fans galore
Forget it, cause you're not hype as they want you
With a maximum of 200 your rhymin' iq
Is 10, meaning thin, you'll never win
So erase that, i'm not gonna lose friend
I know you're gassed, ya charged, and kinda stuck up
But i define your challenge, a total fuck up
And it's critical, a crying shame
How many mc's challenge me, and die in vain
But you should've came with ya whole rap
Community, now where's your unity
Cause what i see right now is you and i
And you're too weak to stop me from doin' my
Damage, you know, type of body and fender
Nah!, not the same way i did brenda
But you had the audacity to step to me
Thinking you was butch cassidy and you could do me
How can you do me when you don't know me
And out of the hip hop styles ya couldn't show me
One style that may have damaged me
But that's something you'll never see

Chorus

M.c. means mic constructor i build
That have suckers running like what track and field
When i conduct please don't interrupt
With ya if's or and's or but's keep ya mouth shut
The hip hop style that i own is highly known
To bury mc's like a dog bury bones
And in this field, yo, i'm extraordinary
And in my back yard there's a cemetary
Of meek mc's who try to speak
And off preak technique that's soft and very weak
Yet they still have the heart to ask me to duel
And like mr. t, i pity the fool
The shining chrome microphone is the device
That makes me stand out like men amongst mice
So respond to the stimuli then fly
Straight to the sky on a natural high
Cause i'm the transmitter buck wild and bitter
Thinking about tryingme then reconsider
Cause if it sounds tempting boy, i'll double dare you
And speaking of your low life, i won't spare you
Cause you're not worthy of the mercy
Anyway the genius is just blood thirsty
So take a lickin' as the plot thickens
While ya head is took, ya be pumping like a chicken
How can you ever say my style was played
When my rhymes be chopping shit like a switchblade

Chorus

Such a shame, such a shame
Critical...

You're living foul, things are getting wild
It's difficult to raise a child
Cause growin up in a lost environment
Every day becomes a new experiment
Now we are faced with problems
But if we come together we can solve them
Before we start to solving, here's a sample
Who's coming foward to set the example
Inflation, starvation
Surviving takes a strong nation
Those who like to bring about static
Be aware of the true asiatic
What you see was predicted before
We were already warned of this bloody drug war
Wherever you sell it wherever you go
Ya still being clocked by the cops, ya know
You're paid by the hours, they see time flies
While your brain's being showered by a bunch of lies
You say i'm no slave where's the lock and chain
Hmmm, on your ignorant brain
Skip to ya loo with your high pro glow
Ya not stim off life, ya stimulated off blow
Or the new improved, ask beaming jack
Criza, criza, crack

Chorus: you're living foul, living foul

My people you were forced then brought
Stripped from your jewels brainwashed and then taught
To hate, deceive and dislike each other
Separating themselves, you're not my brother
Sit up at home for a mystery
Face-valuing things that you can't see
Can't taste can't smell, hear or feel
But senses prove everything is real
I'm here to present a positive way
If strong you'll accord if weak you'll stray
Drug users are stuck in the mud
Another 20th century modern day chud
These cannibal humanoid undernourished dwellers
Just took your check to the heroin cellar
Dope addicts, that walk and roam
Might have acquired immune deficiency syndrome
Aids, doesn't come from me
Cause i've studied and learned my history
It had to be something evil to bring that about
This is showing and proving beyond a shadow of a doubt

Chorus: you're living foul, living foul

When you wake up, to a brand new day
And you think about your salary or your pay
You think of negative things, should i get involved
Caught in crime, serving time, that's problems to solve
So you think about it, say that you must quit
Smoke a blunt, then you do the same old shhhh
And while ya high you don't truly know why
You spent your cash so that you can buy
Some herb (word) and some old e (yeah)
A fifty cent philly so the herb can be
Rolled up modern style to what we call a blunt
Know the facts is true don't try to front
Or stray away from the positive message in the song
That's only showing and proving you're not strong
And the strong is what we need today
Why? they go the opposite way

Chorus: of living foul, you're living foul

The words right now flowing off my tongue
Is for the old, the young, the one's that's strong
Those who are worshippers of diamonds and gold
You should not be bought and you should not be sold
Those who always want but does not need
Is slightly controlled by the hands of greed
If you rob, steal, backstab and abduct
Sooner or later you will self-destruct

Chorus: you're living foul

Those were the days, back in junior high
For an 8th grader, my style was kinda fly
And just to prove i was an mc pro
I often sponsored a classroom show
And the hype part of my imagination
Was making my homeroom a hip hop station
Minutes before the late bell would ring
I would greet the audience and then i'll swing
A lyric or two as the students barked
Beacuse my rhymes had sparked
Off somethign causing the class to mingle
To a rhythm which is now a 12" single
Letting off many styles of hip hop
Holding the mic that i made in wood shop
Forget gold, my key chain was a cable
Two math textbooks were turntables
And for a mixer, something much cooler
A penny being cross faded on a ruler
Measuring dope beats that were flexed
From hands that played a drum roll on a desk
From my home girl, her name, fly as emory
Sweet memory
I remember sitting in my art class
Drawing up lyrics kinda fast
The outcome, a masterpiece
Live shows with hyped up rhymes released
As if lyrics were flowing from the heavens above
I'll grab a mic and provoke a push to a shove
From boys and girls who broke necks to see
The lyrics g.o.d.

Those were the days

Now it's high school, lunch room's the scene
And i'm ready to flip the routing
In the cafeteria, period three
And here i come with the jvc
I go in my pocket and pull out a mic
Plug it in, check one-two...alright
Now who wanna show and prove their mc skills?
A brother stepped forward and tried to get ill
But when it came time to live out his name
He kicked rhymes that all sounded the same
But i did him in with a matter of time
And he was done with one victorious rhyme
He was shocked because he knew he was rocked
Along with his classmates from off his block
Yo!, i'm telling you, i flipped his whole crew
One against one or one against two
Or three or four brothers who swore they can rhyme
Battled me and got taken out every time
From my style and my dope profile
Plus the period of time that i rocked for awhile
As a motivated, dominated supreme force
Cultivated, activated cream and source
The wise educated and born to be
The one who would flip an mc

Those were the days