Never thought straight, because my thoughts are leanin’
Northside, chamberlayne, the blocks for phinghin
NFL, NBA, or lime light for dreamin
Single mothers raising abandoned semin
Creative metaphors that I invent
Pushing my words more to the right like indent
I’ll walk into the booth, grab the mic and leave imprints
Fake rappers, I can still see you like thin tints
I got fake friends that tend to pretend
But once you start shinin, the love is pretense
I never had cold thoughts like brain freeze
I’m sorry ma, but music is my main squeeze
And theres people that say I’ll never succeed
But that notebook from dollar tree is all that I need
To write my thoughts down and my plots down
And any other brain cells that I jot down
So sip this lyrical potion, until you get swervy
She thought fundamental mean basic until she heard me
…And when she heard me
She don’t like the beat, she just loves the word-play
Put my poetry in your soul, and let my words play
I see the stars and I’m aimin
I told my homie DJ, that we could be famous
All we gotta do is make a song that’s brainless
Cause to me, being lyrical seems brainless
Yo 4 real, what happened to the game kid
Hip Hop documentary, I’m on the cover like Game’s kids
Well better yet, the table of contents
This isn’t matt flowin, its just my conscious
I only wanna go forward
I’m the writer of the source
The cipher of the force
And the biter of the Lord
Jesus is my ghostwriter
And he gets 3 times deeper than most writers
Get ya shovels, na they ain’t deep enough
These haters hooked on viagra, cause they keep it up
But I’ll never get f’d like honor roll students
Can’t remember the last time I was a honor roll student
But instead, they would roll on my honor
There goes another lyricist, oh yea, he’s a goner
I don’t think he made it……(I’m gon keep trying tho, its all good)


From talent shows and open mics
In the city of lampshades and broken light
Where the main motto is to pop bottles
The black sheep of the fam, just want yall to follow
I get my yesterdays, and cook up tomorrow
Just because its wrong, don’t really make it sin
And just cause you blood, don’t really make you kin
But GOD told me to love em all
You know family is unconditional, huh Jahmal?
I don’t know, to me it seems real cliché
I’ll call the radio station, and talk to the dj
Cause all I really need is one spin
But they’ll just play the same bs once again
Just cause the loud, don’t really mean they got noise
We won’t play you this time, we gave your spot to the Shop Boyz
Could care less bout the essence my cd has
And you should go commercial like tv ads
Get the remote, and click on the menu
Any talent shows, or any other venues
Any competitions, any other gigs
I wish I could go back, and talk to BIG
Just to tell him how his lady be actin’
When she went straight commercial with this rappin’
Givin’ play to emcees that don’t got style
I’m sorry, but HOTSTYLEZ wasn’t really a hot style
Yea the song sold records, but its not a career
But I give you realness, so all yall can hear
No drinking, no drugs, and yes, he would decline the cigs
Cause I’m working in the mind like conflict diamond kids
I’m traveling for my hip hop adventures
With a flow that’s hard to bite like soft dentures
My main thing, is to uplift
I’ll log in to they cipher as Matthew Smith
It’s a cold, cold, world, so I pray for the heat
But the devil just laughs and turns on the ac
Get out your flight jackets, but they don’t come with wings
Open mic sessions. Yo funda, did you bring anything
Then I’ll take a fine look in this rhymebook
Turn to the 3rd page, and speak
There goes another lyricist, he’s a goner
I don’t think he made it

THE DEATH OF AN EMCEE