One time for the streets,
One time for the jeeps,
One time for the brothers that be into beats,
One time for the poets,
One time for the mind,
One time for the brothers that be liking a rhyme.
Now, when I comes to kicking out the flows I am the one,
Saying and just random skills that haven't been done now,
Back in '89, I used to come at the rhyme with a roll of my tongue,
But now, when I look around town, I see everyone's pursuing it, doing it,
Grooving it live on the radio, at they shows,
It seems a lot of brothers have mastered doing this type of flow,
So, in '95, it's a new one, hard core, as I come through the door live a wild boar,
Now, at a show, man, I be phenomenal,
Get that you'll leave drenched in sweat,
Unless you are a nerd or you do not like the words, you'll be up in the bleater, stiff like a parking meter,
While I bring the bombastic, rhythmic, artistic lunatic on stage, where a line pays for you not to pass,
If you do (fire) we'll be on you like Backdraft,
Your hair and clothes will be burning, plus I'll keep you cash,
The crowd will point at you, and they will all begin to laugh hysterically,
No, around town you get no justice,
Whole world falling down like Michael Douglas.
One time for the poets,
One time for the mind,
One time for the brothers that be liking a rhyme.
Now I be tearing up this mic like a rent-a-car,
Straight be melting negativity like snow upon the mountain,
Wisdom be shooting out like water from a fountain,
My form of love's very complex when understood,
It's more satisfying than sex,
My songs last long, hit it like Chong,
Get a bong, you'll be gone, blitzed with the Monty,
So crunch on these lyrical vitamin rhythms I'm distributing,
Tantalizing that ear, rising like yeast,
It's my fourth release, hard like a toeless crease,
Financial increase without giving up glory to the beats over bass and treble, 'cause I'm not that type of producer,
You get positivity when you hang with Mr. Cooper, which is me, bro,
Getting deep like Ezekiel,
Intricate, but most people won't take the time to dissect it,
The sound is protected by the one who spoke to nothing and created something,
So stop fronting.
One time for the streets,
One time for the jeeps,
One time for the brothers that be into beats,
One time for the poets,
One time for the mind,
One time for the brothers that be liking a rhyme,
One time for the streets,
One time for the jeeps,
One time for the brothers that be into beats,
One time for the poets,
One time for the mind,
One time for the brothers that be liking a rhyme.
Now, for you to really understand this piece, the flesh must decrease to last on this path,
Study my words like math,
They'll kick back and laugh as you appreciate the ground falling like lava on grass now,
Can you feel me? Can you feel me?
Though my vocals, mixed to a balance to abnormal arrangements, birthed from experimenting with elements in the sound shack,
We've made vows to never pile up pages of plague poetry,
You know it's me when it cuts through like a Ginsu,
Generating energy to the point where I collapse into a deep sleep,
Then I become the track, hypnotized by the metronome,
I roam, then suddenly thrown in the sound waves,
Currents and hertz causing my body to jerk to the left, to the right, to the left, to the right, to the left, to the right, to back under a kick where I sit,
Then the snare thrusts me back into our atmosphere, with results you hear.
One time for the streets,
One time for the jeeps,
One time for the brothers that be into beats,
One time for the poets,
One time for the mind,
One time for the brothers that be liking a rhyme,
One time for the streets,
One time for the jeeps,
One time for the brothers that be into beats,
One time for the mind,
One time for the poets,
One time for the brothers that be liking a rhyme,
One time for the streets,
One time for the jeeps,
One time for the brothers that be into beats,
One time for the poets,
One time for the mind,
One time for the brothers that be liking a rhyme.
