Oh shyt! Little Jamaal talkin' bout how Brother D'ee can't get wicked!
I turned you down the first time god, but, my devil is up right now so don't take this azz whippin' personally.
Lemme Battle Smack yo' azz!
Danzig rise up
this youngin'
fuckin'
wit my mood
don't he know I was a veteran of this game
when he was an egg in his momma's
Fallopian tube
I got sent 2 hell
b'cuz God thought I was too rude
the devil sent me back to earth
with a note "I don't like his attitude."
so let me make this pubic announcement right quick
if you don't ride 4 the cause
pause
flick my bic
a.k.a., i.e., suck my dyck
4 the white boys in the suburbs
that's my prick
been robbin' niggaz of they heart
since I was stealin' gold chains from Slick Rick
La-Di-Da-Di
fuck that party shyt
I was a Nigga with attitude
since her-ron came in bricks
was raisin' a Black Fist
since my head was too small 4 a beanie
Tupac Sakur?
youngin' you ain't too sure
I knew Afeni
my brother hipped me 2 the Panter 21
miscarriage of justice malice
knew her back when she went by the name of Alice
so I guess you could say I saw
Pac's heart before sonograms
Little Jamaal talkin' shyt about your elders
forcin' me to write this
PEN-TI-GRAM
Little maa'fucka
makin' me rip this lyrical intifada
fuck it, this the second verse
call the hearse
while I verbally blast his medulla oblongata
born in Barbados
but I knew Jamaican Shottas
Livingstone, Erskine and dem
the original don-dattas
they had the drug game on lock in Philly
but I wasn't scared
got Obeah in my blood so I was prepared
walked past them maa'fuckas every day
give a little dap
erry-ting Eye-Ray
chill 2 the Robert Nesta they would play
eat jerk chicken n' a plate of plantains
go 2 skool get straight A's, play ball
the next day do the same
so Little Jay, lemme make this shyt brief
you a cheap
5 dolla cap of crack
Brotha D'ee is the Orginal Coca Leaf
when I read your text
I said, "god damn"
made me curse God
so now I burst this
PEN-TI-GRAM
3rd verse,
yo! somebody call the nurse
this young fool is holdin' his chest
I think he goin' into cardiac arrest
I guess,
he gettin' too many body blows
from my rhyme fest
nigga, 2 be the best
you gotta beat the best
now, here I was chillin' and retired
my battle card was past due
so I let the shyt expire
you tried 2 sell me out
but you couldn't find a buyer
'cuz niggaz know I rip Teena 'n Rick
when I bring Fire 2 my Desire
I take two rhymes
spyt em' two times
4 the suckas'
LOVE 'EM AND LEAVE THEM
maa'fuckas
Little boy, I rhyme in kilos
you rhyme in grams
gettin' pissed
flex my Terror-wrist
write this
PEN-TI-GRAM
4th verse,
yeah, fuck it I know I've been terse
I drop sensitive love shyt
but I don't carry a purse
I remember a little big eared youngin'
who had the rhyme gift
asked Jazzy Jeff who he was
he said, "Will Smith"
back then you had to prove yo' shyt in the streets
no one cared
next thing I know Will moved to Bel Air
became a millionaire
yeah, cats was impressed with my elocution
Marley Marl was kool
but Abu-Jamal was my kind of revolution
my power was in the people producin' pride
shyt, regrets I had a few
but it's been one hell of a ride
come 2 Brotha D'ee
youngin', come correct
matter of fact bow 2 an Original King
genuflect
oh..by the way
yo' pop nickname was Little Worm
his little dyck produced a dick head
foolish enuf 2 challenge me
see,
you the product of diseased sperm
by the way,
I got your boys right here laughin'
at you Fam
fuck with me,
Brotha D'ee
got cursed by
my PEN-TI-GRAM
Jamaal! JAMAAL!!!
WAKE UP BOY!
Oh shyt...U GOT KNOCKED THE FUCK OUT!
REF, DON'T EVEN COUNT!
IT'S ALL OVA!
Now lemme go back to my love joints.
All Poetry by D.Greaves/Darwin Greaves by D.Greaves-Darwin Greaves is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at dgreaves.posterous.com.
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