City Starz Contest Entry song by The Palmer Squares from Primary Album Dreck-a-masterpiece-of-shit. The music is composed and produced by Joel. Genre is Rap music. The Record company is unknown. Released on None.
The video came from: Youtube
City Starz Contest Entry Meaning
| [[Verse 1: Acumental] I’m a dreamer that never sleeps Speaker on stellar beats And sharper than a needle so tell your peeps I stomp emcees out with metal cleats Eat ’em like cheddar cheese So checka-check out, check out our melodies They’re what you call astounding And sometimes I feel like hip hop is all around me So I respect my environment like Saint Francis I’ve never been the type of cat afraid to take chances so You better pray like a mantis I’m great with semantics I’ll make you go ape shit, bananas, berserk An average jerk with a glance and a smirk That’ll make you put your cameras to work I lurk in the shadows like a Peeping Tom We the bomb, they shoulda dropped this fuckin’ verse on Vietnam It’s explosive-bang-boom, I ain’t never been to the moon But I’m the next closest thing to a star And I’m naughty if you didn’t know These ordinary dogs rock the mic on some give-and-go Just fuckin’ with the audio and visual But feel like Charlie Bucket when he brought the golden ticket home I’m flyin’ higher than a tree sparrow And I’ve been known to get it goin’ like a green arrow So let’s go y’all, all the way to the top City Starz and Matty B, y’all just ain’t got a shot We switch it up like this Yup, we switch it up like this , [Verse 2: Terminal Knowledge] Yo, yo, the beat is occupied Your screen is a front porch And I’m just laid back, sippin’ rock and rye and swattin’ flies So chop some limes, I might spark the trees Cough and wheeze while I cross the T’s and dot the I’s The bottom line is that I’m not about the dollar sign But I’ll compromise as long as we can stop the lies On the rise and the game is on some mise-en-scène brah You see me in the Nissan Sentra, baby hop inside So I could drop the proper rhymes Hip hop is dyin’ and I’ll show you where the problem lies These cats rappin’ without the mind, body, and soul And you can’t count on these folks cause they out on a stroll Where the fuck did my economy go? An emcee that say he stack papes is probably broke An emcee that’s makin’ fat tapes is probably dope And your chain gang is probably rope So I’mma cut right through it with the fluentness We do it wicked The Buddha twisted and now I’m lifted kickin’ stupid shit In hip hop’s book I’ll be the last page Joinin’ a cascade of starz in this rap trade Like jack spade I’m gonna get you suckah Choose a spot on the ground for me to stick you under I never chose to be a dope emcee I chose to vocally hold the key with my spoken poetry] |
