Hip Hop Junkie
If I describe myself I make up new words I'm the Masterminder
I don't like my drugs, clothes, or hoes designer
Intelligence and humbleness and progession of assension
Rhymes invention relaxes mental muscle tension
But I ain't tryin to boast or flamboyantly flaunt my skillz
But in my mind quitin a 9 to 5 to make hip hop is worth the bills
Real talk comin from an ex-kid who did the workman's bid
Future was closing in tryin to trap me I popped the lid
I found freedom perseverance a continuing drive
I found music the lifeforce, an essence to keep me alive
I found hope happiness harmony in my vocal chords
I found the strength within coulda overthrown overlords
And now I find myself here, alone and completely contained
My mind pumps reactively A Cereberal Chain Gang
I sit puttin these words together like a clever endeavor
I Imagine if music's a feather it'd float in my mind forever
HOOK
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The life that ya live reflects the rhymes that You spit
Glad Hip Hop aint substance I already overuse it
But I can't say I abuse it I neva wanna lose it
But I ain't selfish man, pass the mic hey "who's hit?"
Hit it, Hit it, go on Hit the Mic
Hit that shit like chronic like you smokin through the night
So if ya think I'm frontin go ahead n try to punk me
But I ain't just an MC, I'm a Hip Hop Junkie
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This ain't musical chairs or lame brain's game
If I could I'd take hiphop and shoot it right in my vien
I even ain't afraid of a rhymatic overdose
I'd could rap paralyzed body nd dome in comatose
It aint easy earnin bread for energy to spit flames
So I control the force of the horse like my tounge was the reins
The horse is the piston pumpin hip hop music
Paper in my hand pen in the other time to fuse it
It's born my musical infant of this instant
It grows upwards n blends in like a stick of incence
My mind cultivates communications like a reefer garden
My words crackin like cash is clay maybe Ali made em harden
But subconsciously it's hard to be me I speak tangently
With fragments of thoughts that my mind keeps handin me
And demanding me to assemble n assess together
My Words a weaving string, verse a hand-knitted sweater
HOOK
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The life that ya live reflects the rhymes that You spit
Glad Hip Hop aint substance I already overuse it
But I can't say I abuse it I neva wanna lose it
But I ain't selfish man, pass the mic hey "who's hit?"
Hit it, Hit it, go on Hit the Mic
Hit that shit like chronic like you smokin through the night
So if ya think I'm frontin go ahead n try to punk me
But I ain't just an MC, I'm a Hip Hop Junkie
