Talkin' My Shit - Brother Ali

Intro Sample:

Shit, motherfucker you talkin' to the kid

Talking (Brother Ali):

Yeah.

Ladies and gentlemen.

Boys and girls

The one and only Brother Ali is in the house tonight

That’s me.

We gettin' directly into this right here

Verse One:

Hold up

Do you mind?

I’m trying to build a kingdom here

Walk to the store with your boy let’s get a ginger beer

Listen here I got some shit to sprinkle in your ear

Rip and tear the kick and snare, whistle like Rakim was near

Independent penmanship, sending bitch-tendency-havin'-rich-rappers to their

residences

My present tense is legendary livin'

Like my fifty grand merch, work for what I’m givin'

Build and add to it with the skill I mastered it

Carefully grabbin' shit to build a castle with

Ended up champion of underground rappin'

It ain’t what I imagined but I still ain’t mad at it

I’m in a college town bossin' that crowd around

Raise your hands, wave em up, do it like this and holler out

Like a Gladiator movie score

Try to teach a cracker rapper how to clap on two and four

In the crowd I’m shakin' peoples hands

Just to take an equal stance with my barely legal fans

Can’t believe they ass came and heard him raw

Made em want to run and hug him with a sweaty shirt and all

Labels turn me off, I ain’t what they lookin' for

I ain’t got a six pack, tatoo or a bullet hole

But I’m muscle underneath all that

You get your peanut smacked

I scrap like I’m Butterbean on crack

How he manage not to catch heat flashes?

On stage Adidas jacket doin' Heavy D dances

These rappers are graffiti on canvas

Even if they snappin' they could only be half of it

I say shit motherfucker shit

Ali and them sitting on another hit

He got his fist up to the government

Still tryin' to get his dick sucked, son of a bitch

So let me talk my shit

C’mon now, let me talk my shit

Calm down, let me talk my shit

Verse Two:

Let me start off my shit like this

Quiet down now the masters rappin'

And Ant got his back trying to craft a classic

Joe Mabbott track, they have to grab it

Like my dick when they… naw, I ain’t sayin' that shit

We all thought some weak lines by now

But you actually rewind and write yours down

And walked your behind in the studio to speak it

And then decide to keep it and release it

So either you believe it

Or you don’t give three shits about havin' lyrics, you can take it or leave it

So if you’re not really thinkin' about the things that you say

Then don’t call me a hater when I feel the same way

Came up in the day, listening to the greats

Learned to smell a fake half a continent away

I ain’t dumbin' down you’re gonna have to smarten up

Too tough, your blade ain’t sharp enough to cut

Bout to fuck em up

Someone should have ran and told him that I’m nuts

Buttercup ain’t tryin' to knuckle up

Sock 'em in the eye, baby, slug 'em in the gut

Should have never let the Brother run amok

What the fuck!

Verse Three:

Big bad, fat ass

Cat that can rap fast

Straight up nasty like a New Orleans lap dance

Last chance to pass on the chitterlings

But act now and we can still split a thing of chicken wings

Fredo Corleone, bitch kiss the pinky ring

Backpack raps answer to Sam Kinison

Is in your town

Act like your shit isn’t brown

Your highness probably piss sitting down

These Eddie Brock MCs is so venomous

Can’t seem to picture the authenticness

Trying to keep up is bad for your health

It’s a walk in the park, I’m photographing myself

Scratching:

«People round town talkin' this and that» — EPMD on «So Whatcha Sayin'»