Bet'

in the hood a great philosopher grew
few knew the secrets he hid
was able to prosper throuh
tight verbal experiments, the type
that constantly blew the lid off the cranial kettle
made everything so vivid, well known
always refused to settle
visualized sun, rain and created heavy metal
had a thought process that reinforced
radical method to get at the source
thunderous projectiles always on course
maintained sick rhyme like the main drug pettled
"my palabra is clean perspective from the ghetto"
spit every line mean, objective
always down like, que onda, que pedo?
culture got tooken a wuebo
ancestria orgullosa plasmada en mis huesos
i'll be god damned if you don't find me
kicking it with the necios
life seems like a constant test yo,
i see average y siempre le doy recio
cada decicion en esta vida tiene su precio
to acheive this lifes' riches, bare witness
i envision serious business
deadly lowkey missions
cooking up a scheme deep in hell's kitchen
living a dream till my body no longer twitches
living through an unspoken cosmic religion
skin carries several stitches
one of the many out to help heal the sickness
philosopher observe take action and speak word
fine is the art of striking a nerve
heavyweight sentence
in this life only know to end dependence
i roll with those out to chin check and serve
not reform but straight destroy prisons
freedom fighting menace
philosopher well aware of class struggle
and sweet vengance
perform constant mic sessions on life lessons
forfit my first impression
deep thought is not a new invention
but intelligent philosopher don't say much
hold to much respect for delicate profession
don't know a run on from a predicate
still i'm keeping on with certain class and hood etiquette
and that's till the day of my procession
for real homey you can bet on it.