another light to shine,i smother mics with rhymes
while i cover right behind,my safetys precise divine
feelin lookin straight up towards tha ceilin,anger buildin
no ones makin milllions,too bad pac didnt fake tha killin
we could use better influence and poetry,rap shit supposedly
comes to those whos chosen see,to be a froze emcee
those who fell and arose to feet,to speak about beef
and beats and hard streets,how to roll and charge sweets
dress playa pimp with a hard crease,all about ice and blowin weed
sellin snow indeed,too much dust no breathin,fiendin
for this green and seasons change its TreaZoN blamed
for thoughts below a gangsta and a hustler
dont sell drugs but i aint no busta,dont sport bright clusters
no diamond dustas,i dont stay strapped just laid back
listenin to played tracks,but tha point to make is simple
all we true emcees only need a bag of weed and some instrumentals
a pad and pencil,these emcees physique's complete
why we gotta be stereo typed and bleek.