Testo Bums

Verse 1: It's like one for the microphone, two for the camera Three for deadbeats, vagabonds, panhandlers Street scramblers, alleyway managers Substance abusers, born losers, mic damagers Everybody screamin', representin', keep it real But I'm still a worthless bum tryin' to get a record deal Peep my lingo, and every wise word the man speaks I've been living on the streets, and haven't showered for weeks But time moves forward, there's no looking back I'm homeless in pursuit of a record contract I wish my whole crew was paid in full like Rakim's But instead we're malnourished with skeleton-like limbs Instead of a land cruiser with BBS rims I got a busted pair of boots, and they're not even Tims See most mc's claim their pockets stay knotted Puttin' money in the bank, but point blank, I ain't got it I used to pump chums, for money in lump sums But now I snatch crumbs with a thousand young bums I'm the everfresh, what I still possess remains measureless My brain contains jewels and gems like a treasure chest Raw deal, no lie, that's the real And I can't remember the last time I had a hot meal Society labels me a bum, and that's right My crew keeps it tight, bums of the world let's unite Chorus: This one's for all the neighborhood bums To all my brothers in the gutters, in the slums In every city, no matter where you're from To all my boys, make noise if your bum (Repeat) Verse 2: Allow me to explain the mission, the pain infliction I entertain so listen, my style rocks like Jane's Addiction Mc's don't impress me, they know not to test me We'll be at each other's throats like Mr. Belvedere and Wesley Especially, when wack rappers open up their mouse traps They know not to tangle with these bums from the outback You see you can't miss what you've never had The life of a bum really isn't half bad We're never alone, cause bums travel in packs We combine fine lyrics with underground tracks We rock the best shows, placin' mc's on stress mode You can tell a fellow bum from his raggedy dress code We rock raggedy kicks, and wear raggedy pants We rock raggedy mics, and sing raggedy jams like, (Group of bums) The bums have the right to lay the down the law The bum train is leavin' from track number four The bummy engineer is the Last Emperor Hard rock like The Thing from the Fantastic Four While most mc's rhyme about guns and shootin' I drop science on their domes just like Sir Isaac Newton Big up to Q in Brownsville, that never runs Lift up your fist and shout, long live the bums Chorus Verse 3: Crack your brew, light your spliff, it doesn't make a dif Creamy light peanut butter, choosy mothers choose Jif Overlord of the poor, man not a myth It's the Last Emperor that you don't want to flex with I'll place mental lacerations and allesions On mc's and domestic and foreign legions I might be flambeau, but read a book of allesions The emperor switches up styles every season In the spring, I do my thing, relaxin' and that's it In the summer, just like a pirate, I attack ships But winter maybe, my favorite, one of all, but Jamal Is a Legend of the Fall, just like Brad Pitt I'm known to lyrically black shots on behalf of have nots Lock it down with the sound, equipped with chains and padlocks No gadgets, no gimmicks, no tricks up my sleeve And I won't play the Superman role like Christopher Reeve See you can learn a lot from a dummy Keep it real, better yet in '98, let's keep it bummy Bein' broke is no prob, you don't have to rob But if you're frustrated cause you can't find a job Have no fear the emperor is here to help ya Respect to all my bums, I'll catch you back at the shelter