Wordsmith Songtext / Lyric

(Chorus)

Perfection

flawless, masterpiece, no mistakes

Back in the 1800's I was burned at the stake

Metaphor Mephistopheles

Degrees I've achieved

The brain fluid it takes to believe

would equal the seven seas

I could reveal the true name of God

But you would go insane upon hearing it

Release enough winds to

blow down pyramids

I'm the Michelangelo of syllables

Since I freestyle

Genesis been biblical

That's something you got to give in to






(Verse I)

Since born in my mama's vaginal sauna

As a sono-gram, I've been fond of phonics

It's ironic, even as an embryonic

Fed through an umbilical

don't that sound biblical?

I've been a terror

Since I teareth out of the u-terus

Because evil plans were made to defeat us

As a fetus

Though now I walk in infamy

As a child they had it in for me

Was raised with guns in infantry

In diapers and in infancy

The childhood of a hood

that was raised in the hood

Cops said "put your hands in the hot sky"

I put my hands down on the hot hood

I can't whine or drink wine

Nine planets planned it

'Til it became apparent

My parents shouldn't have been a parent

State to state we ran some

I wasn't worth no ransom

Money, won't you hand some?

A nigga wasn't handsome

Raise the mind like Charles Manson's

New I was some man's son

But which one?

That made me strong

created my poison tongue.



(Chorus)



(Verse II)

Why you cut school?

Cause you ain't feel too good

I cut school

cause my cuts ain't heal too good

Through all the physical abuse

My mind escaped

through the gift of wordplay

I memorized encyclopedias and dictionaries

I wrote anthems from antonyms

Harmonies from homonyms

Created cinema from synonyms

Was livid to eliminate

that illustrious life you're livin' in

Wrote rhetoricals in rhythms

I can paralyze with a parable

Made rhymes out of religion

Use a prefix as a crucifix

Or suffocate you with a suffix

Wrote lectures so infectious

They're known to infect the listeners

Who dissin' us?

Yo punks you wait – I punctuate

My karma's the comma

That put you inside of a coma

Hyphen, dot, dot, semi-colon

Leave you semi-swollen

Question mark: You pregnant?

Oh you're not? I love you, Period

To sum it up, language is my essence

Fucked up in all my adolescence

Till my Mom's was out of lessons

Laws, I store convenient

Still I rob a convenience store

Love Mom, Fuck Mom

Shit, I don't love me no more

Mentally it didn't register, bitch

Empty the register, bitch

You just a cashier, bitch

Give the cash, here

Or I'll shoot you in your cabbage

Hijack a getaway cab, bitch

Words ain't makin' me no loot

Don't change now Dow Jones average

Regardless, we Godless

They stole my innocence

In a sense, the judge sentenced me

To 3 lifetimes sentences

To write my life in times and sentences

Art my dark arch nemesis

They want me off the premises

That's what the premise is

Locked on a tier

where you can't shed a tear at

I studied more Shakespeare

Than any African can shake a spear at

And the whole world fear that

And it hurts

I got caught for killing time

But then I got with words



(Chorus)



(Bridge)

People can say whatever they want about me

But agree that I am the Wordsmith

They can try to ignore everything that I've achieved

But agree that I am the Wordsmith

I am the Wordsmith

Yo, the love of words is deep in my veins

Must be to silence my pain

I am the Wordsmith

And even if I never move a million units

It's my blessing how I do it, cuz

I am the Wordsmith



(Verse III)

I'm in a game full of morons

And they keep putting more on

I tutor the Torah

I'm in the core of the Qu'aran

The mind's what I represent

And mc's better re-present

I'm taking this rappin' bullshit

to the fullest extent

I have reservations

why Indians are on reservations

Told that board of education

I was bored of education

As far as this go

I leave you deader than Disco

Rocking sex and violence

Over sax and violins

Through your minds camera lens

You're in need of an ambulance

I'll knock you to the asphalt

It's your own ass fault

Your last thought

I'll never sell my self short to be famous

And taking it up the anus just ain't us

The world could get the penis

Of this classically trained pianist

My P.O. was p.o.'d

Handed me a cup, told me to "pee in this"

The linguist musician

My college position is that my intuition

Told me I wouldn't be affordin' tuition

My education's all on my own

I might have been born yesterday

But I rhyme like there's no tomorrow.



(Chorus)