Feel Like Spittin' - J-Live

Ayo, I rap for my scraps

Rhyme fo' my dimes

Spit fo' my grip

Write lines for shine

Flow fo' my doe

Words said for cred

My justice is to bust this, nuff said

You can find me, in the mid 90's

Home, my preferred B.P.M.

off the dome

In Manhattan streets, my young feet roam

In years I released my most classic poems

My M.P.H.

on the turnpike’s slowin'

The average test score when the transcripts shown

The name’s got fame but the game’s unknown

I inspire many but I have no clones

I’m born the cipher known as the true school

At least that’s the sound cats say they used to

I grew up from does to did to used to

So rather than fret I suggest you do too

The term’s not needed it’s already implied

Whatever comes out, that’s what was inside

If life is a beach, my flow’s on the wet side

So my own foot must get swept by the tide

Along with the critics that distort the facts

The Monday morning, armchair quarterbacks

I could pass, run through you or catch

Rhyme, program with scratch when I score I spike it

Why?

Cause I feel like it

(You J how you feel?)

I feel like I’m the shit

I know no other way to say it

Now wait a minute

If that was true, you wouldn’t play it

So many ways, so many days to display it

On the mic or on the tables I’mma forte it

You can’t fuck with it, you can’t even foreplay it

There ain’t an actor that can accurately portray it

There ain’t an artist that could even sketch a portrait

I like this, to resemble what you like in this

There’s nothin' like this

Nothin' as this

No simile

No metaphor

Wait!

Silly me, yes meteor fly through the sky

Light up your life

Make a wish, fuck that, make a wish come true

Come true on the mic till the light shine through

Come to a show, stand where ever you want to

One, two

Not a square inch in the place outta reach

To the speech, mic or not I accapel (damn)

You’re listenin' to what I’m sayin'

You know how I can tell?

It’s written on your face

Screamin' «J you put a spell

You know Live can tell a story and still rock it well.»

And if not, you didn’t hear me sayin' «go to Hell»

I got a rocket in my pocket you can Akinyel

I’m goin' public this year, I know my stock will sell

Fuck sink or swim son, I know my ship will sail

Justice will prevail with a story to tell

Born in Harlem, raised to Globetrot

Will I be without BK?

I know not

So I rep for the whole New York, I go to spots

You can tell by the way that I talk, it had a lot

To do with how I package my gift

My whole presence is wrapped in the New York Times and God lessons

Hard like paper mache and the headlines say

«Young boy makes good, each and every day»

Each and every way, I’mma show and prove

Over hip hop grooves

Makin' hip hop moves

I go from city to city

Back yard to yard

Been around the world and I, I god

Spread culture thick through lyrics

Never outdated

Often translated

Praise due and gain through dap and anecdotes

On how these quotes became the antidote

For a surplus of ignorance and deficit I hope

I reverse the polarity for the sake of clarity

Cause it don’t stop till I stop and won’t stop

I say that with the confidence I write with (why?)

Cause I feel like it