The Movement II - Kenn Starr

Kev Brown what up

Roddy Rod, Marshall Law what up

Sean Born, Eye-Q, Al Green, Quartermaine what up

Caliber, Oddisee what up

Hassaan Mack, yU, Slimkat, Kenwood what up

Cy Young, Early Reed what up

And to the younger soul brother Grap Luva, young Toine what up

And to the whole Low Budget what up

Battling my demons

Tryna grind even when it seems you’re defeated

Tryna find meaning in this green that I’m chiefin'

Like the smoke hold hidden messages

Know what it’s like to go cold, catch your second wind

Put the choke hold on those saying you would never win

All the while looking for a better blend

Wishin' I had a better set of friends to believe in

But it’s just me and them Low B niggas

And I’m low key sicker, was gonna be humble

But they wanna see me stumble like a Old E sipper

I’m a cold beast, that’s where I suppose we differ

I’m just tryna get my karma straight and voulez vous couche' avec moi

C’est soir with a fine lady marmalade

Doing what I do, they say Starr look like he fake

Nah I don’t respond to hate

Say what you want, I’m just tryna get my mama straight

Waitin' for the day my father get from out them iron gates

Used to rap more now a nigga conversate

I done found the pocket now a nigga gotta dominate

And when I get in beast mode

Call me Parker Lewis, can’t lose I got the cheat code

PG bred him and you see me reppin'

That 757 'cause I do it for my people

Off a fifth of the henn rock, they can relate to what my pen jot

They rather hate than give praise

Mention my name, you can hear a pen drop

Not itching for fame, I’m just tryna get props

Too much to ask for?

Fuck it, I just rap more

Giving 'em a crash course, dozen and half bar

Type of spittin' that’ll have 'em sending in a task force

Giving 'em that vision that they listen to the track for

And this goes out to everybody that doubt

Runnin' they mouth and don’t know what they talkin' bout

Rest in peace to Jay Dee, let me talk it out

They say word, K.B.

came across a style

That make herb ass niggas wanna toss they towel

And keep it movin' like a foster child that’s half gypsy

To emcees I’m like ten feet, they half pygmy

The other half pip squeak, I’m a flask of jack whiskey

To bad kidneys, shut it down fast quickly

So whoever wanna cross us now, if you that dizzy

Come up off it pal, I get that busy

Been in position to get offers now

Alotta subliminal disses gettin' tossed around

The backlash worst than Rosenberg when he bashed Nicki

We just tryna preserve culture

And if you counterproductive we shruggin' a cold shoulder

Off a fifth of the henn rock, they can relate to what my pen jot

They rather hate than give praise

Mention my name, you can hear a pen drop

Not itching for fame, I’m just tryna get props

Too much to ask for?

Fuck it, I just rap more

Giving 'em a crash course, dozen and half bar

Type of spittin' that’ll have 'em sending in a task force

Giving 'em that vision that they listen to the track for