A Lil Sum-Sum For Tech...Love Ya Brah!

"Mass confusion while my crew's cruisin urs is losin
Making whack niggas disappear with no illusion
I'm like fusion, a union of atomic particles
Spitting logical verses that go together like some molecules
Fuck the articles that says hip-hop is responsible
For the actions of inner city youth...that shit impossible
Highly illogical, hip-hop is fucking entertainment
Now y'all wanna frame and fuck around and try ta blame it
I blame the media; stop eating what they feeding ya
Instead of leading this country towards better days, they misleading ya
Deceiving ya, the industry so cold and leave ya freezin brah
Go grab a sweater, write a letter to da fuckin editor
The warning's up, I'm warming up, this nigga predator
I'm sick of all the hoop and holla, nigga tryna make da dolla
Doin what I do today so maybe I can see tomorra
They blame the music, which is stupid, cuz it keep me strong
Put on another song, it's never wrong to sing along
Beatin on my chest like King Kong, I'mma beast, I'mma feast
On these whack ass niggaz, I leave em all deceased
Call me Priest...Holmes, but I'm never runnin back
I'm movin forward, always toward layin a sick track
I'm whick whack, don't take flack, grab ya camera this moment is kodak
I sold dat, dat green sack, in hopes of makin da greenback
I lean back, take a breath and try to fuckin clear my head
Of all the media hataz sayin hip-hop fuckin dead..."