Spose - 2002 lyrics

Spizzy!

I heard an MC this morning who made
Me wanna get in the booth
And no offense to him or his crew
But I know that I'm better than that dude
So what I gotta do to get his spot
In hip-hop and my video on MTV2?
I know it can't be the skills, ‘cause
Mine have been ill since 2002, since 2000

Too many Facebook rappers to unlike
This blank sheet of paper is
The shit they done right
Whilst Peter been beating the
Beat up repeatedly
Leaving the body in Peabody
Seemingly nobody noticed
I figured I'd take it and make it the focus
I'm the lord grand chancellor
Backwoods rambler


Rap career canceler, bumping Fiona Apple
I'm the weird beard grower, a ghost
A feared flow-er a myth, a gift shower
I been sipping on a Snapple
In the cypher you can find me
I'm the wildest geek
My assignment has been rhyming
Been aligned to the beat
My bud kind but I'm violent when I'm rhyming
Delete all pretenders who enter ‘cause
My potential's elite he's always stressing
Excellent when blessing a show
My investments are destined to double
Bubble and grow
So yes, in the flesh, the man, the mess
Spose who could still flow fresher than
Dressers of clean clothes
Oh, you getting to know the
Name I came to spell
I'm underground, yeah I came from Wells
So watch me play the bass line on a belt your
Favorite rapper just used so
He could hang himself "But it's all good
Spose!" No it ain't so swell
‘Cause I'm back down to Earth
Like some angels fell
‘Cause I popped up on the
Charts with some stained lapels
And then I disappeared faster
Than Dave Chappelle, poof

I heard an MC this morning who made
Me wanna get in the booth
And no offense to him or his crew
But I know that I'm better than that dude
So what I gotta do to get his spot
In hip-hop and my video on MTV2?
I know it can't be the skills, ‘cause
Mine have been ill since 2002, since 2000

Two! I been struggling rhyming like
Weed made of iron
That's how hard I've been grinding
Been neglecting assignments
Dreaming of islands but not recouping
Beat looping with the droopiest eye lids
My ups and downs have both been critical
My free time is infinitesimal
Inside my ride, driving to the gig
Whipping it, kicking it, ducking the piglets
Fine rhymes kid
There must be a connect, I can't find him yet
Don't want a private jet, just rhyming checks
Hey, you'll never find Ryan crying
With the blues like sirens
Bro, this is no sob story
Even though they're hating in their verses
I don't want sympathy
This is a statement of purpose:
I will out work every motherfucker alive
And those who don't fuck their moms, too
Yo, yo
I got callouses that will amount to palaces
Analysis is cats is on my phallace
Put 'em up i sip McCallan, talented
Vow to you no medallions
Challenge it till paralysis, dude, put 'em up
If you're playing Call of Duty
Chilling watching television
And you wonder why you're going under
Shut the fuck up but, if you never relent
Like you only loan things out once
Then guess what: your day gon' come

I heard an MC this morning who made
Me wanna get in the booth
And fuck him and his crew
‘cause I know that I'm better than that dude
So what I gotta do to get his spot in
Hip-hop and my video up on Nah Right too?
I know it can't be the skills, ‘cause
Mine have been ill since 2002, since 2002

Some people are saying that this guy might
Be the next big rap star
And he's a white dude from Maine
His real name is Ryan Peters but he goes by
"Spose"
We need him to work some hip-hop into Bangor