From the recording Drunken Monkey
Produced by Cozmo Beregofsky
Lyrics
Here, ready to bless tracks with no stress. Plenty emcees test, but in fact you're hopeless. You don't wanna miss Mr Beregofsky hippin' an' hoppin' an' kickin' the mad philosophy properly. We're gonna flip the real scripts. Too much love for tough thugs to deal with. Beyond ill will, we build fields for endless yields of realness so that the people can feel this.
I can bring the funky dialect to your sector. The unelected peasant-prospect protector. This is a golden opportunity. Don't even try 'cause I'm not going to let ya take away my right to spray rhymes. At the end of the day I'm just tryna make mine. If you get in my way I'll be happy to take time just to walk away; the laws obeyed. No violence, mate. I write some great rhymes in a private place where you cannot deny my space 'cause I decided to arrive inside a higher quality of life and I'm alive and I know how to say stuff. Understand this is the relevant language development. This way we're definitely the elegant, free, better emcees, and that's what I said. You've got the right to believe.
I breathe deeply, hear the beat, and I speak poetry over these socially acceptable noises. Hoist my voice, boisterous. Eating poisoned oysters wouldn't make me voiceless; I bring the noise and animate the pen and create the word, attach it and match it up with the snare and the fat kick. I'm coasting mostly, floating open minded and free. On a flow, ready to go. And I know episodes of the prose are exposed. Overdose of the skill. Focus and kill all the bogus and still never break a sweat except when the lights are too hot.