Verse 1
Sounds of blackness abound in atmosphere
Round the atlas from Isle of Pathmos
Where, I stack plastic crates that handle proper
More hot wax than candelabras for sample operas
Plus numerous pads that play uterus
To scripts vivid as Great Muta’s spit, scrutinously
Drafted tags and murals I spray live, page dries
the pics pretty as my brother Dre’s eyes
Or a circa 89 Stoney Jackson throw atop
A track time, time for reaction
Slicker than Dax gel since 90 minute Maxell’s
Intricate rap weld when winning cast spells
With slow flow mojo show no mercy
Honed in the Cobra Kai dojo thirsty
No joke angling, throat strangling mics
Preparing to swipe the carrot from the rope dangling
Chorus
I gotta get it, I got, got to get it
I gotta get it, I got, got to get it
I gotta get it, I got, got to get it
One life to live I got, got to live it x 2
Verse 2
Raw as I ever been, bars are the evidence
Scarred ‘cause I represent hard out of preference
Far from the requisite stars and the decadence
Found down in GemStar, Carl on the tech assist
Crafting rations for masses asking for
Raps with passion over tracks that’s smashing
And Internet hooligans, overnight going from
Who is him to you again booing under pseudonyms
The known lesser under self imposed pressure to be
Fresher than your pole measure for a poem sketcher
Arm of Lincoln Hawk when he turn the cap back
Lock hands with crowd pin ‘em down, snap back
Given the signal I toss caution at the wind
Hit the finish tape draped ‘round the abdomen
‘Cause it’s no tip toeing with the flowing I go’s in
With nose in knowing that I’m gon’ win
Chorus
Verse 3
Not the cat to get his road paved easy street
Then brush with homemade pomade greasy speak
Floss hard with gaud jewelry that’s pawned usually
After robbed in a squad mutiny for tomfoolery
Naw, just wanna chill, have fun like Large Pro
For my people cop when I drop the cargo
So I can have grands stacked taller than Shaq stands
Have fam planted ‘pon acres of flatland
'cause wild cats eating while we just nibble
I had to sell the last of the peanut brittle
To press the disk up, I met some hiccups
But was much too driven to let them disrupt
Listen, since Nice threw me in the booth every page
Every set’s been to get me to this very stage
So on all spectators I’m putting my foot down
With the hook it’s a jux give up the goods now
Chorus
credits
from Peace (2008),
released September 2, 2013
C. Rushing/J. Brown
An ode to the duo’s love of hip-hop; lively lyrical performances, in-your-face record scratching, and booming beats. Bandcamp New & Notable May 15, 2018
Von Pea & The Other Guys reunite for a gritty ode to '90s street rap, featuring J-Live, Donwill, Skyzoo, Verbal Kent & others. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 7, 2017