Part Of The Game

Lone Catalysts

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    Lone Catalysts
    Yo
    I grab these microphones to live, son
    Pay the rent, put food on the table
    Got a roof over my head
    But I take it serious
    No joke

    [ VERSE 1: J. Sands ]
    Comin straight out the box, first edition, nutrition
    From musicians, food for thought when you listen
    I been around the atlas, countries and states
    Everybody knows the Catalysts bumps, beats and breaks
    The most true to life rap tactics for practise
    The fact is, I tilt a nigga off his axis
    The way that Sands taxes, doin his mic matches
    Somethin massive, let me explain what the wrath is
    Four hundred years of oppression, anger, aggression
    And the anxiety of a blackman stressin
    The devil keep on testin, always gotta offer his suggestions
    Make it seem greater when it's less than
    That's just tricknowledge
    They teach you it from high school through college
    So you can go out and get them dollars
    It's just a game they play to see who has the fattest wallet
    That's why most blacks smoke crack and most white alcoholics

    [ CHORUS: J. Sands ]
    I grab these microphones to live, son, rest in peace Big Pun
    Because you know another day you're not promised to live one
    Yo, the streets are hot, most blocks are like a prison
    So if you're lookin for love, kid, you gots to give some
    Man, these days are cold-blooded, everyone's butted
    Rock jewels that stay flooded, the weak, they never cut it
    Sometime I be like 'what if' but ain't a damn thing gonna change
    Cause it's just part of the game

    [ VERSE 2: J. Sands ]
    Aiyo, I slap-box lyrics through mics, the smooth type
    That move right into a state of mind to fight
    Cause it's all ground zero, my street level bureau
    We'll play this game until we master it like Ken Duro
    So what's your role? My part is the aural
    Sub-moral, Lone Catalysts remain plural
    I'm like ???? headin out to ????
    Maryland, in a caravan to a rural
    Spot to make a drop-off, that's how I hustle my raps to prosper
    Cause MC's disappear like Jimmy Hoffa
    The hungriest cats are at the crib writin this very minute
    They see the pennant and wanna win it
    That's how styles get invented
    Y'all new jack timid frontin-ass niggas rhymes be rented
    I got no respect for y'all, y'all probably be the next to fall
    You wanna bang, kid, should be waitin for the ref to call
    A time-out, so you can find out
    Any possible way to exit this rhyme bout

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    [ CHORUS ]

    [ VERSE 3: J. Sands ]
    Okay now let me get back to the session at hand
    My DJ's name is Jason Rawls, I don't need no band
    Yo, I travel across the land, microphone in hand
    Do some dates out west so I can work on my tan
    I guess it's just the rap life
    Y'all know who y'all niggas act like?
    Quick to blaze the bag pipe and talk about the last night
    Some are real grimey muthafuckas up in the fast life
    Don't give a damn about rap cause they're stresin the crack price
    (And grip the Mack tight) Some niggas frail like a glass pipe
    With more bodyguards than Bill Clinton around they ass, type
    To walk the streets at night carryin a flashlight
    Some are players grabbin all the mamis on they ass tight
    Bust it, some smoke weed, get skeed, hashis
    Dust and ecstacy, shrooms and drink ??booze??
    For all my rappin niggas, I hope we link soon
    Get yours, I'm gettin mine, cause it's about time

    [ CHORUS ]

    A life...

    Yo, I wanna give a shoutout to everybody in hip-hop who couldn't be here
    Yo, Big Pun
    Freaky Tah
    Big L
    Scott La Rock
    Trouble T Roy
    MC Trouble
    Keith Cowboy
    Peace
    We miss you

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