Power Rap Freestyle Interlude - Prodigy

Ohh, yo, ohh shit man, what up dunn? Yo where've you been at man? Yo we need you man You gotta put out that knowledge Kick that street knowledge G Please man, you got that drugs I need my fix of that dope C'mon man, please man, you got it man, c'mon man Now the latest gun drive, jelly beans GMT peyote, I know you feel me P's song is a natural tripping me My rhymes is so vivid, you start to see things Way different, America's fake I was fast asleep, but now I'm wid awake I was under the spell of Kangol and reserved notes Religion and fashion, I used to be flashy 'Til I had a total recall, forgot what I've already knew It took me 33 years for me to see the truth Ever so clear I was too young I couldn't articulate myself the right way son But now let me break it down, pass it all around This is not a theory, the conspiracy is real They wanna put me in a straightjacket in a padded room And tell the world is 12 monkeys so they can be confused Illuminati want my mind, soul and my body Secret Society trying to keep their eye on me But I'm a stay incogni' in places they can't find me Make my moves strategically They say life is like Chess But fuck that I'm tired of playing games with you kids Ain't no time for playing, check the rhymes it's insane I write it for the streets, for the hood inspiration Inspire every party to map where it's poverty I started with a Mobb but now I got an army With soldiers and troopers The TV and the radio scared the death of us So we hit the YouTube up Now I got millions of views Now watch how many rappers follow what P do Now I'm too hoody to conform to the program I'm too much of a rebel for me to try to fit in Nigga! It don't matter on the color of your skin Right now you either positive or you negative I got friends in high places, multiple races And coaches on my side, all you got is paper

(Feat. Havoc) [Intro:] Respect to the ol' timers man! (yeah!) Word up! And the younglings man those to come, ya heard? (uh-huh!) [Chorus:] Gangsters don't die (nah!) we just turn to "Legends" (yeah!) All we go through is hell, what the fuck is a heaven? (fuck is the heaven?!) We live fast and store death long as possible (that's right!) Get our cash and put threats in the hospital. [x2] [Verse 1:] Young P! - When I was thirteen I had dreams To do what LL did and Run DMC! Dirty ol' fuck! - Learnin' how to aim my pee Older niggaz in the hood use to try to thug me. 'Til Pops gave me a knife, told me to handle my thangs And if not, when I came back - he would handle me. I put my first 'lil bit of fear into niggaz I was gas Started hangin' with the others that was on the same shit. (whattup dog?) Had my first taste of gun fire early in my years Gang fights, we was jumpin' niggaz, we was just kids. Takin' coats off victims, watches off people's wrist Shootin' in the air (pop, pop!) part of tryin' to aimin' for your head. And us young bloods and 'lil young gunz from back then Grew up to be Raps most Infamous Clique. (uuuuhhh-ooooohhh!) Most thugs we grew up with proud of we did it And naturally you got others that wanna see us hit. [gun cocks & shot] [Chorus] [Verse 2:] Capital P! When I was thirteen I had dreams Now I'm all grown up and livin' out my dreams. And my Pops ain't here now that nigga deceased (R.I.P.!) And that being said how you gon' son me? Niggaz bodied JMJ right there in Queens Goes to show there's no respect for the ol' G's. Niggaz talkin' real tough - like I'm N-E-X-T! Like I give a fuck about shootin' up your peeps. (blat, blat!) About gettin' hit - I'm about to show you niggaz how to bleed Got guns in different states - you can't catch me sleep. Put bullets in your hearts - bullets all up in the meat (blat!) It's right behind your forehead's (blat!) bone you plead G's (blat!) When it's on and poppin' - you be beggin' I stop it You be beggin' for your life, 'fore that head shot stop it. Rappers lovin' my spit! - Fans lovin' my shit Indeed you got those that wanna see me hit. [gun cocks & shot] [Chorus] [Outro:] Ki'ed up nigga! I see you, bitch ass niggaz! You heard? Lil' kids-ass niggaz... fucked up! Tools and shit... (what else?) rest of the ladies stole that. They be hittin' you with the electric shit choppin' you back nigga! You better calm down nigga! Y'all broke niggaz need to give it up! Word up! This is gangs-transfusion and shit! World wide... If I don't get ya, my thumb gon' get ya, be fucked up! Real fucked up... punks! [Sample:] "Two old beef patties, special sauce, lettuce and cheese Pickles and onions, on a sesame seed bun the big motherfucking Mac! " [machine gun shots]