In My Head

Artist: The Reverend William Burk f/ Shaki
Album: Insurrection
Song: In My Head
Typed by: King Kane

[Hook: Shaki]
Let me see the microphone, I've got something to say
I've been thinking these crazy thoughts all day
This is how I feel, and it really needs to be said
This is what goes on inside of my head

[The Reverend William Burk]
Yo, it's the brother with the rhymes better known as Burk
You can catch me in the studio puttin' in work
MCs fallin' off the map when I kick the earth
Get slick if you rollin' in the back of a hearse
Brothers gettin' played like Jesse's wife
Pay attention, I'mma teach y'all the facts of life
Protect ya neck before I give it a slice
And you can't drink Cris' and you can't wear ice
Beats made of fire, touch and get burned
Rhymes slick like an Al Sharpton perm
To get the club jumpin' you play this song
All night long, free drinks for women in thongs
My style's guaranteed to get you high like weed
Lyrics so sharp, make your eardrums bleed
If you down with me, then let's proceed
And if you're a dime piece, let me plant my seed

[Hook]

[The Reverend William Burk]
Yo, you know the name is B-U-R-K
Drop the bomb like Timothy McVeigh
Child is destiny for me to hit Beyoncé
Tara caught me cheatin' with Sade
Never feel guilty, never feel filthy
Play around wit' me and get slapped silly
My sound's so underground that it's hellbound
Angels, devils and demons feel me
We're 'bout to rock on and make you work
Better respect this like you're in the church
A lot of rapper's bite, remember where you heard it first
Dirty verse, spit the nasty verse
If you wanna battle me, you better rehearse
I give you bad luck like a family curse
Cause one against this is such a death wish
Like burnin', drownin' or torture, what's worse?
I'm in it to win it, dun, I gotta be the best
Like a fat chick in a eatin' contest
Milk the game until it ain't nuttin' left
I'm still in hip hop, gettin' charged with death
We rollin' through like wheelchairs do
Battle anybody in your whole damn crew
Make 'em all holla like DJ Clue?
They run faster than Flo-Jo when I'm comin' through

[Hook]

[The Reverend William Burk]
Yo, let the hell out the gates with originality
Bustin' gun shots, turnin' cats to casualties
I wished the government would stop attackin' me
Can't walk down the streets without the cops harassin' me
These days you gotta pay the DJ
Just to get your song on a list that he play
But I still make cuts hot as heat waves
I get the club crunk, so forget what he say
If you wanna backstab towards the front
Throw your hands up cause I got what you want
Rap to me is like makin' a free throw
Easy, y'all come thicker than Miss Cleo
I'm trainin' for a war like a army dude
Burnin' weak rappers like a barbecue
I'm comin' with the hunger of a starvin' dude
So stoppin' this rap is impossible
What

[Hook] x2