BET 106 & Park: BackRoom Freestyle

Sha Stimuli’s BET Backroom Freestyle
(Aired Wednesday, October 6, 2014)
I wonder if Cassius Clay would have found out about his fate

As a youngin, before he changed up his name and absorbed the hate

Would he still have jumped in the ring and took jabs and hooks to the face

And become the greatest of greats if he knew he would have the shakes

When it’s over?

It’s never over for me, but I can relate

‘Cause my body would start to tremble whenever I walked away

I’d be sweating like I’m on heroine, meth and MDMA

Since y’all said that y’all like me bragging, I’m back and I’m here to stay

Hi

The human avatar for rapping hard, I battled God and came out with battle scars

I feel like I build with angels and travel far, for every gram of raw and a phantom car

That you hear about from dudes that they tag as stars

You might as well believe in Big Foot…the tooth fairy, leprechauns, Santa Claus

They’re spitting candy bars

Kit Kat, Almond Joy, Butterfinger, Milky Way

Snickers, Twix, Baby Ruth, Hundred Grand, Pay Day

Hersheys, Reese’s, Three Musketeers

They’re Twizzlers, that the listeners do not wanna hear

Clear

I’m a mutant, at nine I showered with rhyming power

Now with any beat I get, I devour

Put me in a room full of haters

Have ninety-thousand Simon Cowells

Their reactions, just be a line of vowels

Ooohs and aaaahs

Maybe a hell yes

Say more, sell less
Sick flow, well-dressed
Save rap, help desk
Hire me, wire me money little rapper, I can fix up your words like spellcheck

When I said well dressed…

I wasn’t talking Tyler Perry, Martin Lawrence, Eddie Murphy

Men in dresses, kinda scary

Oh my bad, they’re rocking kilts, wearing skirts

Oh I’m clearly

Just a hater, never mind, just pretend y’all didn’t hear me
Look!
Over there a distraction

Ok now back to me

I’m Shallow Hal in the flesh, although I be rappin’ deep

They found the way to battle me

Fake your own death like you’re rehearsing for a sick patient role on Grey’s Anatomy
I know I come across in manners
That’s cerebral, far from evil, sorta feeble, understanding
So these “ignant” people hear me, I start talking bout my hammer
Now my Friends are acting funny like they’re Joey, Ross and Chandler but…
I stress nothing, I sit calm
The game’s funny like old sitcoms
These rappers look like Fresh Prince, Full House, Family Matters, Growing Pains
Who’s the Boss?, Diff’rent Strokes, Good Times, Happy Days
Girlfriends, The Jeffersons, Seinfeld, Cosby
Saved by the Bell, Bernie Mac, Steve Harvey
My Wife and Kids

The life I live, is semi-sorta Godly

Some of y’all hardly working, me I’m working hardly

I’m partly Barkley, Garvey, Marley
Sorry

For crashing this non-lyricist party

My mental, it’s sharp as a Ginsu, but harsh and offensive

I spark instrumentals, it’s hard but essential, my target is simple

With all that I been through, my heart isn’t gentle, I harnessed potential

And studied flows, even borrowed like rentals

From different emcees, yes each bar is eventful

I mixed CNN, Vh1 with Comedy Central

Then added BET, A&E, Showtime, Lifetime

Playboy, Fox and I channel Pac when I write rhymes

My patterns are real tricky

They’re simple, but complex

Who could flip any concept?

Whether sky lounge, party jet, rooftop pub, it don’t matter how high the bar’s set

Y’all don’t hear me

It’s a different day now

Game-change music, let me just explain how

I elevate the level, and I educate whoever, since the kids are out here spelling like the Chick-fil-a cows

Rap ain’t helping, I just add to the drama

Your daddy left and now you’re mad at your mama

I’m glad and I’m honored, to tell you you can make it, as a graduate scholar

You can take the path of Obama, or Mario Chalmers

I have to be honest

With all of these scriptures that I just rapped to you

Half of you may not get it, or have the aptitude

Other half are stuck with that hater, debater attitude

And I could be the greatest, I’m nothing to Maya Angelou

And everything she brought to the world

I rock wife-beaters but I never tortured my girl

I get sicker with every minute, doesn’t force me to hurl

But it could fetal position you, you ball up and curl

A lot of dudes want to act like Deebo…Tyson

Real life similar to Peabo…Bryson

I touch down like an eagle…viking

Steeler…titan, see my writing

At times it sounds extra pissed, ’cause you don’t know me

On beats I’m affectionate, the drums hold me

And the hi-hats whisper, and I kick it with the kicks

Have discussions with percussion

Treat the music like a chick, I tell ‘em…

I feel better than massage parlors

Once I start giving orders like The Godfather

And I make her breathe like I’m her Lamaze partner

Even though I’m never home like your car charger

My flow is beautiful…

I put letters together to get numbers

You know, a Roman numeral…

Every beat you can throw a funeral

Love me or hate me, the feeling’s mutual

I show loyalty

If I worked at Burger King or Dairy Queen, I am still royalty

So how I’m still here is beyond me

Father, Son, Spirit, I’m embodying all three

So really

Messing with me, you must be on E

It’s like playing a game of horse, and you on E it’s over