True Rhyme

[Intro: Divine]
Yeah...the saga begins, Divine Allah, Alterprod, let's go baby...

[1st Verse: Divine]
Yeah I’m known for spazzing out, known for blacking out/
When niggas is acting out, either rap or I’m clapping out
All facts when I’m rapping out, wit’ them rachets is rapid out/
My fashion is blasting out, ’till I’m lavish and cashing out
Got the call for the God, want raw for Alterprod/
They want them bars from Allah, it was carved in the stars
Its written, like I was spitting, from whipping up in the kitchen/
From the keeys I was flipping, to degrees, I envisioned
Life beyond them bars, from the soft white and hard/
Lifting in prison yards, bear witness, vicious facade
From the streets in the grind, my elite mystique would shine/
To beats, my mind design, show and prove in due time
While locked in prisons confined, I was held back, in fact/
Wrote raps, relaxed, waited for the day to blaze tracks
’Till the whole world would get it, either dead it or be kinetic/
So I’mma spit ’till my legacy lives, never forget it

[Hook 2X: Divine]
This is true rhyme, true crime, true Divine/
Get paid for my displays, way I move through the mind
My days ’ill shine, bless a pen wit’ a smooth grind/
You’ll get lost in my thoughts, but get it in due time

[2nd Verse: Divine]
My persona make ’em honor the God, all praises due to Allah/
Like Master Fard, the Avatar
Cash for bars or plastic cards, graphic facade/
Mastered the Psalms, at last, let it blast, I’m the bomb
Casual, calm, acknowledge the God, gentleman thug/
Blasting them arms, popping your squad, deading your buzz
My metal ’ill bug, for blood, I ain’t gentle wit’ slugs/
Wit’ guns in the club, the baddest bitches, fucking my thugs
Making ’em squirt, keep blazing, heat keep putting in work/
Underground, bust a round, kid, I’m deep in the dirt
It’s New York gritty, get murked in the livest city/
Ain’t nothing pretty, bezerk, if you ain’t riding wit’ me
You against my whole movement, my dudes ’ill lose it/
Soldiers ruthless, we respond, it’s beyond this music
So fuck rap for rap, we go gat for gat/
Bust at cats, get clapped, and, that is that

[Hook 2X]

[3rd Verse: Divine]
Its truth when hearing this, they lose comparing this/
My grammar is smooth, panoramic views is scandalous
When hammers is gripped, you know the crime writ, crime spit/
Spent banana clips, I hit, mind click, Divine sick
This wiser shit, liver kid, arrived from a bid/
I’m God, so I die hard, survived so I gotta live
My path is graphic, it’s, mathematics that fashioned it/
A lot of cats ’ill try to pattern it, they mind can’t fathom it
My status is blessed, divine God rap, the God back/
Pedigrees, Hennessy, French fine cognac
Spit science that, fire back, they call it fire crack/
Only strike on cordless mics, them Feds got them wire taps
While I calmly bomb shit, arsonist, fire weapons/
Write crimes, blow they mind, get it popping like 9/11
Shut New York City down, ’cause wherever I’m seen, a sign/
A New York gritty sound, I’m at the scene of the crime

[Hook 2X]

© 2010 4th Letter Music (BMI)/Supreme Music Publishing (BMI)