Because I do believe in folklores, because a folk or a
 folk whore messed up his world
 with a word or more
 so furthermore call her life
 with a slice of love for the
 wife the hip hop drop top
 so drop her top and her bottom 4 lines to make love to her
 vibes jus 1 more time
 and in the morning make love
 pressed against her lips so when i woke the mic replaced her finger tips
 sippin up a few sips more
 so wen she spoke beats hit the floor
 and wen the tears splashed synthesized cries for the emcees who died
 word to paradox emotion took off like flies
 so please forgive the long soliloquy
 forgive the silly mannerisms here to over power me
 to give these silly little rants with these silly little
 rapper hands
 jaws drop wen i caught her by a glance
 to get in line for my chance
 as impossible it seems
 I still asked her for the last dance
 we bowed out in the night sky
 when tears dried wen i told her it would be alright
 we made rhythm for the vision
 we tucked in the curses for the verses
 and rehearsed a different version
 so we can create the sounds of a virgin
 yet to be touched and yet we all know shes never
 heard enuf
 Shes only seen in my dreams in between
 every scene in my bed sheet
 pretty feet and foot notes
 help remember what i wrote
 so when i awoke with a new song
 in reality she helps 2 sing along
 shes never seen only heard
 through headphones alone
 over
 over saturated party zones
 or even speaker phones
 or on the t.v. misrepresented now by them or we,
 we turned her out, no doubt we turn her up
 turn it off when we don't agree with her new song soft
 with her touch to my vision and my rough for the ruff draft
 I kiss her sound touch her mic for the craft
 she made it possible for us to dwell in the same room
 and look pass differences that we still resume
 so never press pause for the cause
 cuz wen the music plays it distracts me to have a good day
 i continue to let her disrobe
 recount the first time her sound waves passed through my ear lobe
 rememberin the first time
 wen she let the beat drop to tell
 me yes you "quote" the world is mine
 her birth is unknown
 un-natural clones grown in her place to try to taker her throne
 but we the underground lost or found
 whether money made or respect gained will never let her get away
 pieces ripped from her by the ones who passed away
 and their mics buried under tones
 and rip rib Lip to producers still bangin beats under grave stones yo f them ringtones