Freshdopedope

(album: No Man's Land - 1990)

Yeah
Souls of Mischief in the house
Hieroglyphics turn it out
Do it like this
Knowmsayin
Uh
We just came out, you know
But we been doin this for a while
But I ain't really trippin, I ain't, you know...
Man

I started writin rhymes in 1982, I was 8
My older brother used to let me hear his Too $hort tapes (Biatch)
Sugarhill and Spoonie G was with me
'Bout anything I could I get
Was non-stop in my cassette
Or on my phonograph
But in 9-4 I gotta hold my laugh
In, I be cappin
At this wave of overnight rappin
How dare you defy me, you're tiny
Writin your first raps in 1990
You're blindly behind me
I did so many fucked up shows for no cash
Why you wanna diss a player? Cause you slow and I'm fast
Blast fast raps through the mass
To surpass, movin ass
Why diss a nigga cause he makin his cash?

Do it like that
Since I was fresh off the tit my tact
For wordplay unmatched
Rappin nerd straight from back
In the present pressin
Only irreverent, just hatched
Fledgling sack-peddlin
Give me some tracks pal, I rap now
Section of the population
Plus the ones on the idiot box
Showin it pays to be a buster, tittes and cocks
Expose we all some hoes or hustlers
Glocks ammo, no love for any other motherfucker
Is that real or fiction?
Made for TV reels, depictions
Of the life you're wishin
To lead or led before you grab the mic
Hieroglyphics like 3 to your head
Ignite to all
You best to pray you stay raw

You wanna be (Fresh) (Dope)
Tryina be (Fresh) (Dope)
Never be (Fresh) (Do-do-dope)
Never gon' be

You wanna be (Fresh) (Dope)
Tryina be (Fresh) (Dope)
Never be (Fresh) (Do-do-dope)
Never gon' be

I used to envision the mic in my hand
Rockin shows, avoidin the gold diggers
Had it all planned out
On a collision course to fail, no doubt
The non-believers shout:
Them niggas ain't makin no mail
Now it's about pounds and peace signs
Since we got a contract
We track through that bullshit
Adapted to rap and act
Sacrificial MC's believe
Souls of Mischief strap 'em down to receive
They blessin
Through the chest and out the back
Like that, then slide with your title intact
Hieroglyphics caused a chain reaction back then
Y'all niggas wasn't rhymin but now it's the trend

So just blend
With the mask galvanized
But my style disguise you pseudo MC's
Plastic over mastic bitin
Molding yo tongues
While amongst the Soul searchers sarcastic
When you was askin was we cashin
In on all this rappin, inquirin
You wasn't aspirin to bein nothin
Now desirin, opposition co-conspirin
Switched to hip-hop, yeah
It's funny mo' niggas know me better than ever
More niggas see me actin like they don't know me than ever
I never waste my time
Tryina refresh they memories
I'm in the breeze, controllin MC's
Like machines cybernetic, psychokinetic
Souls of Mischief seize the mic and shred it
Like this

You wanna be (Fresh) (Dope)
Tryina be (Fresh) (Dope)
Never be (Fresh) (Do-do-dope)
Never gon' be

You wanna be (Fresh) (Dope)
Tryina be (Fresh) (Dope)
Never be (Fresh) (Do-do-dope)
Never gon' be