| Yo, it’s night time, I can’t sleep
|
| My pens beggin' me to write rhymes
|
| Cory’s a felony despite time
|
| I embrace the urge, on the tip of my tongue
|
| I taste the words, a story is born, my glorious song
|
| Hip Hop cannot ignore me for long
|
| I know her last man abused her, I can’t refuse her
|
| Alotta niggas used her, treated her like shit even confused her
|
| She had class now she sellin' it all for cash
|
| When Marley had her, her face was more pure body fatter
|
| Primo treated her good, made her the queen in my hood
|
| She used to be out in Queens with DMC
|
| And on the rooftop with Big, Fritz, and R. P
|
| She was fly she kept her shit tight
|
| Yo if he didn’t go to jail dun, she mighta been Slick Rick’s wife
|
| Disappeared a few years, she was «Stranded On Death Row»
|
| Dre had her on anotha level in the west coast
|
| She met a lame with with a drug dealer name
|
| He had her locked for a while, but then his whole style changed
|
| You know the wisdom is reflectin' the knowledge when it’s manifested
|
| If not fed in due time the mind is anorexic
|
| You understand the message
|
| I know I’m gettin' too deep for some
|
| Rhyme -- Uncut raw, the beat numb
|
| Back to the subject in hand, I called her, and said I miss her
|
| Stop fuckin' with my fake crew cuz they dissed her
|
| Then along came the R, remindin', her of her essence
|
| RZA said she like a sister blessin' her with lessons
|
| She was stressed because she missed Pac
|
| She still crying after B.I.G. |
| died askin' «When will this shit stop?»
|
| I love her like a mother, my physical path
|
| She even overlooked the fact about my criminal past
|
| And stayed with me in jail beyond gates visitors passed
|
| No longer is she lettin' niggas fuck her just for cash
|
| Whats her name dun? |
| *Echoed* |