Presidential Pondering

Lyrics

Yo if I said it then I don't regret it Every is copacetic, flow poetic Ahead of my time cause I'm so prophetic And I hope you let it sink through your dome piece Jerome be out of touch, but we still homies I said that in another song And just because you did a couple of good deeds don't mean do a couple wrong Got my buckle on, cause it's a rough ride of life The fight, make sure that your knuckles strong Got my scuffle on, it's only natural But nowadays niggas 13 trying to clap with you You ain't a rapper, you more like an actor Who smile in my face, but talk shit like them clackers do And it's a fact that dude been through a lot of shit No politics in college yet I promise get my product is Hotter than a lot of shit they telling you gotta get And I don't give a fuck, I went away on a scholarship I'm not legit, why, cause I want to get my education Trying to get my family out the ghetto, see some better days in Show love instead of hating Cause in the end it ain't about who make the cake the fastest But whose is better tasting This shit was devastating, could you imagine Your brother 21 on a stretcher taking medication And while you meditating, his soul is levitating That's why I need them Dead Presidents to represent me They say, Charles don't let the industry change you The fuck I'm supposed to be, the industry angel I look at life from an industry angle Now hang around, peep the shit I say to you Niggas know that's there's a million niggas better Moving cribs to get the cheddar How they feel is even better than the shit that be appealing to the masses So when you make it, it's the ceiling with your glasses Ask if niggas give a fuck if your bars is tough Cause niggas is hating hard as fuck The whole is Star and Buc Where only superstars get bucks And as far as us, we're scarred and touched by all the rough Points, we point them out in the music But we bring change man without the pollution I ain't mad at the South, I'm mad at the mouths Of these niggas, fuck y'all niggas rappin bout Nigga, I'll admit I don't have a straight bottom line But if I don't rhyme, I could die out of my mind I don't rap, I just blog on beat Harlem all on me, while I walk along in the street IPod on peak, I'm a goddong beast Playing my shit, I sing along on key Niggas stop me, yo Charles you back in the hood? Either they happy or wish I was back here for good Which is actually good, cause I act like I'm Suge You know my name, niggas don't touch me though they act like they could I'm a nigga, and you're the same shit What a shame, I'm in the same league as Hurricane Chris Young nigga with a catchy ass single Something that comes across as a happy ass jingle But I'm a sarcastic-ass spastic, cracking tracks in half, smacking all rappers They crackerjacking, I'm an attacking ass bingle What type of snack is that, nigga give me a state I ain't on the level of legends, nigga give me a break A straight killa, J Dilla if you give me a break Can't stop, give me a break I won't sit and just wait 20 y-o, not Janet This nigga is great, you be spitting away Shit is ok, but I kill 80 niggas a day when I break I be spitting away My fucking album is me digging a grave Hip-Hop died, admit it, make a difference, get paid It's all a fucking auction 20 thousand for the man in the pink polo Going once, going twice, oh no he got it made Niggas is mad cause they sold soul Then they flop, mf's barely sold gold Pawning they rose gold for a fucking bag of Rold Gold And I'm the one making chips And I fucked up in the verse Doesn't even matter niggas get the point Charles Hamilton. Fedel. Demevolist, you already know