Artist: PRhyme f/ Black Thought Album: PRhyme Song: Wishin' II * Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com * deluxe edition bonus track [Intro: DJ Premier] PRhyme~! Adrian Younge, Royce Da 5'9", DJ Premier This song here was originally supposed to be done, with my man Black Thought Unfortunately, we lost a great man, Mr. Richard Nichols; R.I.P. To the legendary Roots crew, hold your head, we love y'all, you know? We all continue on, that's how life's supposed to be And that's how we treat life So, one day, 'Riq gave me a call He said "Yo, that joint you did with Common, y'all still wanna do a remix to that?" By the way, shout to Common, congratulations on that Oscar my nigga John Legend, big up, word I said, "Yeah yeah, when you wanna do that?" He said "Yo, I'll come over right now!" Oh yeah? Well step inside the booth Yo 'Riq, it's go time, "Wishin': Part II" [Black Thought] Yo, the voice of the announcer signin off Salvador, a connoisseur, a hot monologue Rachmaninoff, livin life not by the law And I'm a product of that Rakim God Allah Forensic files leavin 'em disemboweled, '87 style They chance slimmer, than Reverend Al or Kevin Liles Some friends are vile, still be peddlin vials off 11 Mile They wishin you would, you prolly better reconcile The dark side of to who they risin in prominence My crown's taller than Suleiman of the Ottomans Wiser than Solomon, mobilizin the followin They try and give me the Nobel Prize for novelists Peace to cats that rock MAC knowledge knowledges Hood astrologists, illegal anesthesiologists Yo, el elefante, Belafonte Keep a regimen ready to give 'em hell if PRhyme say... Yo, post traumatic stress, I wear it as a family crest I murder at its best, words that'll manifest Causin cardiac arrest, Budapest to Marrakesh My slang Bangladesh, my gang Clarence X I'm life after death, the last laryn-x Lettin every other rapper know they better wear a vest I'm pullin in 200,000 for appearances I wrote a song about it, here it is Yo, the creature feature search a preacher, teacher Torch, capture, rupture, rapture, reach her Deplete ya, he defeat ya, speak the ether Sneak then creep ya, say no peace to meet ya Can't nobody get with me, strong suits from Italy Chill, humility, what I'm all about's, ability Yo, I wish a nigga would bring the hostility though, you know how them boys from Philly be I'm like cyanide creepin through the air ducts And I got a foul mouth, tell 'em kids earmuffs When I was at school I was who to steer clear of Smokin reefer in a bathroom, sippin Smirnoff When it came time for the pictures in the yearbook I was up in Paris like an +American Werewolf+ Years later, yo I'm an American hero vs. evil like, Deerhoof If I let the bear woof They don't recognize me when I'm shoppin up in Berdgdorf They just know I'm flier than a muh'fuckin airport Therefore they say I'm a sartorial gear whore, yo [Royce Da 5'9"] Uhh, ascots on the tailored suits You artists throwin bands, the radio like they made you you I'm lookin for artists on stages to throw tomatoes to The way I act you think I'm banned from radio, like Trae Tha Truth I don't really care nigga, I'm getting in I gotta see since the three V-twizzy Benz I'm sitting in I-I-I don't give a fuck, any DJ anywhere, I'll-I'll give 'em as a triple dare I'll tie him to a swivel chair, I'll give him spins Ha ha, I'll give him grins and count dividends and Ask around 'bout them D-Town niggaz that'll leave you with a concert full of dead fans and bloody merch Smokin dope that's ille', that's the color perp, you might wanna study first Every verse lyrical but nutty first Every verb and every word is like a +Speeding Bullet+ 'bout to chop your body in half while it's on the way +To Heaven+ like, Kid Cudi's shirt Shit could be a hit but it's gotta be muddy first I rap with a sickness card, Iraq pistol pullin private Shh, Chris I think I got the Gully curse Underground, underrated, y'all keep diggin for answers like the route to cancer I keep turnin Premo beats into chemo treatments I keep wiggin like a hoop to Andrew I'm clumsy when I shoot, oops, I'll bet your crew is scrambled I don't write for limelight I shine the rhyme light down then I'll produce a scandal I'm what your baby moms would do for cameras I'm leavin everything from the marriage to her little cooch in shambles Your posse even get in my brawl while your posse'll perish Your posse'll become the posse up there I'm outlinin all of they bodies in chalk Settin fire to 'em to the chocolate on top like chocolate eclairs The outfit and jacket is bail staff - while we in the air it's Yahtzee on Lears And when we land we on yachts sayin grazie to the mail staff Muah, kiss my ass, y'all can go to hell fast I'm just ready for whatever hell brings - focus man Gettin closer to that real money like Gayle King - that's Oprah's friend I think of nightmares that'll ruin your dreams And I just went shoppin in China, yeah I flew with the team Fuck a translator, I speak fluent cha-ching Y'all holdin shit down with a selfie stick I'm flyin some shit out of Harvie Nichols and Selfridges Even when me and Shady was Abel and Cain We worked our magic separate like Angel and Blaine We came into this game with a Navy like Baby and Wayne Now every pair of glasses I have has a crazy insane Jazze Pha gradient frame The least most amazing vehicle I have is a lease though It's a beast 4-80 and change Y'all tryna pick up Bieber and Drake fans Not me, but I'm in the streets though like a Canadian crane To elaborate is to annihilate, please don't make me explain Come get yo' bitch, 'fore I make her smile, ha 'Fore I perform a bunch of acts on her like "Saturday Night Live" then take a bow Like Kenan Thompson, I don't believe in nonsense I don't got no felonies on my record, I just got a fleeing conscience I'm just out here spendin money like I'm bein sponsored I'm just on my Philly crime shit My ice cold Jack Frost mind, my +Black Thoughts+ are my only real in kindness While I'm on... {*fades out*}