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Artist: PRhyme f/ Black Thought
Album:  PRhyme
Song:   Wishin' II *
Typed by: 

* 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*}