Artist: N.O.R.E. (P.A.P.I) 
Album:  Student of the Game
Song:   Student of the Game
Typed by: Gemini_20502K@Yahoo.com

{Cookin Soul}

[Intro: N.O.R.E.]
Hip Hop!

[Verse One: N.O.R.E.]
I feel like somethin special 'bout to happen
Queens nigga but the meetings be up in Manhattan
Move the packs fast hoops ain't full crick
We up to cook another one, bullshit
We should have the hood olympics, a cook off
Let's see which coke is terrific, and who is gifted
With the coffee pot, baking soda, cookie jar
That'll separate the hustlers from the rookies y'all
I knew enough spanish not to get jerked when I bought work
Plus plus, plus I let my gun off berserk
Got my cousins in the Pink Houses, never had a job niggas
They was into murderin, kidnaps and rob niggas
I was to rhyme as a hobby in my buildin lobby
Fuckin up ounces, take it back to quarters then
Wholesales from StarKim, even shark watermen
Fast forward, got locked for a shootin
Hit Spafford, back when Latin Kings first recruitin
Locked in the zone, mind separate, guidance counselor
I went to school with a weapon, not for protection
Just to show it off, but I'm a really use it
The power of the gun, it gave me strength, I would abuse it
I never ever ever thought I'd make it out in music
Started writin rhymes harder, and to vision the youth
Locked up, readin Donald Goines's books
Expandin my imagination, I got creative with the pen though
Started writin rhymes 'bout the streets, that was simple
My persona identified
Hood pride, logical, wrote about the blocks, streets and the obstacles
Man, this shit work when you think about it
I mean I still get money when you think about it
Rap, probably saved my life twice with it
I'm still nice with it, let's forget all the ice with ice
Forget my accolades, and other big things I did
I was a wild kid, I would've ran up in yo' crib
Remember War Report? CNN legacy 
Hip Hop pedigree, rhymes is a felony
Student of the game, I take responsibility
Give me tranquility so niggas can't belittle me
I'm still doin what I do way past you
This album's from the heart, sort of feel like I have to
Prove shit, do the new shit
And the true school shit, wild with the deuces
Little guns for little duns gala
Blade black, in a leather couch, marijuana
Eye vision clearer, I love who I see in the mirror
I couldn't make that clearer
Try to compete with a real street nigga
Doin street shit, you as soft as aloe vera huh?

[Outro: Cookin Soul Scratchin
S-S-Somethin special 'bout to happen
Q-Q-Q-Q-Queens nigga, I'm still nice with it
C-C-C-C-Cook another one
S-Separate the hustlers from the rookies y'all
C-CNN-C-C-CNN legacy
Hip Hop-Hop pedigree, r-r-r-r-rhymes is a felony
S-S-Still doin what I do
True-True-True school shit
Real-Real-Real-Real-Real street niggas