Creativity is the daughter of strife and the bride of life itself,
Exist in two states like water and ice,and realize these hells,
My eyes, they spell, put alphabets into words I pronounce,
I curse and I pounce, when I write a verse and announce,
What I announce in verse,like I'm in court under oath,
Like a fountain,that bursts,then floats under smoke,
Or just dust that rose from the marble and stone that collapsed,
When I bust that flow, I go from my dome,yall flow from your ass,
Like the hoes and the cash,but what the hoe look like?
And did yall notice the cash, the serial numbers don't look right,
Hip hop was born in africa,kats used it to pass on messages in code,
So you get agressive with your flow,but I'm sensing it's a load,
Of bullshit,coming out a bull's ass after it eats,
Yall use effects like gunshots and laughter,it's sweet,
But to create,you must first be creative, you see,
Let me now give you a sample of what creativity be,
When the sun shines on the grass after the grass got wet with the dew,
When you get rhymin' on tracks,that's what i'm expecting from you,
The feeling of pure truth,of god's work in front of our eyes,
So when you do secure booth,I advise you to hunt for the cries,
Of the forefathers whose souls still float in the sky,
You can drink all you can and smoke till you die,
But you won't be high as that, it's like the heavens descended on earth,
When you spit as fly as that,then you sense that all of your work,
Upto this point is but a shadow of the tail of the dragon,
Then you spit on this joint,flow is hallowed,like the visions they say they imagine,
At the end, the white light, you can see that everytime that you spit,
And then you can brag about how your rhyming is sick.