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Verse 1
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It was a summer mornin' at the age of eighteen
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I'll start the story in the shower singin' Microphone Fiend
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Tryna figure my routine for the day
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There's mad things to do with no delay
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In preparation for this jam around the way
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I'm steppin' out the shower
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Crossin' out the calender
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Pickin' out the afro and pullin' out the gear
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I hear the same sounds every mornin'
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Sports centre, the traffic
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Your mom dukes screamin' in my ear
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Dipped, yet my thoughts slip
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Thinkin' that my plans just barely coincide with my money clip
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But get a grip cos by the end of the day, bro
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Your pockets'll be a-ight, even before the crowd says 'A-yo!'
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I jet up to Lex, take the 6 to the R
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My journey wouldn't feel as far if I had a car
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5-O was there, so I paid my fare
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But I didn't care 'til he gave a glare, who you tryna scare?
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I'm passin' flyers to a crew of fly young sisters
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A chicken from my past is actin' crab, so I had to diss her
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My head bops and my fingers pops 'til I reach my stop
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Then I mush my way through to the record shop
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Can I get it one time for the selector?
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Does he come correct in your sector?
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Indoors or an outside jam
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Can I get it if ya understand?
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Verse 2
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As I exit stage right, lookin' forward to
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Can I Get It?
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| J-Live |
