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Jack of All Trades
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Aceyalone
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1
[Chorus]
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I'm the jack of all trades, master of one
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Black and underpaid, blastin this mic gun
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Put it to your temple, and pop yo' pimple
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Break you down like kempo, I'm trained in the arts
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[Aceyalone]
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I specify in rockin my page from the heart
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I dig down deep within my psyche
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Information excites me, the knowledge invites me
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When I, throw on my Nike's and step to it nicely
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Huh, it's unlikely any man could out-mic me
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Lightning, please strike me like it did when I was a child
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Hit me with a hundred thousand volts and make me smile
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You name it I can aim it, catch it and tame it, explain it
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Take it and paint it in beautiful technicolor
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Directly from another place you could expect no other
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To stand by these trues and break these rules
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We defy the laws of cool and sang these blues and bring this news
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[Chorus]
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[Aceyalone]
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I'm that hip-hop SPOKESman, I ain't a coke man
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A good folks man, he reached for the mic and broke his hand
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It's not my problem, it's not my fault
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It's not my concern, I don't give a shit about
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Them dirty fingers, reachin for the scepter
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All up in yo' head but I'm not Dr. Lector
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Or Dr. Phil, but I still got to kill
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white widdle, black widdle, fat little pill
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To take for your enjoyment, to get psychadelic
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I don't sell it I spill it out, and tell it so angelic
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My rap gat makes your brain splat
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Blow up, everything that's holdin up your hat
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It's firin the pistons gas, in the engines
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Fuck a foot in the door, we takin off the hinges
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When my, dash is broken, glass is broken
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And class is open, and it's still left smokin
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[Chorus]
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[Aceyalone]
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Okay Mr. Pick to Ten, is it sickenin?
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What kind of little box you thinkin in? Think again
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Draw a blank, you saw a tank
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But didn't see my soldiers on the flank movin up another rank
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The Hip-Hop Hall of Fame went up in flames
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When they, mention my name it's tension in they brains
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An extension of the game and, I stake this claim
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And break these chains and this one's for the last train
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I'm the jack of all trades, master of one
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And the thing I mastered is blastin this mic gun
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Put it to your temple, and pop yo' pimple
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Break you down like kempo, I'm trained in the arts
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We got one verse left to rock this beat
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And separate the good shit from the weak
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So, get in the groove, and feel the sound
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And once you're inside spread yourself around
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From the bottom to the top, top, to the bottom
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I'm, gonna rock 'em, while, I still got 'em
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I rock this hour with style and power
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And this, is yo' MC hour
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I don't know if, all of you have heard
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But it's up to YOU to rip.. {*vocals fade out*}
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