Testo Minstrel Show

Verse 1:
Check it. Time is of the essence./
The present. It'll leave me in a second./
I'm dissipatin'. Watch me fade like evanescence./
I die but gain life by killin' time on this record./
See all my life I had to fight/
To keep my spirit in the right/
Place to displace hate and taste faith/ Even when my palate was boint up by the hot plate./
But at any time at any junction/
The Devil'll step to me. Try me like a punk son./
The Devil revel adding' dys to my function./
The Devil bezelled out. With every sin bruh his check come./
But real talk that ain't the check I want my signature on though./
A black face on the stage the crowd lookin' like/
See that nigger jig yo it's funny watch him jig yo./
Shoot. Won't be me. I'm not your minstrel show./

Hook:
I hustle (I Hustle). I grind (and I grind)/
And just like you I've got my money on my mind (I've got my money on my mind)./
But I won't let the money make me blind (won't let the money make me blind)./
Got too much pride to have a hand up my behind (it won't me be)./ (Repeat)

Verse 2:
Oh Geppetto I wish I was a real boy/
With my own mind and emotions I could deploy./
So when the terrorists attack imagination/
I can declare war. Prepare for annihilation./
But you can call me a dreamer/
Though I chase after that dream with all the strength up in my femurs/
'Cuz wearin' strings gets ya Benzes and Beamers./
So string me up and ask me 'bout Unique'a. Never seen her./
But it's a shame that all the artistry is gone./
Somebody comes with something' fresh but grows a bunch of clones/
That follow tomorrow with hollow ambition./
As we swallow the load somebody piggy bank is fillin'./
Oh no. We've got an imitation overload./
I'm foamin' at the mouth from imitation overdose./
Po' Sambo rap me another verse./
And Aunt Jemima sang the hook. We've got a hit but what's that worth./

Hook:

Verse 3:
So I guess this makes me the witch up on the broom/
'Cuz I'm sweepin' all the dirt into the center of the room./
You can almost smell the toil and the trouble from my brew./
I'll get you my pretty and your little rappers too./
But here's something'. Bet my rappin' doesn't make the grade./
Hmm F minus. D. Somewhere between that range./
Yeah I figure but any chance of getting' played?/
Ehh about that naw. You're a little strange./
So bump this bump truth and bump you/
'Cuz I'ma bump the beats that bump bump like hearts do./
From now on when I spit I'ma spit it for me/
And give a spit about what anyone thinks/
'Cuz I'm free... and I'ma do me./

Hook: