"I Give Up: 2003" genre: Rap
	lo fi play (dial-up) hi fi play (broadband)	email track to a friend	add to My.MP3
	CD: Special K
	Lyrics [Verse 1] When I rap, I try to rhyme my lines with three words "Please, my knees hurt" is a plea heard (She’s scurred!) Please her? Nah, she keeps squeezin' on deez Love ceases to exist like peace in the mid-east So back off my nuts cuz I ain't only about that Maybe once more, but make sure that the drought's back Go run and tell your friends how you sucked a star Now I'm broke; my raps sell at a buck a bar Cuz mad cats pretend like they ain't feelin' my spit Though they got all my songs and they sealed wit a kiss Then they pass my raps back to me; act like it matters But see, exact tracks is a latter form of flattery I wish I could quit rap and just go back To when I was punked just for buyin' a throw back But fans keep demandin' new tracks to be handed So I stand and deliver some slams below the liver Remember the days before algebra was heard of When every kid in the city had my songs turned up You couldn't go a week without soundin' my new track Always heard comments like, "How is this Jew black?" [Chorus] Givin' up ain't easy, you gotta believe me I said I'm done before; gotta walk out that door I give up, I give up, I give up, now I give up, I give up, I give up, now Y'all bringin' me under, just gotta surrender Pressure building; feeling's healing; gotta steal your splendor I give up, I give up, I give up, now I give up, I give up, I give up, now [Verse 2] Shakespeare knew what he was doin' when he screwed in a few loose ends So my view is this: the newest clips is skewed around his brewing I was too intent in pursuin' a debut of my doing Who knew that I would glue together two clues that just flew in He had verses and sonnets; soliloquies, I was on it I just wanted to spawn a verse but cursed at the vomit So I took the A.B.A.B. and expanded off that wit Back to back to back, my tactic slapped a hat trick I got outta the gutter and put my talent to use I see a kid in the streets who wanna be gallant, too And the will is this ill is not to kill you with skill His pen is still until he drills a thrillin' piece of- But he don’t gotta chance; hopes and cares disappear I sincerely fear it's clear he'll never get into gear It seems he's between leanin' towards some screamin' and a tear He's gotta stay clear fore you get to thinkin' he's a queer Then he hears these violent specks of heckles from the crowd He wrestles with himself like Hyde and Jeckyll used to cloud He expects to be respected like a misdirected clown But I vow now never to let you get me down Moral of the story is I'm already history Tomorrow we'll quarrel cuz you was already sick of me So I make a couple mil, but it ain’t about the cash It's about the stress pimples that all sprout on your ass They there cuz of me and I don't wanna hear different Cuz when I'm on the mic, I'll be sincere and not shiftin' it So I don't wanna hear it when this record your dissin' Cuz I give up now for good--it’s the second edition [Chorus] (2x)

Copyright notice. All material on MP3.com is protected by copyright law and by international treaties. You may download this material and make reasonable number of copies of this material only for your own personal use. You may not otherwise reproduce, distribute, publicly perform, publicly display, or create derivative works of this material, unless authorized by the appropriate copyright owner(s).