Bragging Writes (instrumental) Songtext
von J‐Live

For underground metaphors
You can scrape an inch below the turf for what it's worth
My style's been developed in the core of the Earth
The exhales volcanic the inhale is seismic

So brothers, just panic when he Live one arrives
With the natural ability to run through your crew
From 2 1 4 to 2 1 3 to 2 1 2, in other words from Dallas to L.A.
To the place where J stay, everyday is mayday

So you can talk your trash on how you're wettin' MC's
With mad blood stains but I'll bet you can't stand the rain
I look upon your brain with disdain
Go back and reflect on my endeavors black I can't complain

It's like a raw deal, consistent with the way I make you feel
The ends stay revealed while the means I conceal
And those who try to steal get decapitated
You wanna snatch my H2O type flow, but it evaporated


I displays my credentials over instrumentals
And my potential, increases at a rate that's exponential
It's detrimental questionin;'my thesis
The penetration's exact, like amniocentesis

I rip your rhyme to pieces after drainin' out your fluid
My vocab is fluent yours is evident of being truant
I know you wanna make moves but son you best
To take a second look before my knight takes your rook

'Cause everybody's rappin' and only few can flow
So why the hell they tryin' to deal with Live? I don't know
I handle true MC's on their block or at their show
So if you come with bull kid, keep it on the low

'Cause yo, I got the hair splittin', self-written unbitten style that
Leaves the competition runnin' scared and shakin' in their pants
You best to set it off cause black it aint no second chance
Once I'm open, all you doin' is hopin' that the Live one
Will put the mic down but son don't try to snatch it after

The laughter won't cease from the comparison
How dare you, son, step around the booth when I'm on
The microphone magician says poof, you're gone with the wind
There's no trace of your friends cause you don't know
Where the beginning ends or where the end begins


But you see that's the difference, you get sold, I get paid
Black I told you, get paid if you're broke I'll have to rain on your
Parade, you belong in special ed if you think you got it made
J-Live with the mic is like the chef with the blade 'cause suckers
Get sliced and sauteed, yeah, you thought your joint was fly
But the flight was delayed because

'Cause everybody's rappin' and only few can flow
So why the hell they tryin' to deal with Live? I don't know
I handle true MC's on their block or at their show
So if you come with bull kid, keep it on the low

'Cause everybody's rappin' and only few can flow
So why the hell they tryin' to deal with Live? I don't know
I handle true MC's on their block or at their show
So if you come with bull kid, keep it on the low

'Cause yo, I take the gray matter of pretenders
Through my mental blender and then return to sender
My pen don't pretend to offend, I intend to render MC's
Hangin' loose like a fender bender
I recommend regardless of your gender

That you strike messin' with J-Live from your agenda
And remember that whoever lends a helpin' hand
To defend you will get burned to a cinder as I end
The reign of wack MC's with their suicidal tendencies
Renderin' me sick with the thoughts of killin' enemies

But then I return to reality metaphorically murderin' MC's
When they battle me, you can't rattle me
I'm not your average snake slitherin' through the grass
I surpass the serpent as I head to class
You consider me crass as I wax that ass, style's no joke
But you best believe I gets the last laugh