BLUEPRINT - 1988 lyrics

rate me

Uh-huh, yeah

Printmatic, you know the name

Behind the curtain like the Hunchback of Notre Dame

I'll steal the show, then your dame

This nigga down like dropping off in the pouring rain

My mind stays stuck on filth

Black cheerleaders *and trying to fuck MILFS*

*You salty* cause I got your moms on tilt

You found out it wasn't toothpaste on her quilt

Sue me, I told you that you sorry

But Billy Blanks got you thinkin' that you know Karate

I need to know I play matchmaker as a hobby

I can introduce speed knots, to your body

You wanna playa hate, we can take it back to '88

My *catelogue is analog dog, all cassette tapes*

And I hope to god you're a scholar

Cause before I test your rhymes I'm a test your knowledge

Crush any attempts to act brolic

You the kinda dude I used to *have to yoke* up in college

Hands around you, fucked like a dome collar

Over some small shit like 50 dollars

You don't want that dude to come outside again

For real... You better stay in the pocket

Uh huh, yeah... hah

I used to be a purist

About the records I've been coppin'

Don't nobody care about that shit unless the beat knocks

Sometimes I'm on some bassline, 808 shit

Now I'm on some old dirty drum-break shit

No denyin'

Most people listen to their music while they're drivin

So the next time you think you got a classic

Throw *it in the ride* and listen to it in some traffic

Make sure you roll the windows down

Be honest about yourself about how your shit sounds

Life would be better if more people did that

I wouldn't have to *wade* through demo's full of crap

Too many wack rappers fuckin' up the game

Too many independant acts sounding the same

Poppin' shit on the net to get a name

Give props to eachother, sit around and complain

Your whole philosophy is flawed when your top 10

Is full of cats you know, and nobody that I heard before

I need to understand I'm not new to this

You *rhyme* for 2 bars I know all your influences

And ain't none of them tight

You all need to put down the fuckin' mic

Sounding corny shit..

Stay in the pocket

Thanks to Ben Hazelman for these lyrics