Check Your Self
(written, performed + produced by chi turner)
© 2011 IHC RENRUT PUBLISHING


(Please get this shit. Tired of this f*kin shit.)

You know it’s hot??!!

Laugh out loud.
I still sound naïve bringing intelligence thru gunplay
Like gunning your down giving me something to say?
Peace…ie [is that peace or piece?]
I control streets; I control who eats?

(nah)

Mathematics?
On.
It still is religion x economy = belief system.
Halftime?

Until somebody hear this right,
Now you know what’s wrong:
More clientele ain’t peace no more

How the f*k is gat rhymes wettin girls’ sex pieces?
WTF is goin on?
Over throw that, G.
String attached? Sorry yall.

Now get the f*k outta there.
Write some rhymes on some next shit, and stop tryin to sound political like you know shit.

STOP FOOL!!

You ain’t cool.
I ain’t payin 2 cents for “associated press” [aka rumors for] news.
(huh??)
Your artistry courtesy of Reuters [rooters] and Madoff [mad off].
Stop playin, stop playin…stop playin!!!

“Stop that.
Stop talking, that’s bullshit.
That’s iddy-biddy rhyming; little n*@#$, that’s bullshit.
You ain’t got no chains?
Ain’t nobody listenin.
And you ain’t on NO block.
Check your self. You trippin.
We put you AND your checkers 6 deep in a box.
And we see your pen runnin outta ink; you suck.
Hope you enjoy the smoke.
Mic fiends, we winnin.
Nah, you ain’t on the block.
Check your self. You trippin.”

Nah, don’t mind the chorus baby.
Essence (is) oppression and freedom…live and direct, I hear it ALL.
The time check??
Sometimes I have to let it out so you know exactly what I’m talkin bout.

I deal with it.
Learning how to live?
At least 2 sides for you and your connects to:
• breathe in
• break down
• dissect
• see

In the interest of building real love?
For the children, I present this dailybread for grown folks out there still healing.
WHEW!!!
Gotta lotta words.
(The) keep it simple is: All these changes, they do occur
So now we gonna see what your words is worth.

I ain’t gotta “Rush” (label, manage or hurry) it.
I got time, long life, influences.
This is mind.

I love my folks; love my music.
Even bein exiled from the root?
This is what it is.
Here!!

“Stop that.
Stop talking, that’s bullshit.
That’s iddy-biddy rhyming; little n*@#$, that’s bullshit.
You ain’t got no chains?
Ain’t nobody listenin.
And you ain’t on NO block.
Check your self. You trippin.
We put you AND your checkers 6 deep in a box.
And we see your pen runnin outta ink; you suck.
Hope you enjoy the smoke.
Mic fiends, we winnin.
Nah, you ain’t on the block.
Check your self. You trippin.”