The Uppercla** Men - Letter From The Delorean lyrics

Introduction Poem Issues of conspiracy weary my theories Spirits lifted and gifted to the lord I speak clearly Begging on my hands and knees that my heavenly fathers hears me Don't know which way to turn I'm confused and lifes scary Hurting from my endeavors not so clever eyes teary Road to fame,what's the directions plz steer me I've anaylzed I'm one hell of a sort of a guy Compromised by evil demons that cause me to lie Beaten, battered, bruised inside like a womans cry To recognize what life is about I know I'm blowing your minds Spark like the 4th of july If you look in the dictionary know I can't be defined I can't be defined HD I'm talking to myself schizoprehnia disabled Many years ahead, play these cards you'll run the table Holding a bag of chips, while you flipping these poker chips Counting down the hours, down to the minute, that this is it Timing is everything but this ain't Hyundai Especially when you dont even have enough for a bus ride Bills are due, but no babies on the way Only thing you trying to birth is throne seats next to Jay At the Barclay, With the lights low With my Spirits High, No regrets though You put it all on the line but the tracks got hurdles Trying to run the course but your demons running in circle Your brightest days ahead and your Dark Nights Present Gotta scare these crows away your pockets dry as the desert It's the d**h Valley Rally, And the heats on Falsetto You took that Drive and got right up out the ghetto Time after time, failure after failure But thats only measured by your server, Don't tip the waiter Many nights, looked to sky but your the savior Carried your dreams across the seas like a freighter Now that precious cargo, turned into Escargot And non-believers move like snails to the sold out shows So sip that Bordeaux slow And hold your chalice to the sun cause your the one, Go Mr. Harris Verse The real MCcoy intellectual little boy 296 sutter ave apt 3c watching MTV on your parents tv Zone out in the future he knows that he want to be me From beat boxing and spitting rhymes with music you intertwined cold hard facts this is art design An mc labeled a microphone chemist Sit back and watch haters diminish Nah nah! I'm not finish,presence seemed to be lifted Told friends you rapped they laughed as there feelings shifted Don't put your head down in grief because your gifted Becoming a famous artist purpose for your existence- Don't mind what ppl say you counter clock your decisions Stay focus at what you do prepare for fames collision Eliminate negativity while on the mission You plan,you plot,you watch,observe conditions One day it'll come into fruition,man are you kidding Don't cut around difficult task,rare circumcision This here is your inception,practice at your profession The power of possession is the overall perception The sk** is the business,that's how you build a connection Success is the result, appreciate all your blessings Damn why I'm stressin! Damn why I'm stressin! Coy Gregory Harris I'm wishing you the best kid ---------------------------------------------------------- 2nd place is the first loser Never settled for less, gambled with life professional crap shooter How dare you awaken this blood thirsty pathogen Pupils are interscoped while i'm chasing this after math again But alas again, we live in a nation full of scum bags Hating, patiently waiting for you to start breaking Down, Had enough of you clowns, don't you throw rocks at this crown Hands the size of colossus, obnoxious and I'm knockin' you down Y'all can dish it but never take it Hope your music never sees the light of day, Pray you fail and never make it Don't ever hand me success ill take your hand and break it Always wrote my own rhymes don't ever mistake it Late nights and hard work to my anatomy Mirrored future awards, the crystal balls says ill make it Don't you ever question what he got Causing solar storms that'll burn Apollo's chariot, HOT! I'm here now this is your fault Jumping over you chumps like its the pole vault HD Verse 2 + The fruits of your labor turned into suits by Don Draper - With Cases of 'Tois, By the Bar, Goin' Gorilla - Donkey Kong Simian, Banks like Vivian - the land before time, this was mine call it Corinthian - now the mantles covered with metal - Cellar dwellars to top sellers, so stay leveled - We own the top floor, AC, playing at Revel>> - Doing Sold Out Shows from Monaco to Monticello + Moved on up like Mr. Jefferson - On the couch, running your mouth to Mr. Letterman - And your Momma's backstage - drinking on champagne thats twice her age - So no matter the gla** raise it in the air - The cloth you were cut from is a fabric so rare - You'll wake up one morning and the feeling won't compare>> - One day you'll be living this and i'll be standing there