[ VERSE 1: J. Sands ] If hip hop was a crime, I'd be a felon, sellin To all the conscious dope addicts, tragic, gotta have it Get no static, rhymes get ripped automatic Spray you from your feet to your cabbage Lyrically hit you with the spiritual, infrared won't miss Police lookin for the Catalyst Hah, usually on the blocks in your neighborhood When the flavor's good clientele's humunguous Pittsburgh, Columbus And all the other cities in the USA Networkin, soon to be worldwide for certain I know it's hurtin, competition creatin envy Sure they wanna end me when they see me in a Benzi Throw salt in my game, in my face act friendly That's why I play em close till they ass get ghost Ain't no love lost here, crampin my poster' This game is cutthroat, so I'ma aim at the utmost Spot, not knowing if I'm gonna get caught Be up in heaven, openin for Big and Tupac But that's the nature of it, some live, some kick the bucket I'd be a damn fool not to love it Right?
[ CHORUS (2X) ] Imagine that, if hip hop was a crime Would you stick and move, would you sell dimes? Or would you switch sides and play the role of po nine Blockin me from the go line Preventin me from gettin mine
[ J. Sands ] Everything is kosher, slayin punk MC's with my toaster Itchy finger on trigger got my rep bigger You should see em shiver knowin down deep I deliver Bulls eye, direct hit with hollow tip lyric Like the bully of the block all the kids fear it J. Sands is untouchable, how you hear it Echo wind through the hallways where I be all days Hustlin, ain't no small plate cause niggas always Wanna plot against the local cat with props Makin it harder to set up my shop upon the block Like a martyr I be in this war until I drop But if it ain't the haters it's the goddamn cops Stressin me, just so they can get some cream off the top Testin me, so now I gotta scheme, call the team Dante, [Name], J. Rawls and Raheem The ill syndicate, quick to light up the scene No prints, squeaky clean, toss the heat in the stream Rendez-vous somewhere serene around 12:15 See, if you don't hold it down, no one will hold it for ya So be sure to have a alibi plus a good lawyer
[ CHORUS (2X) ]
[ J. Sands ] See, niggas know my status, ghetto celeb' kingpin A hip hop's fiend friend who always seen in The fly b-boy attire receivin Praises from the holiest to the heathens It's all good cause what I provide is pleasin Comfortable, something your mind can ease in One try, then you find out the reason Why I got addicts for every season Summer, spring, winter, fall and even Leap years, you want that shit, then peep here You need $10 and some change for the exchange Then you'll have the ill sounds pumpin in your range Or your walkman, head bouncin type strange That's when you start to realize that your life is rearranged Don't go to work no more cause all you want is the pure Hip hop from the MC connoisseur So now you on missions headed to the record store Cop the product and beam up like never before Now you're hooked for life and there's no escapin us Cause one hit was too many, a million not enough