DEFENDER'S RAP

• Its the life, the heart of Harlem
• The deranged sociopath with a mental problem
• I'd call the blocks a big asylum I'm on
• Hear gunshots from a kindergartner
• Flexin choppers like mobsters
• Run up on a nigga while he wit his toddler
• I'm thinkin like a don, Shawn Carter
• But I'm the father who doesn't bother
• To check on his daughter, rather slaughter and martyr
• My sweetie turn on the TV see me wit two threes
• Shootin with ease till the police tell me cease fire
• I throw up my C's and leave, he'll get his appetizer
• Selling these L's got me designer
• I'm seen as a monster, not by the public but me
• Foresee what I see, a mind set free as an MC
• I'm friendly till I empty the clip, shootin straight from the hip
• Stat stat. Project is back, he lives by the cul de sac
• I pull two straps, watch the feds collapse, splat
• Such an image of abstract I attach
• When I talk about attacks and these ghetto stereotypes
• Its at aerial hype and nobody contrite to the ghetto life
•  
• This is my canvas, painting pictures and scriptures
• Something like Thriller but MJ wit scissors and delivers
• I'm no killer but I'm ill enough to call my tracks chillers
• Its just Harlem, where I grew up and blew up
• I was still a fucking screw up
• Momma wants me to explore
• But I'm afraid I'll be on the hard floor
• Holding up cardboard, chasin up car doors
• My parents split, shit, they weren't even married
• I was the baby canary in the middle of a wolf fight
• Momma was uptight, Dad was not right
• Every time they fight I just wished for shots on sight
• I was ready to pick cannons like Nick at Nite
• Or like Nick's wife, catch the insight