[applause]
[Rasco:]
Thank you, thank you very much
I appreciate that, thank you
Yeah uhh, once again, Soul father Rasco
Dick Swan', The Theory, Cali Agent #1
Yeah... new and improved
San Fran', Oakland, yeah, look
Well it's the shotgun slinger, middle right finger
Me against the world, up against your girl
34 years, this rap game takin its toll
I never quit still spittin it cold
Now, I've reached inside to find my pride and
Mushed your face to clear my space you
Niggaz forgot who calls these shots
Mr. G Dubya Bush with one button to push
Secure your home man, goin for your dome man
Nobody cares, gotta make it on your own man
The things I've seen will make y'all scream at the
top of your lungs to get y'all sprung {*scream*}
I've survived to keep shit live
From the, training wheels to four wheel drive
Respect the game, respect my name
It's the nigga that can break your whole chest frame
Listen and learn, I spit these bars like
Life depends to get those ends (yeah)
Fuck your trends, I spits like no one
Off the mound, you still can't throw one (hell naw)
Splits and curves, you cats got nerve
Call your clique, you might get served (hell yeah)
Smoked and choked with hands on throat
Now my mission is to get my hands on notes
Check the stats we don't bust gats, we
sling the crack in 16 tracks
Half an ounce to make dudes bounce
Niggaz, took they shots and still don't count (nah)
Rock for years but dudes don't care be
Ras again I must speak clearly
It's still the same, we still rock yearly
Thoughts provoked, The Dick Swan Theory


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