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Prepare For Glory

By: Shhh


~Prepare For Glory~ Life-Hop (lif'hap') n. 1 a new form of popular music consisting strictly of real stories and experiences from the artist/s life drawing on rap, funk, street sounds, and fragments of melody and rhythm from previously recorded sources. 2 music videos with imagery from current events intended to educate the masses. R.I.P William Justin McClusky & Phil "Philly Phil" Helm

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Prepare for glory Ever since my lil homie died. I'm cryin like my bro "T" died. Overdose not homicide. He comatose I wipe my eye. Can't stand still. I'm takin beatins like a anvil. Streets is cancer, damn cells. Prisons paid in, damn cells. Did I really lose a baby? Yes, I did. N it's really crazy. Took me deeper down than naval sub. Hate or love. Ain't no love. I lost it like a major flub. Or a major flood. Call Noah. This my ugh. Prepare for glory. This my story. Tell it to ya man. I'm Jellin like a felon. So I'm walkin cuz I can. I'm a Poet n I know it. So i'm talkin cuz I can. Speakin grindin n the diamonds. Better throw it in the can. I. Spit that life hop. Ask my fans, it's quite hot. Hit me on the cell. Never kiss n tell. This Is written well.  Belly of the beast. This is modern day Babylon. Rats is in the streets. Tryin to feast. So they tattle on. Sickest in the game. Got some b****es in the game. Tight jeans. Like queens. They be trickin for the game. This is really real. Philly phil. Rest in peace. Ya Feel me real. Lost him to the drama. Of some chick wit no honor. Slugs flew. Left him folded like a comma. They told me fall back. I was dustin off the gat. They Said, Philly Phil wouldn't want it like that. Took a look at my myself. Trade that gat. For a track. Studio minutes. I spend studio hours. Studio listenin. N studio devourin. Writin like a manic. I'm Titan like the planet. I ain't the type to kill a dude. I'm the type that plan it. Lost in the moment. Tell the moment just hold it. Kinda like my ex. Dawg. I'm tired of gettin scolded. Kicked her to the curb. N the moment felt golden. Pain in the balls. Well, technically scrotum. South Jersey's own. In my South Jersey home. Rockin in the booth. In my South Jersey zone. Spit that fire flame. Y'all done lit that fire flame. Wanna speak ya lil words. N talk ya lil names. I been dead 5 times. What's really on ya brains? Huh. ©Jer-Z Fresh

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