(Peace!) Piece of what?
You can’t mean P-E-A-C-E
Cause I’ve seen people on the streets
Shoot the next man and turn around and say ‘peace.’
But that’s leaving people in pieces
It’s not what the meaning of peace is.
Brothers on the butters can’t flip the Parkay.
We fight every night, now that’s not kosher.
I reminisce with bliss of when we was closer,
And wake up to be greeted by an argument again,
…You act like you’re ten.
So immature, I try to concentrate on a cure,
And keep lookin’ at the front door.
Why’s my name the Large Professor?
Cause I milked your cow, in other words I hit your heifer.
I use a pick in my hair without force.
You use a lawn mower–you got peat moss.
Street’s disciple, my raps are trifle.
I shoot slugs from my brain just like a rifle.