CunninLynguists feat Kory Calico - Mic Like a Memory 
 [bad word]  x2 
I sign his space's with time existant blare 
I hold the mic like a memory 

[Deacon the Villan] 
There was a time when I couldnt find energy 
The only person that was filln' me was Mrs. Hennesey 
Ahh, Its like life was pinnin' me down 
I used to gout on the town and get instantly clowend 
You aint gonna be a rapper, you not a factor 
You just a kentucky boy, get yourself a tractor 
Chasing out the bogus dreams that you never acheive 
Thats when the liquer and weed became a need 
Self-esteem was about as low as ?? 
Asperations were about as big as Mertyl Ercle's [bad word] 
Then as soon as I started geeting some pride 
My sister high, [bad word]  plain and died on ile 65 
In a family full of pride, house full of tears 
Spent many years with a blood stream of beers 
Heart full of fears all ??, no cheers 
Till the rhythm in my ears make my mind clear 
 [bad word]  x2 

[Dj Kno] 
Aiiyo, I hold the microphone enclosed in my palm 
And go beyond the flows exposed in my songs 
Cant grow fond of past memories 
Cos negetivity leeds the way to live with vast energy 
Offended by the mental imagery 
And suggest livin' in poverty was really meant for me 
paternal tendancies towards chemical dependancies had me thinking that all 
my enemies work into me 
And I cant begin to see how to control the flash backs 
And progress past, all my style of dress got me laughed at 
Thought I was passed at 
But it attemps to reoccur when I dont proceive wat I feel I deserve 
being slurred by those not livin' in my position, 
My thoughts tend to glisten, Just like I'm kinda [bad word]  
And when I thought id risin', life freeze's the frame 
So I hold the mic like a memory to ease the pain. 
 [bad word]  x2 

[Kory Calico] 
I sit back on the flip, on the wild paths in my life 
Only pain and heartache can feel my paths on the right 
You know wat blasphermy's like, cursing the god 
Cause you aint got [bad word] it hurts and its hard  [bad word] at times I steped it up to only stumble 
Was forced to play tarzan in this concrete jungle 
Most of my life's a daze got me forever lighting haze 
Trying to forget the times, where I barely ate twice a day 
For, alone and helpless, so when I only felt the shame 
sharing a twin bed in a homeless shelter 
Few friends even then, most hommies is fake 
Feel like a prisoner in my home pencil my only escape 
I went from the block with my fam, to collage exams 
But the pressures still there 
Dog, I'm still scared 
But I know it will all be right in the end 
As long as I can focus my fears and channel my life through my pen