what does it take to make it what does it take to make it
VERSE 1
my style will lock you down and get your brain stimulated decapitating people while my pen orchestrated mad flavor on the paper and Ill Behavior be favoring some sky scrapers I be looking over sides like snipers watch the crossfire when my shots ring to bust up a cipher and lighters be flicking so fluids on empty, indeed my style rolls like a stampeed causing mad casualties mics smoked like (inhaling) so the second hand from the M.I. got you high and made your doves cry so people check my slang the Borough Side Representative's who I be styles be nice-ly spreading rhymes like jam people, I'll strand y'all for all your propaganda talking trash about this flow-er without knowing the ramifications I'm staying harder then ------- or before some penetration with Kid and Supreme conceited for the fact that all these people around town with blown heads got depleted by me and Ill B. I be what I wanna shut your stinkin' mouth child, I'm that one, that persona finds the illest lyrics, having breakers on the floor shaking like they're pileptics fresher then some chloroseptic or a squirt from Banaka a raw chief rocker check the Chiz-Chiznocka
CHORUS
what does it take to make it what does it take to make it
VERSE 2
the Choclair comes back, my eyes are closed so rappers running for the back, Choclair don't care yo, it's realness forget the nonsense that ain't real about "keep my face screwed, how many caps I like to peel" I don't talk about no guns because guns I do not carry never advocate no violence cuz violence don't become me just talking about "be chillin' with these ladies that be sexy" you don't like it, well I don't give a..... my brother I roll with the force like Skywalker understand this fly talker, Chiznocka yo, you try to get with this man who has four eyes yo, you die twice cuz I be Choclair (yeah, you know my rhyme ) you know my style, you know sometimes I be complex when lyrics hit my brain, all these people run over to their urinals to leak out that nonsense they're dropping, man it's Choclair yo, the Ill B. be representing enough hits (yeah,we break it down like that Chocs, what you got to say about those who want to roll up) I don't care though cause when it comes down to battle emcees they die with ease they pass like breeze or maybe leave like trees some rappers wonder how I do it how I - how I get into it my breath be leaving but I still come back cuz they're just receiving ill rhymes and ill raps like Artifacts they try to be on the wrong side of the tracks but got licked by the train understand the ill-sane Choclair for your brain
CHORUS
what does it take to make it what does it take to make it what does it take to make it what does it take to make it
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what does it take to make it what does it take to make it
VERSE 1
my style will lock you down and get your brain stimulated decapitating people while my pen orchestrated mad flavor on the paper and Ill Behavior be favoring some sky scrapers I be looking over sides like snipers watch the crossfire when my shots ring to bust up a cipher and lighters be flicking so fluids on empty, indeed my style rolls like a stampeed causing mad casualties mics smoked like (inhaling) so the second hand from the M.I. got you high and made your doves cry so people check my slang the Borough Side Representative's who I be styles be nice-ly spreading rhymes like jam people, I'll strand y'all for all your propaganda talking trash about this flow-er without knowing the ramifications I'm staying harder then ------- or before some penetration with Kid and Supreme conceited for the fact that all these people around town with blown heads got depleted by me and Ill B. I be what I wanna shut your stinkin' mouth child, I'm that one, that persona finds the illest lyrics, having breakers on the floor shaking like they're pileptics fresher then some chloroseptic or a squirt from Banaka a raw chief rocker check the Chiz-Chiznocka
CHORUS
what does it take to make it what does it take to make it
VERSE 2
the Choclair comes back, my eyes are closed so rappers running for the back, Choclair don't care yo, it's realness forget the nonsense that ain't real about "keep my face screwed, how many caps I like to peel" I don't talk about no guns because guns I do not carry never advocate no violence cuz violence don't become me just talking about "be chillin' with these ladies that be sexy" you don't like it, well I don't give a..... my brother I roll with the force like Skywalker understand this fly talker, Chiznocka yo, you try to get with this man who has four eyes yo, you die twice cuz I be Choclair (yeah, you know my rhyme ) you know my style, you know sometimes I be complex when lyrics hit my brain, all these people run over to their urinals to leak out that nonsense they're dropping, man it's Choclair yo, the Ill B. be representing enough hits (yeah,we break it down like that Chocs, what you got to say about those who want to roll up) I don't care though cause when it comes down to battle emcees they die with ease they pass like breeze or maybe leave like trees some rappers wonder how I do it how I - how I get into it my breath be leaving but I still come back cuz they're just receiving ill rhymes and ill raps like Artifacts they try to be on the wrong side of the tracks but got licked by the train understand the ill-sane Choclair for your brain
CHORUS
what does it take to make it what does it take to make it what does it take to make it what does it take to make it
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