Out The Box - DL Incognito

I don’t own diamonds

There’s nothing in the lining

Call me a backpacker

I keep the music climbin'

I’ve got heart, I’ve got soul

Ready or not I think out the box

Niggas … to call our names, put me in categories

My story?

I guess I backpack my way to glory

With a napsack I’m strapped

Like a days of awe

My question — did the hip hop loose its soul?

Am I to just pigeonhole with no room to grow?

I do songs to perform, not to come to blows

I’m a professional you know?

Don’t label me nigga, all the sizzles closed

I chose to wear earth tones

And leave rappers like the colour on my birthstones

Like a thief with

And told them to wild

I’m home grown but I’m fond to advance

I became my own man, god damn!

It’s all about hard work nigga leave nothing to chance

I gotta move forward, I gotta advance

Please quit with the glancing

I’ve been doing this since Hally Hansen

Wasn’t

Nigga must you keep asking?

I do it for the love, why you got that reaction?

Yo, bare for radio to hot for TV

My BDS scams are embarassing slightly

I’m still waiting for VH1 to mic me

They say I’m too underground for MTV

Like a little to deep for average listeners

Spit a verse that’ll fuck up your algorithms

I sound like the birdmans grill

Got an abundance of rap skill so I spill

My beans on this industry niggas that

Well I’m fat like a sound

Like the Matrix they call it a machine

I’m straight to the point like a laser beam

Got a lock on my spot like

Or credits on production

Mic check one, one, two, three

I’m no tree hugger, vegan or activist

Well, maybe when it comes to this rapping shit

I’m trying to filter those who pop up like spam if I can

But bill boys