Show Lyrics

Sup The Chemist - My Shot
(from the album Dust)
© copyright 1999, Sup The Chemist

Man I going for broke like little kids be set free, y'all go play and get dirty inside of the sand box , I'm comin' with classic material like Alfred Hitchcock, still my pockets are thin like Chris Rock, so I'm callin' up Samuel Jackson, a homie what's crackin', you wanna be my negotiator, I'm tryin' to swing a deal with the majors you know come up on some real paper, residuals, cause in America this is what makes you an individual, sad but true, once a yr. just like the flu, I'm comin on you and your whole crew givin' y'all something (%^#^) to bob your head to ,when your just chillin', your sayin' ,man I wanna hear an emcee skillin, well that's me, my whole LP, laced , wild like Grace Jones ,When I step in front of the microphone, I can't help it its the I.E. inside of a brotha, listen closely and you will discover, that my skills are very advanced, my vocal tone will put you in a trance, closing you eyes will allow one to escape, catching my feeling that are on tape, running like dear in the wilderness, who is this poetic writer, birth name Chris alias Sup The Chemist, man I keep records like genesis ,cause the phonograph is like a hour glass, allowing us to witness how much sand has passed, I know its hard to grasp but all us emcees are like leafs on trees, soon to dry up and be sweep away by the night breeze, so I protect my blessing, got um on lock, thank the lord for all I got, and that's not just a cool speech, but I actually reached down my esophagus and pulled out Chris and said ,yo ,before we vacate this ho, you better understand your roll, which is to bless the instrumental, bust at your full potential, I know you've been mistreated like a rental, but that was to build more character, man your a soldier on these streets, march ,march, cause your complete.

Chorus

Waving at those who have no clue trying to instruct me what to do, I return from my pilgrimage only to find out, y'all haven't grew, times going by you like cars on the hwy. hairs beginning to turn gray as you ponder on yesterday, where your problems where minimal ,but now they rain supreme, it seems procrastination has suffocated all your dreams, well I'm not a man who can give you much advice, but you can go talk to my consoler Jesus the Christ
I've been going to him for 12yrs. now he's cool tell him you know me, and he'll wave the fee.