Untitled

Found these bars while cleaning out my back pack. They from when I was 18, 19

I came in here drunk, fucked up off liquor//
One hit of the haze, my thoughts flow quicker//
Not your average nigga, I'm smarter than them//
I don't care if ya'll ball, I'm above the rim//
I spit knowledge strong enough to shove you//
Taught at an early age that the ghetto don't love you//
Its built to murder and jail house fuck you//
Wisdom coming out the finger tips, let me touch you//
I told you if you aint part of my movement//
Then move quick//
Don't make me lose it//
For those of ya'll wit me//
I still spit it sickly//
I got what ale's you//
Lyric Allah will never fail you or leave you out in the cold//
Young or old//
Spit knowledge that you need to know//
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Work

From a studio session I'm in now with Blac Heat. The song was called "Work"

Work like Big Daddy Kane//
A pimp without the kane//
My son is on my chain//
Ur baby mommas on my aim//
Awaiting all challenges from you dumb fucks//
On the corner with a mic and a gun, who want what//
The answers yes when you ask can I bust//
Got that god flow, my raps miraculous//
Stop playing like I aint sick with the bars//
I spit anthrax, swine flu and sars//
Ladies need insurance messing with me, I fuck hard//
One of my back strokes will pop your bra//
C dot versy, I go hard in the paint//
And I never tried to be something I aint//
So fly when I sore through, ur baby momma faints//
Hoe ass niggas, you keep a lot of dick in your face//
Producers, don't get your beat smothered//
I write rhymes and get the chills, I'm cold blooded//

Blac heat, cv, tell them fathers hide they daughter//
She's a gonna when I spot her//
President c dot odrama//
I don't jerk, I work, u better ask somebody//
You have no resume, ur ass is a nobody//
I'm fonzi, ur joannie, too chocha to be chachi//
Watch me, I'll show you how to flow kid//
Can't hang, hand in their 2 week notice, work//
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Verse from Session with STAGE

You chase pussy and say you pimping//
I chase dollas, I'm bout my bidness//
Loser, get your priorities straight//
I treat beats like coke on a plate//
Where the rap fiends at//
I got what you need jack//
Every line is a line//
The best product is mine//
Best Coast corner boy, act like you know//
On the block til every mixtape is sold//
Fresh from the bald head down to the sole//
My son tatted on my neck, game branded on my soul//
C dot, imma real C E O//
Diamonds, rose gold, 20s and above in my bankroll//
Blu division, murda musik, surround myself with the best//
Raps nothing but a game and I got next//
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Untitled

I jump on beats, abuse tracks//
Everytime I see you grab a mic, get smacked back//
I wrote his rhyme with a sober mind//
Its a hard grind whenever I'm on mines//
I'm on my p's and q's, I'm that dude//
Performed at every venue, I paid dues//
But aint nobody offer me no deal//
I survive off blood sweat and will//
I strive to be better every day//
I'm the cali kanye, west coast lupe//
Come meet the man behind the mic//
My knowledge shines like the sun, soul darker than night//
Its not hard to tell, I gets it in bro//
C dot, heavyweight don mega flow//
After me there shall be no more//
Kick a whole in the speaker, grab the mic and let's go!//

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Verse from Session with STAGE-2

Learn your lesson when your fucking with him//
Him being I//
I being C//
Dot V E R S Y versy//
I'm back on my mic shit//
My advice is//
Hire me as your ghostwriter, I'm nice bitch//
Blu d, murda musik, surround myself with the best//
Raps nothing but a game and I got next//
You now listening to the best of both bosses//
Contro, Stage, every1 else in the coffin//
I blow big trees without coughing//
getting head from ya baby momma often//
She likes nut in large portions//
Everytime she swallows she call it an abortion//
Imma block baby, street orphan//
Your songs boring from start to end//
I just murdered the hook, go ahead and bring the chorus in//
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My Daily 16 Bars: Day 88

I'm stepping up my pen game//
These dudes lame//
You get your flow from your ma'an//
I just pick my brain//
I make words connect like links on a chain//
You need a low price on them thangs, hit me on aim//
I spit clever//
I gets cheddar//
Think that you better?//
*blaow* End that vendetta//
Hold up, I thought I caught him eyeing my bezzy//
My fist small but hard like rocks, c dot chevy//
Best Coast ENT, rep it to my death//
That's my baby, protect it with squozen tecs//
Any drama, I'll put to your neck//
A trigger finger curl will put that bs to rest//
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My Daily 16 Bars: Day 87

It's the return of the mic controlla//
Ya chick get wet as soon as I approach her//
If she got a phat ass, flip her ova//
I'm trynna build my brand like coca cola//
I'mma man about my damn green//
I hear a beat and start itching like a damn fiend//
I got bass running through my damn viens//
Mann, I be sniffing up tracks like they cocaine//
C. Versy, the hip hop junkie//
Spit a fix, need work then get it from me//
I be on the corner doing hand to hands//
Slinging mixtapes and ringtones fam//
I mean god damn, I'm the hardest working brotha in hip hop//
Gotta flow you can't top//
A grind you can't stop//
Watch your favorite rapper flatline when my album drops//