Jack Of All Trades Lyrics - Hip Hop And The World We Live In - Aceyalone

[Chorus] 

I'm the jack of all trades, master of one 

Black and underpaid, blastin this mic gun 

Put it to your temple, and pop yo' pimple 

Break you down like kempo, I'm trained in the arts 

[Aceyalone] 

I specify in rockin my page from the heart 

I dig down deep within my psyche 

Information excites me, the knowledge invites me 

When I, throw on my Nike's and step to it nicely 

Huh, it's unlikely any man could out-mic me 

Lightning, please strike me like it did when I was a child 

Hit me with a hundred thousand volts and make me smile 

You name it I can aim it, catch it and tame it, explain it 

Take it and paint it in beautiful technicolor 

Directly from another place you could expect no other 

To stand by these trues and break these rules 

We defy the laws of cool and sang these blues and bring this news 

[Chorus] 

[Aceyalone] 

I'm that hip-hop SPOKESman, I ain't a coke man 

A good folks man, he reached for the mic and broke his hand 

It's not my problem, it's not my fault 

It's not my concern, I don't give a shit about 

Them dirty fingers, reachin for the scepter 

All up in yo' head but I'm not Dr. Lector 

Or Dr. Phil, but I still got to kill 

white widdle, black widdle, fat little pill 

To take for your enjoyment, to get psychadelic 

I don't sell it I spill it out, and tell it so angelic 

My rap gat makes your brain splat 

Blow up, everything that's holdin up your hat 

It's firin the pistons gas, in the engines 

Fuck a foot in the door, we takin off the hinges 

When my, dash is broken, glass is broken 

And class is open, and it's still left smokin 

[Chorus] 

[Aceyalone] 

Okay Mr. Pick to Ten, is it sickenin? 

What kind of little box you thinkin in? Think again 

Draw a blank, you saw a tank 

But didn't see my soldiers on the flank movin up another rank 

The Hip-Hop Hall of Fame went up in flames 

When they, mention my name it's tension in they brains 

An extension of the game and, I stake this claim 

And break these chains and this one's for the last train 

I'm the jack of all trades, master of one 

And the thing I mastered is blastin this mic gun 

Put it to your temple, and pop yo' pimple 

Break you down like kempo, I'm trained in the arts 

We got one verse left to rock this beat 

And separate the good shit from the weak 

So, get in the groove, and feel the sound 

And once you're inside spread yourself around 

From the bottom to the top, top, to the bottom 

I'm, gonna rock 'em, while, I still got 'em 

I rock this hour with style and power 

And this, is yo' MC hour 

I don't know if, all of you have heard 

But it's up to YOU to rip.. {*vocals fade out*}