Reason For Rhyme Lyrics - Eightball & Mjg

Verse 1, MJG, Eightball: 

I'm MJG, the nigga with the versatile style 

Check your calendar realize that I been here for awhile 

When I was young I took the soul up out of rhythm and blues 

When hip hop originated slowly paid my dues 

And take my shoes, and try to walk a mile in my past 

Without them salt shaker sheisters tryin to get in that ass 

It's been too long, you motherfuckers fittin to feel the south 

Shut your mouth, shut your do you little freak ass hoe 

I'm bout tired of all this damn east and west coast shit 

Especially when other niggaz tryin to work in this bitch 

I paid my dues to the fullest, worked to god damn hard 

For you too kill the industry and leave me out of a job 

You niggaz strain yourself, to maintain yourself 

And now you playin with enough rope to actually hang yourself 

But you don't care, hell, you constantly fallin deep in the plot 

Mesmerized from all the bitches and the money you got 

You must of forgot they said that rap would never last ten years 

And if your selfish to the fact, I'm tryin to have a career 

Now listen here, what do we have, we got probable cause 

To keep the pen on the paper and the glock in your drawers, nigga 

Remember back when we used to do this shit for fun 

Bein the dopest on my block made me ranked number one 

No gun, just a pen and notebook paper by the sheet 

In the crib, gettin funky off the next nigga beat 

No electronics to make the shit that I wrote the chronic 

Shit sick enough to bring vomit from your stomach 

Quick as a comet, shield your eyes from the UV 

Groovey, like a nigga from a Batman movie 

Real about the shit that I express over dope beats 

You can't say it was fake unless you grew up on my street 

Concrete head niggaz, runnin from FED niggaz, 

Po' ass scared niggaz, that came out dead niggaz 

And all I ever wanted to be was an emcee 

Did a little dirt and found it wasn't for me 

Poetry flowin through my bloodstream like a drug 

I'm addicted to rhyme because I love the buzz, nigga 

Chorus, Repeat 2X: 

My reason for rhyme 

Because I'm true to this rap 

My reason for rhyme 

Because I'm real with this rap 

My reason for rhyme 

It ain't all about the cheese 

Even though fat lp's can make a nigga g's 

Verse 2, MJG: 

My reason for rhymin, while I'm in, a position to be tellin 

It's not about the fame and them bitches who be yellin 

At my concerts, one verse, dicks up, quick fuck 

Lies start spreadin now you tangled in a mix up 

I gits up, do sits up, and squeeze my mental mindrame back in order 

And use my hand as a tape recorder 

Jottin down all the information placed in front of me 

The good time, the bad time, the way I think it oughta be 

Now follow G, can you comprehend? 

If you can then drink a shot of Hen 

Hit this hand on your silver end 

Friends don't be friends and foes don't be foes 

However the way you bring it, that's how you want it, I suppose 

I can stay up out the game keep my aim on my paper 

And I'll be sure to keep my pimpin real with Tony Draper 

And I'll potray the man that I'm known to be 

Dim the lights (Hip-tie) for the MJG 

Chorus, Repeat 2X 

Verse 3, Eightball: 

Give me a crowd of wild niggaz who love real hip hop 

And watched smoke get soaked up, like water in a mop 

Drop presidents among me and my own folk 

And let that bullshit walk among the past with ghosts 

Ain't no hope of bein takin seriously 

When limited avenues are given to me 

So, naturally I take shit and make shit mine 

Jackin only for position in this thing called rhyme 

Freestyle, not great, but if you wait for a second 

I could write some shit down that could get a gold record 

Thought about not the first thing that I think about 

MJG and Eightball and hard is how we comin out 

Runnin out, niggaz who can't hold on like En Vogue 

Even though I moved out the mound I'm still ten toed 

Down for the shit I do, the Suave House crew 

True to this shit, because this shit is so true 

Chorus, Repeat 2X 

End with shoutouts