Lyrics of 'The Message' by Thirstin Howl III

(Thirstin Howl III)
The rhymes you about to hear nevertheless of my own
This is for all you young MC's oh my how you've grown
You got bigger better stronger and much faster
I remember you were small or slow
With a speech impediment and had asthma
You a comedian when you started doin stand up?
And where you come up with all these fuckin stupid answers?
Your rhymes would be cute
If you wrote em on a pad that was pink
When MC's think, they're above the rim
I make them realize they really below the sink
Before we battle, check it out, I got these rules
You can't say: nine, spine, time
All that shit is pre-school
You could talk of shootings, but tell me so I would be clear
But don't brag about coke deliveries that will never be here
Don't mention your chickenhead and all her clothes by Versace
When she needs some orthopedic shoes - she's pigeontoed and knock-kneed
Save me the part about, Timb's and bandanas
Frontin in front of cameras, braggin about what your man does
I heard enough: glocks, cocks last year
That took niggaz to the cashier
But that ain't happenin for your ass here
I'm amazed in your sudden interest for espanol
But see, I won't, rhyme, out the house, unless I'm told
Don't speak of ice unless it's from the freezer
Your Rolex and Lexus in Texas, I don't wanna hear that either
How much cash you got is really none of my concern
As long as all of this is established, let me hear you, it's your turn