Yao Ming - Project Move

Uh huh.

Yo.

Rock me

Hold me up to your head for awhile

Picture black when you reciting and handing it out

To your friends, your family, the people you love

I’m on stage with a mic and I’m holding it up

Like a sword, but oh lord, when the cut come in

Every detail of my happiness and every sin

Was written down for your ears so

When I’m done say m to the izzle

Big king of the drums up

Voice of the children up in every slum

With more power than the bullets you got in your gun, one

Highly sought more oft then not

Did it so my child would be proud of her pops

And tell her friends, how really dope the man is

And how the rest really is all bullish in show biz

So you need me more than I need you

Moe Burger for President, the Project Move!

Dress so fresh impress the best bitch

Throw the mic like a bone and I’ll go and fetch it

Top dog, underdog, life hectic

Most definite unemployment check collected

Temporary layoff, got the day off

Hopefully these rhymes will payoff

Dead bullseye away off

Color chaos, I display awe

Midnight mic seance, the beats play on

Run to the corner store, grab a dutchee

Run back to the crib, roll it up, lovely

Press play to the beat tape, you can’t touch me

Sky high like Marv Goodie, cloud above me

Man bionic, super high, magic carpet

Couldn’t touch it, unless you tried to reach out and love it yo

A toast to hell

Smoke this l, both too swell

How I feel, broken heart

I ain’t keeping it still I’m just browsin

Shipping crates by the thousand it’s called Yao Ming

Make it sound clean, that professional sound

F around and get your body print sketched in the ground

Testing me now, trying to write the recipe down

Seems familiar when the millimeter

Missed him by a centimeter

Didn’t mean to kill him either, that was just a warning

Better tell em fast, run a telegraph I signed an order

And the must-bust, for just us kids to respect, hits collect

Mic check, mirror mirror on the wall?

Now tell me who the flying king of em all

Go to sleep and dream about how I won it all

Wake up and write a rhyme on how to make it all

That’s me in the mirror no makeup, no Jacob

Throw back in my own right with my left hand

To the next plan to the next jam