Artist:  Bass P
Album:  "It's Mine"
Song:  "I Can Feel It"

Verse 1:
Breakin' 'em off a little somethin', my shit be bumpin'
Your speaker's pumpin' out my smooth lyrics
Hear it?  You're filled with the spirit 
Of my rhyme, rhyme sublime, on time, and like the Sprint dime
It brings ya good luck, so give a fuck and tuck this into your
Pocket and rock it, guard my rhyme like a locket, unlock it
Like a treasure, 'cuz it's full of freaky pleasures
So clever whenever I pick up a pen
Blend old with the new trend, it's in the Top Ten
'Cuz it flows and you knows this.  Why? 'Cuz I composed this
You so glad you chose this, 'cuz I'm a pro like Moses
Malone, in the zone, stoned off this rap
Natural high,  no lie, I fly out of this trap
Unstrap my belt, so I can escape
Give me a pen, a pad, a beat, a mic, and I'll make a tape
That'll whip ya into shape, shift to weights, then lift
Sip my fifth, I'm a Bad Boy like Lawrence and Smith
So swift when I deliver that you shiver with fear
Ear poppin', Bass is droppin' beats you love to hear
Let me clear my throat, so I don't stumble and choke
When I run game with the flame that I just wrote
It's hot, hot, so hot, and on fire it caught
Gettin' hotter, needin' water, better beam it up Scott
Do you like it a lot?  My rhyme's always got a plot
And I've never spent a whole song rappin' about pot
Or who I shot.  Blast, that shit gets old so fast
"Bitch this, nigga that."  Yo, I hope that's in the past
Trash that shit, and flow to lyrics I spit
'Cuz it's legitimate, I'm hittin' it, now tell me, can you feel it?

Chorus:
Can you feel it?  I can feel it, I'm so real it
Uh, kinda hurts when I bust my verse
(Repeat 2x)

Verse 2:
When I flow, I wreck shop, my shit don't stop, it's hip-hop
To the fullest, the coolest, and you could never pull this
Outta yo' box, the box rocks like my shocks
When I'm hittin' switches, bitches are gonna need stitches
For the wounds I made, should've paid heed to my tunes
Balloons will be delivered to your hospital rooms
Tombstone like Bone, I'm takin' all the girls home
I was alone, till I sprayed on my Hugo cologne
Now I'm thrown left and right, all night, like a doll
Every time I hit it, I'm in it to win it all
Don't stall, 'cuz the track runs, run track, headline black
Michael Johnson 200 in 19 flat
Who dat?  He's so quick, click like a bullet from a glock
Tock, tick, tick, BOOM, I blow up like a stock
On a good day, I should say can hang with the best
The parlayer, rhymesayer, true player will arrest
Any sucker out there with a P.H.D.
And all them P.H.P.'s will swarm ya like HIV
So don't be a hater, be a player congratulater
You'll be filled with more flavor than a Now-N-Later
Kinda chewy, kinda sweet, a Halloween trick-or-treat
A hundred G's to my pocket like my rhyme to a beat
Not from the street, not a faker, not a studio gangsta
At times my rhymes tell jokes, some folks call me a prankster
Thanks for takin' a sec. to listen to my wreck
Mic check, surround sound, 'cuz you know it's high tech
Respect is what I'll get with all these lyrics I spit
'Cuz it's legitimate, I'm hittin' it, now tell me, can you feel it?

Chorus

Verse 3:
When I come to your town, my shit be down, don't even clown 
For a minute, I did it, and you could never hit it
Hard, I went yard, check the back of my card
For all my stats, at bats, fool, don't ever disregard
My presence, defenses will never stop me
"Cuz see I'll find a hole and then I'll roll down through the key
Free for a lay-up, so pay up the cost
You was tossed like a salad, no doubt about it, you lost
I'm the boss, and you know I be runnin' the show
From the Ville to St. Louis, let's do this a bit mo'
Rock it slow, rock it fast, Alpine's in the dash
Head bobbin' to my song, it's on when I pass
You up on the left or the right, it's tight
My MX6 blasts a remix of Quik's "Tonite"
All right, it's all good, when you're rollin' through my hood
Come correct with respect, don't you wish you could
Be an MC like B-A-double S-P, I'm twenty-
One like a gun, I'm loaded, cocked, and ready
To spread these words to all my peoples and peers
Don't need a band to make music, diffuse it with your ears
'Cuz it's clear, it's the bomb, bomb like when you told your Mom
"I saw this girl and rocked her world, got her pregnant at the prom"
Keep it on, 'cuz it's smooth, smooth like Jazzy Jeff's Groove
Make you move to the left, and my def rhymes will prove
That I love this game, I'm not in it for the fame
And shame to any fakers, them money takers are lame
They claim that they're rich, but they're really someone's bitch
Make a tape, sell a mill., still livin' in a ditch
Got no profits, just tits for the lyrics they spit
I ain't down with that shit, now tell me can you feel it?

Chorus

Copyright 1998 Peter A. Roselli