Aceyalone

[Chorus]
Im 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, Im 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 Nikes and step to it nicely
Huh, its 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]
Im that hip-hop SPOKESman, I aint a coke man
A good folks man, he reached for the mic and broke his hand
Its not my problem, its not my fault
Its not my concern, I dont give a shit about
Them dirty fingers, reachin for the scepter
All up in yo head but Im 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 dont sell it I spill it out, and tell it so angelic
My rap gat makes your brain splat
Blow up, everything thats holdin up your hat
Its 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 its 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 didnt 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 its tension in they brains
An extension of the game and, I stake this claim
And break these chains and this ones for the last train
Im 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, Im trained in the arts
We got one verse left to rock this beat
And seperate the good shit from the weak
So, get in the groove, and feel the sound
And once youre inside spread yourself around
From the bottom to the top, top, to the bottom
Im, gonna rock em, while, I still got em
I rock this hour with style and power
And this, is yo MC hour
I dont know if, all of you have heard
But its up to YOU to rip.. [vocals fade out]
[ Jack Of All Trades Lyrics ]