This aint that token born in harlem/ Road to Stardom
Struggle to the top of hip hop totem pole
i’m 9 to fiver/ clock in and out survivor
so wife can get fries with that/ and baby’s got some diapers
I frequently rhyme scheme when the moonlight beams
the brightest / and everyone else dreams
it’s kinda my thing / get geek when a beat
holds me hostage/ till i give a 16 bar fee/ to set me free
thats reality some starving artists can’t see
happy to be / living life/ with God & family
and please...if u ever see me do the contrary
slap me back to my senses immediately
Rap? it’s 47th on the checklist
but Once in my element I’m a force to reckoned with
So after the mic get’s wrecked
It’s back to mild mannered livin already in progress

I AM/ NOT FAMOUS HIP HOP STAR / NOT EVEN ON POP CHARTS
NOT EVEN WHAT YOU WANT
I JUST LIKE TO RAP
NO AGENDA HIDDEN / SAMUEL OX IS SPITTIN
DON’T GIVE ME NO LIP ‘CUS
I JUST LIKE TO RAP

Was larva when “PLAGUE” bombarded in ‘99
til currently i rise from DIRT/ rooted in christ
Samuel!...not your average christian gimmick rap clone
master ceremonies with appetite of cannibals
a cross between the hulk foaming thru his teeth
feening to slice open mikey-phones like guillotines
hiphop captain lou albano/
minus hawaiian shirts & cyndi lauper music video cameos
but my real super talent is shaking up my babys bottle
so fast! i leave no powder clumps for him to swallow
God, family, hiphop on a balancing beam
challenging but possible. just read phil. 4:13
i’m inclined to move toward the mic booth/
spit a rhyme or 2/ while wifey smiles at me from across the room
then its back home where baby snores between his mom and me
pull on my beard with his toes all night in his sleep