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Class Is In Session

by Eske

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1.
Shit...why do I still get up this early? I mean, it's not like I could have chose not to take 8 AM classes. Sit up in my bed, it's too early in the morning Take an extra five minutes just to stop the yawning Rub the sleep up out my eyes and stumble 'round the room. Tripping over clothes, shoes, and empty bottles of booze. Reaching blindly out to start a coffee pot. Put the grounds in before the filter (Oops..) Guess I just forgot. Fix the problem, then I take a quick shower So fresh and so clean, Outkast on the scene, uh. Pick a fresh pair of jeans and a fitted Thought about skipping class, but I gotta be comitted Yet my music mind disagrees, thoughts are so conflicted. But, I have better chances of finishing school, I'll admit it. Yet I can't help but dream 'bout being on the top. Recording songs and touring 'round the country non-stop. But that won't happen as long as Soulja Boi is still rapping And talent is nowhere to be found in mainstream hip hop. But I don't care if I don't make it, I'm just having fun Spittin' cold flows, call me Jack Frost's son. Book bag on my back. Wayfarers, matte-black. Sox snapback with a pair of Chucks just to match. So take a seat bitch. Class is now in session. Dr. Eske's gonna teach you all a fucking lesson Listen up to the rhymes that I will be professing. I'll tell you all the things that got a college student stressing. (Outro -Professor Voice) Ahem.... Welcome to your first day of lecture. If you haven't printed out a copy of the syllabus, I am passing out copies of it now. Today, we will review the syllabus itself, along with the outline of assignments for this semester....
2.
(Intro) Eske That Class In Session shit Yeah (Verse 1) Well, you can catch me routin’ in the Civic, all black, with the roof open Scotty’s rollin up a blunt with buds that’s ripened for the toking. Yeah, I’m pretty damn outspoken, cuz I speak whats on my mind. So tell me would you think the same about me if you were blind? the color of my skin does not define the way I rhyme. I just do this shit for me, I’m having fun most of the time But these people that chime in tell me exactly how I should rap Bitch, step your ass back before I spit hot magma Yeah they call me mount Vesuvius, you bitches are pompei. And yes, I’m from the suburbs, but that fact does not allay My flow at all. I stand tall, they’re appalled with my demeanor. I’m The kid that’s slackin’ off in school, I skip to smoke some reefer. Barely listen to the teacher, and my parents have good money Yet I’m paying my own way, so many loans it isn’t funny. They say that school pays off, I just hope it works out for me. ‘Till then I’ll just keep rappin’ bout the days that most deem “glory” and Yeah, I’m talking college, man this shit is far from boring. I’ve been here three years, but I’m still only exploring And learning about this city known for brewing lots of beer. But my home is in Chicago, It’s the place I hold so dear To my heart. It’s a part of me that will not ever leave. Best believe that I’ll be repping it, I wear it on my sleeve. Yeah Gambino is a mastermind, but I am not too far behind. Haters go to beddy-bye they’re just like Luca Brasi They’re sleeping with the fishes while I’m piling up the bodies. My rhymes is going fast man, just call me Ricky Bobby. I’m posin’ for the frame with my motherfuckin’ Posse While these haters keep on jeering, I’ll stick with my favorite hobby yeah. Yeah, uh Yeah, uh (Verse 2) I just finished junior year, man the time is flying by. Only one more year in college, and I cannot even lie. I just fear my graduation, what if things will go awry? What if I can’t find a job, or find a place to live nearby? Theres so much to figure out, but these problems I evade. cuz I can’t help but linger on all these memories I’ve made. And the friends that have my back through the thick and through the thin. They provide me with the aid and confidence I need to win. Think I would have laid down tracks without support from them? Think again. When the haters talk they tell me every things okay and then I pick myself back up and wipe the dust off of my clothes. I know things that make me happy, other people could just loathe. But since I don’t give a shit, much like fucking constipation I’ll still be making music that speaks bout my elations And sometimes my frustrations that I have from day to day. So to deal with all this shit, I’ll crack a bottle of Bombay. Stay away from any yay, but I keep a bag of sticky. Pack a chillum up with scotty and just cruise around the city. Keep rhymin’ till my lungs give out and don’t have nothing left. I’m not asking you to like me, I just want some damn respect, shit. Let me do me and you do you. Get a clue dude, high school has been over and through. We grew up and moved on, haven’t you done it too? This is college motherfucker, Yeah I thought that you knew. Sky High Clique’s up in this bitch, go ahead and grab a brew We can crack a couple bottles, man you know how we do. Mix it with a bit of weed and see what actions ensue. Class is now in session bitch, yeah it’s Eske’s debut. I’ll be here for awhile with the regular crew. While Stayin true to the person that I am. I don’t really give a damn about these judging motherfuckers, So I’ll keep on going ham. That’s really the only plan I just stick with having fun and smoking weed and drinking liquor Simply cuz I fucking can. I’m in college here my man. It’s the place that you can rage and people won’t misunderstand. So I do what I want until I get myself straight banned to Neverland, uh. Class In Session, Bitch (Grunt) It's that Rick Ross grunt on ya Yeah, (Grunt)
3.
(Intro) Class In Session, bitch (laugh) Eske on the beat (Verse 1( Gucci, Louis, Kenneth Cole, and Dolce and Gabana That shits way too expensive man, so I don’t even bother. Got my own swag, and I stay avoiding coppers Cuz I got a bag of medicine I picked up from the doctor. Smoking on that poplar while I’m cruising in my latest whip. Ford Expedition with the black leather steering grip. kickers in the back with the Kenwood logo The left one’s Alex Morgan and the right is Hope Solo. Block going loco, screaming “Turn your fucking music down.” But I don’t give a fuck, so I’ll blare it all around the town. Rock a pair of chucks, they’re my favorite type of shoes And I’m spewing out the illest shit, chillin with my crew Scott, Gleason, B-rad, Leske, and my boy Brian B. Sky High Clique is posted in the spot with some smelly tree. Don’t you see? We spend all day getting rowdy. Cuz just like Trelly-G, man I’m in Milwaukee County Class In Session, bitch (laugh) (yeah) Eske (yeah, uh) (Verse 2) I drink a fifth of vodka like I’m living in the Kremlin. A creature on the beat, man I’m sorta like a Gremlin. Don’t feed me past eleven, or maybe it was mignight? Either way, I’ll light this J to gain some fucking insight. Hold on tight, or this shit will hit you like a pile of bricks. And if you don’t like my music, you can suck a bag of dicks. Threw some Louie C.K. in the motherfucking mix. And These little hater pricks are trying to get me to quit. I won’t ever give it up, cuz I’m too good at this shit. And My skill comes from my wit, which all comes from getting lit . I’m the most creative stoner that has ever tried to spit. So my teeth are staying grit, cuz I got my boys with me. And I don’t like Soulja Boy, but we’re all getting silly. Oh you got problems? Well, bitch I got a Milli So I split this philly, and break some nugget down. Cuz your problems don’t matter if your feet aren’t on the ground.
4.
Lemonade 03:11
(Intro) Hello everyone! My name is Eske, and I just wanted to let you all know that class is now in session. And around this time is when rappers will usually make a random, inspirational statement to lead into their song.... BUT FUCK THAT GAY SHIT (Awwww mannn...) (Verse) So you tell me I don’t understand the stresses and the problems. That come with being a rapper, cuz I’m not from fucking Harlem. And I didn’t slang no drugs, and I had both of my parents That were there to give me everything. But it seems real apparent That there are some standard qualities that need to be inherent In this game made up of thugs, drug dealers, and the rest of ‘em. While everyone is judging me cuz I’m just not possessing ‘em. Screaming “How’s a white boy from the burbs gon get the best of em?” Well from my understanding, rappers are the dreamers That broke free from all restraints and turned haters into believers Who invested everything into the movement that they’re making. So because I’m innovating, this game is mine for the taking. And there’ll be no mistaking me for fitting to the mold. I’m the kid that goes to college with a pocket lacking gold. And I work my fucking ass off just to stay in fucking school. Cuz I got loans out the ass and no scholarships, but it’s cool. I just have to pay 200,000 dollars off in debt, So I’m scared fucking shitless that I won’t have nothing left And I’m praying all this money that I’ve chosen to invest Will be paid off in the future when I sit behind a desk. Working hours upon hours till I look almost grotesque. So for now, I’ll stick to something I enjoy the best. And that’s writing rhymes to pass the time, relieving all my stress. Trying to earn the right to gain that massive target on my chest. And I know that I am blessed, but those blessings come with anchors. I’m the boat that’s held down by all the feelings of ranchor. I’m starting fear this music will just become a canker Keeping me from finding jobs, cuz I rap about the danker types of buds. It’s something that I love. I’m floating through the clouds like I was a fucking dove. So when push comes to shove, I’ll be fighting for my right To record this type of music even though my skin is white. So I’ll scream out that much harder, using all of my might. Just to show my rhymes are tight, and that I can pay tribute To the music that I love, and to end this damn dispute. Cuz my rhymes are so insane, it’s something that you can’t refute. Na na na na na na na na na (x2) Lemons on the chain with the v-cuts Do do do duh do duh duh boo do (It's Gucci!) Do do do duh do duh duh boo do (Burr!) Trumpet noises (Burr!) Trumpet noises (Lemon!) (x2) (Yeah!!!) What the fuck? Who the fuck let Gucci Mane on this track? (Hahhh) Oh...wait.....hahaha (It's Gucci!)
5.
Yeah, uh Yeah! (Verse 1) I got a high top pair of Chucks that I’m rocking. Snapback sox hat, bout to get it popping. Looking out the window, Civic in my driveway. Scotts in the car, we’re gonna hit it on the highway. Cop a bag of buds cuz It’s noon on a Friday. Paul Wall nuggets man, they leave me sitting sideways I paid, so I’ll pack a chillum in the car. Cruse around suburban neighborhoods until the green is charred. Cash it out, while the speakers start blastin’ Wiz Khalifa. The reefer takes effect and we enjoy our time of leisure. Singing “Ink My Whole Body, I don’t give a motherfuck” Feeling so fly, man you know we’re living it up. As I turn to him and ask... (HOOK) Can we get much higher? (Verse 2) Playing Xbox 360 all day long. As we take another hit from the perculator bong. We channel Cypress Hill, you can call me B-Real. People smelling sour shit through the zip-loc seal. Man, you know my spiel, V-neck smells like trees. And I ain’t a Jet Lifer, but I got that steeze. Turn the xbox off cuz we’re headed to the liquor store. Why the hell would Lupe ask, “what you drinking liquor for?” Cuz it gets us drunk, that the words that he will never say. Yeah I know he’s muslim, but I ain’t religious anyway. I don’t give a fuck, red cup with captain in it. Roll another blunt, cuz you know I’m always sinning. Weed and liquor bitch, you can say that I’m Bi-Winning. Getting all this hate from people that barely know me. But they’re all just phonies, and phonies can blow me. So I light the OG and pass it to my homie. He takes a hit and asks… (HOOK) Can we get much higher? (Verse 3) The party’s winding down cuz the booze is all diminished. The bottles might be empty but this shit is far from finished. We crack our last beers and walk out onto the deck. Straight up chillin’ with the regular set. They’re all I need, and you ain’t even close to a threat And That’s something you should never forget Yet, you won’t remember shit because you’re lacking respect All your insignificant chirps, they really don’t affect me, they only redirect me, keep trying to dissect me. All I can tell you is that you do it incorrectly. So I turn my nose up and spit it more intensly Dreaming bout the day where I’ll be riding in my Bentley Smoking dolja in the back because the driver lets me. He don’t give a fuck man, and neither do I Catch me rocking Wayfarers so they can’t see my eyes And as I snap back to reality, I look to the sky Coming down from the high, but my dreams I won’t ditch Yeah my pockets might be empty, but I’m lyrically rich. I’m that half assed student sitting out on the porch While I watch the sun rise as it ignites like a torch. Wake and baking on the roof until we’re all good and scorched. And I can’t help but ask myself… (HOOK) Can we get much higher?
6.
(Eske) It’s the whiteout, Crafty as a boyscout Showing my white ass to the people that doubt. Started in a brick house, owned by my father and his spouse Grew up in the burbs on what Wayne, Em, and Dre spouts. I’m hip hop to the death of me Bobbin’ my head since I was watching Sesame Yet I got a good education, I’m not in the fucking streets. But I’m pulling out the chopper on these instrumental beats. I’m going harder than a giant slab of granite. And if you got a problem with me, you can just can it. I can’t even stand it. Rhymes on manic. Spewing out the hottest shit, like I was volcanic. Uh, Like Chris Martin once said, Don’t Panic When I come up out the game and sink your ships like titanic. Screaming to your partner that you’ll never let go. But you will once you hear a couple crazy white boys flow. (Hook) (BKnitts) (Trouble...) Just laid off by a boss making top dollar. Tempted just to fucking drop him in his popped collar. Beast off the leash, and I’m about to go rotwiler. Kill him, then I’m headed for the jugular of Scott Walker Didn’t catch it on the up and up. Living isn’t easy then he dishes out an uppercut. Attention he who governs us, the fuck is up with budget cuts? I’m living off a couple bucks, you’re salary just doubled up. They want a couple lines in double time. But fuck that, I’ll talk normal like a stubborn mime. (Get it?) These rappers never understand me. Still I’ll wet them in their panties. Like they’re flustered and it’s summertime. (Hook) (Eske) I’m a motherfucking college kid. How the hell you think I’ll make the money to get on the grid? I’m dreaming in my Blackhawks snapback, Wayfarers, matte black, blasting YC’s Racks. And It’s ironic that I’d listen to that. Cuz I don’t have any racks to be bringing on back, my job doesn’t give me that, I’m scrounging for the fucking scraps They’re telling me, “Matt I’m sorry, but we have a fucking hours cap.” So it’s not like I’m not showing an initiative, they just don’t have the time for me, their actions are indicative. And I don’t even have a legitimate job, I’m scared that I’ll graduate from Marquette and be a fucking slob. (So what’s the prob?) The problem is, I just don’t give a fuck. Recording on a budget, I’m all in, I hope I double up. Eske and B-Money taking over when we’re going in. Phil Ivey flow, I’m in this game for the fucking win. (HOOK) Yeah, It's on my mind It's always on my mind It's on my fucking mind Class In Session, bitch. Eske, B-Money White Boy Takeover meets Sky High Clique
7.
Motivation 04:10
Put your hand inside of mine and we’ll ride off together. I’ll stick it out with you, despite the stormy weather. And I know we’re at each others necks like all the time. But once the grime is wiped off the surface our love is too sublime. These mountains we’ll climb, Yeah we’ll get through it all. And when it comes to you, just know that I will never stall To give you everything that you’d be needing from a man. Cause I’m stripped of all my armor when before I would have ran Away from all your love, but you lift me up above And make me think that I don’t need to smoke this bag of funny stuff. You’re way more than enough, so just stop acting to tough. Please tear down all your walls, and unlock each and every cuff around your heart. (HOOK) We’ve been together for a year, but there’s much time to grow. I’ll be you’re motivation, so just tell me where to go. Babe, we’ll steer this boat, work to keep this ship afloat. I’ll keep fighting for you and screaming out till I kill my throat. And I know you’d do the same. We both would share the blame. If this relationship that we have would just go up in flames. But you are my dame, and I am your guy. And I know that we’re sticking with each other ‘till the day we die. So what are you contimplatin’? We must use dictation. Cuz we know our main frustration is our communication. But still I love you so, and I’ll never let you go. Cuz every time you look at me, yeah you never cease to glow. (HOOK) So dim the lights down, let’s make it right now. There’ll be no fighting now, petty shit we won’t allow. Show me your motivation, and I’ll show you mine. Open a bottle of wine, kick back and waste the time. But time is never wasted when I spend it all with you. I love you baby, and don’t ever get that misconstrued. I know we fight sometimes, but that shit’s not an issue. Cuz through the thick and thin, you’re the girl I wanna stick to.
8.
It’s the young college undergrad, Rock a button-up that’s plaid. Head up in the clouds, cuz I wanna be the next big fad. Turn the volume up a tad. Blaring all the speakers out. Living in Wisconsin dude, I eat my brat with sourkraut. Drinking on the darkest stout, and puffing on the ripest buds. Brad and me look so damn clean, they call us team Pup n’ suds. Rolling on this Jonson beat, tear it up like I was blade. Stab it with a steak so it won’t rise out of the fucking grave. Need a shave, got that dirty bum swagger. Full beard and hat head from my snapback, looking haggard. Compete with me? My words will shove a dagger down your throat. I’ll just sit there laughing while you choke, like that’s all she wrote. (HOOK) Yeah, you know what it is Fucking white kids coming in here and taking over the game Just get on our fucking level dude. Ayo, B-Money. Tell the people what you think. (BKnitts) I think the people like me cuz I spit that real stuff. I mean, I’m kinda like the rap verison of Neil Young. I mean, It’s hard for them to listen and not feel dumb. These douchers goin’ stupid like it’s Soulja Boy and steel drums. Fuck it, challenge me, I dare you dude. I’m in a room full of other rappers, bet there ain't nobody there to compare me to. I’m sick, ugh, Rick Ross ain’t got shit on this. I can make a cripple run, I can make a pig vomit. Car made of diamonds, Wine up in the canteen. I abort these haters like B-Money stands for Plan B. Get it? I put these kids down like naptime. Gonna beat ‘em in their nightmares ‘till they motherfucking flatline. (HOOK) ‘Namsayin? We got mustaches up in this. We got flat brims, you know. I’ll keep it relative, like a dad and son. Two white suburban rappers, yup that is us. Challenge us, battle us, take a swing, batter up. More hoes on our side than a motherfucking ladder truck. Gotta get it how I live it, when I put ‘em in a rhythm, bet they’re never gonna get a word in, whoah, bring it back What’s my frame of mind? P-p-picture perfect. Yeah, get your canon, take a snapshot I’m at a rapper’s throat like a motherfucking ascot. Eske, Class In Session, I’m the fucking class clown. Not talkin’ bout sit ups when I suggest you back down. Boy, you ain’t no rapper, you’re a motherfucking cash cow. Sadly enough, the milk is getting kind of flat now. (HOOK) Oh, I see what you did there. Yeah, that was a...marketing reference Cool bro. Lemme show you how it's really done. (Eske) We’re clowing all you sorry fucks like you were juggalos. Bitch, I’m writing rhymes inside my simple college bungalow. We make good music, while these others put on puppet shows. Claiming that you’re hip hop? We’re more raw than you will ever know. A couple white kids from the ‘burbs, going ham. Bitch I’m harder than cement, you’re looking soft like Aubrey Grahm. Or Wheelchair Jimmy, cuz you rap like you were handicapped. Oh, and Eli Porter called, he wants his fucking swagger back. I’m flexing on ya like I’m Arnold in the eighties. (Grunt) And if you touch my cookies, you won’t ever go home safely Compared to me you’re just a skinny dude that hails from Haiti. Bitch, I’ll break you like a twig, and you’ll be pushing up some daisies.
9.
(Intro) Eske. That kid from down the block. And I’m not talking about the hood. I’m talking about the culdesac. And I know you’ve probably never heard anyone from there rap before but.. Pay close attention (Verse 1) Suburbs 101, When Eske’s on the beat It’s over and done. I’ve been sitting on this throne, my ring gleams in the sun. Another rapper on my level, homie there can be none. You know I battle like I’m Charlie Sheen, I’ve already won But first, I’ll ask missy just to pass that dutch. I’m King Midas, cuz this track has turned to gold in my clutch. Ripping beats like it was hammertime, I can’t be touched. Cuz I’ve been smoking bones and drinking just a little too much. HAH…a fucking slacker, check my GPA. Sipping on a glass of tonic mixed with Tanqueray Living like there’s no tomorrow, cuz tomorrow’s today. And I don’t ever want to graduate, it causes dismay. Ugh, and all these motherfuckers don’t know shit about me, So before you get to doubting, listen to the words I’m spouting. I’m an overflowing faucet, and you fools just get to drowning. Try to keep up with the sharks, boy your teeth are only crowning. You think that you’re a rapper? man, you must be fucking clowning. I’ve seen beggars earning more than you will ever be amounting. Call me Fielder, I knock it out the park, you’re just fouling. cuz I’m Prince of this Milwaukee shit, to me you will be bowing. Screaming “Long Live The King!”, and just in case your mind is clouding, B-Money is the name that you should all be fucking shouting. Meditating on you haters, cuz that man is “Zen as Fuck” And his mind has been enlightened, while you other rappers stuck. Man we talk about the burbs while you talk about the trap Catch us chillin poolside, clad in goggles and a cap Brad’s sucking down a MaiTai while I just take a nap Getting red from all the sun cuz we’re a couple blanco chaps. Uh, Man I’m living the dream like Joseph Gordon Levitt “Sir, there’s not enough on your card”, well charge that shit to credit. Spend all my days just browsing on reddit. Once you listen to my music, you’ll be cheering, go get it! Like: (HOOK) Go white boy, it’s your birthday Go white boy, it’s your birthday (What?) Go white boy, it’s your birthday (That shit’s corny as fuck dude…) Go white boy, it’s your birthday And I don’t give a fuck how cheesy I am. Kraft blue box on you bitches, I’m the cheesiest man. You think I care about the way that you’re perceiving me, damn. I couldn’t give a shit, I haven’t since the day this began. So unless you find some laxitives, then that’ll stay the same. Cuz I live my life for me, impressing yous just not my aim. Man I’ll stick to what I know, that’s what separates my name From all these lames that sold out for a little fame, ain’t that a shame? (yep) Man all those poser rappers make me want to vomit. It’s just sad you have to act like someone else to fill your wallet If that’s how this game of music is, then I don’t ever want it. I’ll just stick to smoking blunts and floating round amongst the comets. So step into the gauntlet and I’ll tear you all to shreds. Call me Maximus, I’m never gonna stop until you’re dead. For the lies that you have said, I’ll snatch that crown up off your head They’ll be chanting this while I just spit the truth in your stead, like (HOOK) Go white boy, it’s your birthday. Go white boy, it’s your birthday Go white boy, it’s your birthday Go white boy, it’s your birthday Yeah uh, do it Uh yeah, get it Uh, bitch...(record scractch) (Woman's voice) Matt, what the hell are you doing? Uhm...I..uhm, nothing, yeah. Er, nothing...
10.
Cameras 03:34
(Verse 1) Man, I’m just cruising in the black Honda Civic, right beside my boy Scott. And He’s rolling up a fatty with this bag of green we got. We open up the sunroof, kick my feet on the dash. Spark this joint and flick the ash off until the shit’s cashed. We got our stash in his bag in the back. As I take my iPhone out and plug it into the jack. Kick some Double Cheesburgers by the Odd Wolf Pack And theres no worries in our brain, we got more in the sack. We just ride around the city with the windows down. Mac Miller flow bitch, you won’t ever see me frown. Monster in the holders, Ray Bans on my nose. Where’s our destination? No one rightly knows. Living life fast, and it never ever slows. They say to keep a camera, Well I guess that I suppose but I say we use our eyes, and not some film that’s exposed. When you don’t have time to take a picture, that’s the way it goes. (HOOK) (Verse 2) I’ve been staying pretty busy, trying to get this mixtape done. Gonna stun the fucking masses with this shit I do for fun. It’s been cutting into classes, but as long as I am passing, I don’t really see a problem with this music I’ve begun. So while I’m sitting here in the passenger seat, I’m pressing down the recline button and hitting this sweet. A fucking swisher with some piff inside, until it’s complete. Cruising all around the neighborhood and green route the streets. Got the black and white nike classic sweets on my feet. And I’m not packing any heat except the bars that I keep. Because as far as intelligence goes, I got a heap. So if this game shuts me out, through it’s cracks I will seep. Man, you better not be sleeping on a kid like me, I got a college education, you got GED’s Life is moving too fast for me to ever say cheese. Cuz I be going with the flow, like some leaves in the breeze. (HOOK) (Bridge) We’re living life one day at a time So if you’re ready for a ride, Scott is willing to drive. You an catch us on the freeway, doing 85. Not a care in the world, feeling so alive. The lifestyle that we’re living is what I would prescribe To people looking for a change of pace in their daily vibe. On top of the world, not knowing what will unfurl. Cruising all around the city, smoking green until my mind twirls.
11.
I Get It In 02:31
(Intro) Yeah, Class is now in session Let's get it. (Verse 1) Eske’s taking shots like he was 50, it ain’t nothing I took four to the gut already and theres five more coming. All you do is see me stunting boy, call me Jackie Chan. I’m just beating up this beat like only Breezy fucking can. Yeah, I’m immature as fuck man, you can call me childish Sipping neat whiskey like my heritage was irish. Oh he so stylish with that snapback sox hat. Smoke a couple bowls and fuck shit up on mortal kombat. I tell you, I’ll take the rap game out to dinner Buy a bottle of Merlot and take her home cuz I’m a sinner. Grab a rubber that is thinner, just to stick it in her innards, Yet the whiskey makes it hard for me to stick her, but I get it in (Hook) I get it, I get it, I get it, I get it in. I get it, I get it, i get it in. (x3) (Verse 2) It’s Man vs. The World, you can call me Scott Pilgrim. And if they touch my Ramona, I swear I’ll fucking kill them. But I just want to thrill them, I dream to rock a crowd. And I know it’s just a fantasy, that fact I have avowed. Man I’ll never be considered a good rapper cuz I’m light-skinned. It’s like a sailboat trying to go against the wind. But I don’t give a hoot about what they say. The only thing this owl cares about is smoking some hay. Staying out all night, and sleeping in all day. Rock some fucking boat shoes and a tee from Obey. Uh, and I’m the man on the moon now that Kid Cudi’s gone. So I pray that these people get it after every song… (Hook) (Verse 3) Uh, All these faggots think they know me. But they can make like STIHL and fucking blow me. These people are below me cuz I’m only coming up. Feed me beats like Adam Richman yo, I’m hungry as fuck I’m on my ballin’ each and everyday, call me Donald Glover. And my girls got birth control, so I’ll never use a rubber. Man, my Visa card is maxed-out, do you take discover? Leaving shit to the last second but I always beat the buzzer. Uh, my rhymes are flowing forever, no period. So I don’t need the kotex haters bring me in a myriad. Oh wait, you’re serious? You think I really give a shit? I’m like Liam Neeson in Taken, bitch I’ll never quit.
12.
Copy, Paste 02:58
(Intro) Uh, Class is now in session Hey Diggy, think I should hit ‘em with a couple bars? (Verse 1) Uh, Check my empty pocket swag. I tell ‘em rock some chucks, they got a cheaper price tag, uh. 50 bucks to lace ‘em up and look cleaner. Cuz they put the perfect finishing touches on my demeanor. They’re all black, so they call me grim reaper. Man, I’m bringing death to all these instrumentals at my leisure. And these peeps are sleeping on me, but they’ll all start having seizures Once they open up their ears, they’ll follow me like the leader. Pied piper on the track, they’ll be catching Eske Fever. Try to copy every feature, but I tell them that I won’t ever stop.. (Hook) I Keep my Locs up on the brim of my fitted Red White sox hat, you can see it in the stiching. yeah And the shades are off the five dollar bargain rack Cuz I can’t afford to get my favorite pair of Oakley’s back. So you know that I’m not buying my beats. I’m a broke college student trying to make ends meet. Recording songs on GarageBand, yet I’m still making heat. But it’s hard to compete when they got mics to make their voice pop. While the only one I’m using is built in my laptop. Yet my head’s still in the clouds and I know that that won’t ever stop. (Hook) (Bridge) Copy, paste. There’s no time to waste. I’m recording my first mixtape so these people better brace. Class is now in fucking session, so I run to it with haste. Teacher saying, “Once again you’re late. Sit down and take your place.” While I scramble to take notes so I won’t be a disgrace to my parents. But I tell them I love hip-hop and I won’t ever stop.
13.
(Intro) Class Is In Session. But not for much longer. (Verse 1) Time is flying so fast, I just don’t comprehend it. It’s like God has took me by the heels and just upended my life. The first three years of higher learning flew right by, and I don’t know if what I’m studying will help me to apply to jobs that pay a salary, and not this bullshit hour wage. I’m sick of working dead-end jobs, fuel is empty, check the gague Running on the fumes, I’m trying to turn over a brand new page. And without the support I have, I know I’d just succumb to rage. (Hook) Trapped inside a cage, thought I’d lost the key. But all the good things in my life have set me free. It’s like the only things I really need are good friends, and my girl. And my family all behind my back, cuz they’re my whole damn world. Uh, My parents told me that someday I’ll be what’s in my heart. All it takes is lots of work, and some ambition just to start. Yet I question what they’ve told me, what if it’s all not enough? But nothing is worth having without risks, so I’ll be tough. (Verse 2) I keep on writing so I don’t go fucking crazy Spitting dirt nasty flows, like it’s fucking 1980. But wait, I don’t know what that’s like, cuz I was born in ’89. My drug of choice is green, I stay far away from coke lines. Take Soulja Boi and Lil’ B’s beat and make it mine. Cuz neither did it justice when they had the chance, so I’ll refine The lyrics, make it real, and not some bullshit ‘bout a milli. Let alone two. You may got money, but you’re sounding silly Yet I feel I’m…. (Hook) Trapped inside a cage, thought I’d lost the key. But all the good things in my life have set me free. It’s like the only things I really need are good friends, and my girl. And my family all behind my back, cuz they’re my whole damn world. Uh, My parents told me that someday I’ll be what’s in my heart. All it takes is lots of work, and some ambition just to start. Yet I question what they’ve told me, what if it’s all not enough? But nothing is worth having without risks, so I’ll be tough. (Verse 3) I’ve saved none of my earnings so I’m scared beyond my wits The real world’s coming at me like Clay Matthews on a blitz. And I hope that it won’t sting as much as that would when it hits. It just makes me want to take this rhyming shit and call it quits. Uh, but the words they all keep saying fuel my drive. Got ambition like I’m Pac, so I’ma ride it till I die. I don’t have much talent, but my heart is in my rhymes. So I pray that I’m like Rudy, and I’ll get my chance to shine. But for now I’m right here, roasting ounces of that lime. Doing things that make me smile, cuz I don’t get to most the time. Cut back on all the partying, got schoolwork on my fucking mind. But I still take a moment just for trouble with the stubborn mime. Along with all of Sky High Clique, smoking all your bud up quick. If you bring your nugs to match, you better make sure that they stick. But I can’t be smoking grass much longer, and I know it’s hard, Cuz I’m freed from all the stresses everytime this green is charred. (Hook) Trapped inside a cage, thought I’d lost the key. But all the good things in my life have set me free. It’s like the only things I really need are good friends, and my girl. And my family all behind my back, cuz they’re my whole damn world. Uh, My parents told me that someday I’ll be what’s in my heart. All it takes is lots of work, and some ambition just to start. Yet I question what they’ve told me, what if it’s all not enough? But nothing worth having is without risks, so I’ll be tough. Yeah, Class In Session Eske (yeah..)
14.
(Intro) Eske. Class is now in session. (Laughing) (Verse 1) Before I get up on this beat I gotta roll a swisher sweet Grab that pad and pen and then get lifted out my seat. Uh, you know what it is, Big Eske on the beat, Always keep a fly pair of nikes on my feet. Man, I got these other rappers stressing, gonna teach ‘em a lesson When it’s my turn to get on the mic, I’m just making confessions I ain’t messing. So take a seat and get up in this smoking session I’ll start professing, oooh, whats on my mind, the goals in my world. Cuz the only thing I’m dreaming ‘bout is diamonds and girls, di-diamonds and girls. Theres no telling if a career in rap for me could ever unfurl. But still, I’m praying to god that I might be a success, as well as hoping that my mom won’t find the bag that I buy next, This habit’s got me living check to check, but it’s worth it when I inhale the smoke and feel it’s effects, yeah. (Hook) And the Nikes on my feet keep my cypher complete (x3) (Verse 2) Chilling in the Honda civic with my boy Scott. We’re bout to ride around this city with a bag of pot. Man we aren’t doing squat, we just ride around Blasting out the speakers while we’re lifted right up off the ground. Kings of the town, check the fucking crown. Kicking back as we listen to the soothing sounds. Laughter is abound, as we stop at gas city, Cop a white owl blunt and break another one down. Only white grapes, fuck Swisher Sweets. Cuz the aftertaste leaves myself feeling incomplete. Other blunt wraps can’t even try to compete. So as I’m sitting right here in my passenger seat I listen to the beat, hit the blunt so discreet. Watch the nugget deplete, so we hit up our connect. Collect another bag to puff on, what the fuck’d you expect? Trying to clear our minds with a medicine that’s so correct. (Hook) (Outro) (Professor): Ahem, excuse me everyone, before you leave, make sure that you read chapter two for homework. And be prepared to discuss it in class. Also, O-fest is starting next week, so if you are interested in joining an extracurricular activity, please be sure to attend. That will be all for today, class is dismissed. Wait, who is that in the front row that smells like Marijuana?? (Eske): Oh shit! (Professor): Get back here! (Laughter)

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released December 17, 2011

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Eske Milwaukee, Wisconsin

Eske is an independent hip hop artist currently living in Milwaukee, but raised in the Southwest suburbs of Chicago. At 23 years old, Eske is your typical college graduate: struggling to make ends meet. He's been making music for about 3 years now, and it's his way of letting off steam. He prides himself in his lyrical prowess and real content. Currently working on "The Graduate" mixtape. ... more

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