The Criminal Activists - Recreational Thug

(m.c coco & joey mantis)
I’m create certain things, i’m a recreational thug
Went from livin’ in my momma house to dealin’ drugs
Specifically the drug in my name
Surpass them hard times, while i smoke in the rain
Pass me the microphone, i’m a microphone fiend
I’ll hit em with my melody, like i’m rakim
Joey man on the beat, i’m a stand-off, not defeated
I heard my enemies die by bullets, me? must’ve got killed by a lyricist
I call myself j-o-e, the t-h-u-g, but that could bе me, i guess
Many peoplе wanna talk down, it’s still important that i address the weirdest things
Paper bag hoarding, boat hopping, man if they were still illegal, i wouldn’t be a thug

(tin can)
I got goosebumps like i’m stine
On my way, not wasting time
Remember the time me and my baby went down, i met joey on his street
No other rapper can beat me
Unstoppable group, that how tin can do it
I really do this, never get off the grind
Turn the beat into ash like cigars
I’m like a metallic boat, cause i’m flowing so hard
Keep making money, i’ll turn to a star
Handing out flyers to keep the word spreading, the criminal activists are who they are
I’m an enzyme to a beat, i’m breaking down lyrics, call me c, cause i ain’t making blue, i’m making green (money printing machine)
(tz chemi$try)
And tz hit up deedee
The songs i make on repeat
My momma counted on me, so i’m gonna make her dreamy
I’m making hella cash, and i’m providing for her ❲?❳
Remember when i was little, picking big heaps of trash
Now, listen
The follow your gonna hear is unstoppable
Jacob got me messed up, some things is incomparable
How dare he, now i’m gonna be a king and cheer out, “hear ye”
I’m rapping so fire, they have no other choice but to hear me
The pacifists, activists, they’re all dying in this war
They gotta take off the mask, so we don’t get rid of one more

(joey mantis & funk fresh)
Your mother’s morbidly obese
I can’t go up with cease and desists
You way too paranoid to keep up
Just say your lyrics, dawg
J-o-e, the recreational thug, my snow days were better
Say, it’s not back to pull up back to your old hood
The school i went to was a blast, my old homies was legit
But now i’m out of there, my memories, i know they’ll never fade
Remember seeing jack chill out and smoke some weed with bodega cats
“wassup boss man”, i remember when i used to say that
Don’t mess with fresh, if you don’t want to freshed up off a beat
I’ve said i out produced many p’s
I could have been around for the rest
Yo, joe, where’s the music, dawg?
Marley marl, the synchronizing needs respect (my homeboys do better)
I mean, oh, dissected vee’s a couple of times
Ho’ ldup, cause i need some water, i already used oxygen
You know it’s funk fresh, it’s time for to see if you can outstand me
If you was really tough, then you can join the group, no other standards