Anne B. Real
Select Music
(Select below to listen to and read the lyrics to songs)
Performed by Janice "Jnyce" Richardson
Written by Luis Moro and Verse
produce by Earthman and mix Shane Conry
SONGS
THE NAME IS NOT BIBLICAL
THEY CALL ME REAL
THIS IS DEDICATED
THE NAME IS NOT BIBLICAL
CLICK PHOTO TO HEAR SONG
Performed by Janice "Jnyce" Richardson
Written by Luis Moro and Verse
Produce by Earthman and mix Shane Conry
A yo, I'm broke and I'm trapped, my hunger for money provoking my rap.
But it feels like, I just lost my life.
I love the presidents with paper who lost their life.
Being a millionaire might embellish my writing fetish, it might just get us financial best.
But they don't realize this stage I'm feeling,
I rather be caught in a stage of millions,
instead of in front of a cheap window with a weed aroma,
combined with the thoughts of my passing of my semen donor.
I'm here to improve my skills from nice to better novice.
I learned from my pops that life is never promise.
If that car in back to the future was real.
it'd be me and my pops in a coop with a deal, getting a lot of doe.
But it's a dream dog,
So I gotta go, I'm a survivor though, with a lotta flow when I'm hotta than lava yo.
You Feel me yet, but the proof in the ghetto is a lot of extortion.
But maybe I'm blowing this money thing outta of proportion.
I need to get out of the dark and start seeking the light.
Word. Maybe yo, my teacher was right. Word.
Maybe I'm a young beautiful girl,
that's new to the world, with suitable pearls for peoples ears.
Maybe my poetic skills they seek to hear.
The Anne baby, the name is not biblical,
listen I'm no longer in this lyrical prison.
And, I'm free, not dumb; I'm me, hot sun.
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CLICK PHOTO TO HEAR SONG
Performed by Janice "Jnyce" Richardson
Written by Luis Moro and Verse
Produce by Earthman and mix Shane Conry
This is a real rapper here.
They call me Anne B. Real, disrespect in canical pill, if I die females, there ain't a man in my will,
the truth is this loose chick is to exclusive, is my raps you here coming out of Deuce lips.
You need to stop fronting, you sneaking you caught, you don't be rhyming you be speaking my thoughts,
I'm not Fendi, so don't' try to charm this chick, you copy cat harmless twit.
They call me real, but often Annie, my name in the center of New York like Marcus candy.
Cynthia A.K.A. Anne B. Miss Real. I will drop feeling a guaranteed six mill.
This is for my real chicks. Listen to the lyrical thesis, Deuce double-crossed my like two pictures of Jesus
yo mic when I'm done source giving, speak, cause understand dog, I'm real.
top

CLICK PHOTO TO HEAR SONG
Performed by Janice "Jnyce" Richardson
Written by Luis Moro and Verse
Produce by Earthman and mix Shane Conry
This is dedicated to everybody who never made it, that's levitated, for the sick and the medicated,
they try to get some lyrical shine in these critical times, I stress my mistakes put logic in god,
but death is a fate that nobody can dodge. Poverty is there but the government just instigated it.
Yo they love when every minute's wasted. Yo we need to do some true building,
before we loose more than two buildings.
A thugs love is his addiction to fun so bad cops love when we pick up a gun,
see the word perfection only the man above have it in him so it's messed up when I see children having children.
They put drugs in our community to ruin you and me, but it ain't only Hispanic and Blacks see the playgrounds the damage in fact.
They ain't tell you that the joint is police infected and damaged with crack.
Truth hurts, but don't let the logic upset, my women and the opposite sex. Sing for me!
Why do we try, to we cry, to we die, my lord, my lord. There's no love within we struggling.
Why do we try, to we cry, to we die, my lord, my lord. There's no love within we struggling.
The government lives, while I'm broke and sick and tired of being broke and sick and tired.
The problem is they squeeze the truth through a lot of men, if food is the truth, the youth is Somalian.
Educated in you they harass us with the stress. But the biggest gangs got nightsticks and badges on their chest.
If death is to punish us, then why we are born. I get my answers from the higher Koran, the G.D with the O in the middle.
I flow with the riddle that's golden and little, but large in our hearts. I'm provoked but the knowledge entice us,
I'm broke but this knowledge is priceless, consider this an amazing youth,
that will blaze the truth and raise the roof with nothing but power.
Why do we try, to we cry, to we die, my lord, my lord. There's no love within we struggling.
Why do we try, to we cry, to we die, my lord, my lord. There's no love within we struggling.
It's not fair, racism, drugs and poverty, understand it gotta be, it logically.
It's not fair; the government chooses to lie to me.
It's not fair, the truth they hide inside of me
Why do we try, to we cry, to we die, my lord, my lord. There's no love within we struggling.
Why do we try, to we cry, to we die, my lord, my lord. There's no love within we struggling.
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Links to main page for...
l Anne B. Real l The Unseen l Love and Suicide l Venus & Vegas l
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