Little inner city Willie much like myself

Was aspiring to touch the higher reaches of wealth

Self propelled by the propaganda of the MC's 

Glamour ride through his eyes vividly on TV

Mesmerized by the likes of these self proclaimed G's 

Fantasized himself to be the fat rat stacking cheese

Armani khaki jeans where they used to be Lee's 

no ties with Master Lock but now speaking of keys

Being seized overseas in big barrels and crates 

but negated to relate he never went out of state

Now consume the toxic logic plus the toxic fumes 

Out of tune and now assumed to be Nom De Plume

Better known as Big Willie 

Now Don't That Sound Silly 

Favorite catch phrase Keep It Real But not really

Still he making ends without an n 

Pushing up a jeep a Lex coupe Beemer and a Benz

Pretends to be the baller down south slanging mo mo's 

back east he lies about ties with Mafioso

In Philly-Illinois he rolled a Caddy Sedan 

and in Oaktown he was the Don Juan of San Fran and beyond

With his companion on the hip and a Friday night ride down the strip



It's a Trip

Look inside the ride MC number 9 by his side sippin' Cristal wine

Tried her best to look fine Wasn't really worth the time

Just an imitation of Will's fraud state of mind

Caught me by surprise. But then I read between the lines 

Heard through the grapevine #5 wrote your rhymes

Check the signs See the decline of income

Going out for the crumb Your style's still dumb



#10 was the label mate of # 8&9 

Whining like a beaatch and bottom line couldn't rhyme

Shining in the lime light but couldn't rhyme tight 

No originality Strictly sound bites

Downright about the worst that I heard verse to verse 

Every word was a curse to the ear

Preferred not to hearing his song 

But no choice but to listen on

His LP wasn't even worth pissing on

Dancin' a jig and thinking he was jiggy 

Everybody's picking him to be the next

But he was over shadowed by the face in the camera

#11 his producer slash manager



Slash amateur slash rapper slash actor slash tapper 

the hit song jacker New nod factor 

turned playboy when he dropped the Craig Macker 

Making rap wacker Ain't mad at ya 

But weekly you tempt me to pimp me the new jiggy on Mtv

The Magnum Cum Laude of my PhD 

I was hating from the jump when you became an MC

Trying to keep it real Without a trace of rap skill

At first it was chill But now it's like over kill

Wanted to build the rep of material objects

R&b niggas switching from rap to rock sets



Yet once again neither one saw the signs

#10's simple mind combined with simple rhymes

defined the prime reason why we had to make it twice

You need to stop rocking ice Learn to rock a mic

I hope my words come as a shock Get off your own jock

Probably why everybody's taking shots

Now it's all about the Benjamins, but 

I'm calling out your feminine strut

Plus it wasn't a surprise that 11 had to capitalize 

Off the late great #8's sudden demise

Cut the lies that he tried to keep it honest

Talkin' 'bout flossin' 

when he shoulda seen an orthodontist

Making promises that he wasn't fulfillin' 

People by the millions Saying they wasn't feeling em 

I guess in all the Hype like William started killin' em 

Dealing in the same fate as their late friend

Once again

There you have it 11 MC's laid to rest