to the voice response registration system
 of True School University
 representing universally
 you have added
 hip hop ethics
 one two zero
 for those that don't know
 school's in

 who got the nerve ta
 write a jam that you can swerve ta
 over tracks so fat  the nickname  Big Bertha
 It's probably the kid that half the crews have never hearda
 whose mind travels further
 than sex  drugs  and murder
 so when you play the role of the timeless inserter
 I'm sorry if you're 85 and you would have preferred a
 album full of ignorance
 the place is an experience
 before the reasons why
 for the sake of sounding fly
 but I
 grade your style without the curve
 cuz you don't deserve to
 receive the grade that might let you build up the nerve to
 bite the rhyme that feeds you
 I need you to listen
 my words are whet with crystal-clear wisdom so they glisten
 and I fill in the blanks for all the answers that you're missing
 I'm rolling with the mongoose, cuz snakes is steady hissing
 to expose my flaws like salt in sores
 since they cannot be reformed I simply kill 'em by the fours
 so in other words, nah man, skip the explanation
 see that what the rewind's for, so be patient
 cuz this is the direction that my pen should be draggin'
 to transform your dollar cabs into bandwagons

 Chorus:
 J-Live with the mic is like a chef with a blade
 no doubt
 man I cut ya like lumber
 (repeat)

 you see somewhere in between the old school and the new school
 a master of the next school
 came to teach the now school
 cuz business class was steady playing old tricks on new fools
 so everybody rocks jewels, but can't nobody drop jewels
 one-track-minded, blinded, thinking only pop's cool
 supply & demand rules, replaced by A&R rules
 a scholar of the next school
 who wasn't trying to hear that
 so principals and teachers abroad began to fear that
 "If this guy makes an impact on the students that we play,
 they'll end up having way too much control over their grades!"
 see grades will equal status for power, so just like college
 you're so caught up in letter grades, you skip the 'F'ing knowledge
 (I didn't get this line -- I know I'm missing something)
 so when the listener
 graduates to be an artist
 you still enslaved by the principles because they're heartless
 first they make you imitate another man's skill
 now you use your power for another man's will
 move the crowd's mental when they tell you sit still
 move the crowds pockets instead to get the bread
 yeah that's what the students gather from what the principal said
 they make you think the world bleeds green instead of read
 but class is in session now so all that stuff is dead
 I'm coming through with knowledge and wisdom to fill your head

 Chorus:
 J-Live with the mic is like a chef with a blade
 no doubt
 man I cut ya like lumber
 (repeat X 3)

 "now wait a minute
 what the hell does chopping trees have to do with culinary?"
 that's the spirit kid, analyse the lyric
 from the moment that you hear it, see, cuz most don't have the skill to
 utilize their ears' function as a garbage filter
 so their brain gets clogged and congested
 by the time and the effort that's invested in illusion
 and by the time's definition of reality
 by the time you get the facts, they're outnumbered in confusion
 so I come, to get shit off my chest and up in you
 and I come, to make you feel at home with your power
 and I come, to plant seeds of responsibility
 cuz I come, harder than a sleepless cold shower
 refining and refreshing
 reprimanding
 those who claim they're representing by demanding
 clarity
 cuz when a mouthfull don't equal an eyefull, an earfull sound awful
 at least that's how it seems to me
 so I lead by example in my sound-proof room
 and the comp gets trampled on my wack-proof stage
 and my answers be ample in the packed classroom
 cuz my thoughts are reflected on an ink-filled page