Blessings! Here is a throwback... I found this old rhyme that I wrote back in early 2002 when I was still with "Q.T. Entertainment" doing the Hip-Hop thing. It was recorded acapella, but I never had the chance to have it fully produced. I wrote it during a time when my trod with Rastafari led me to make a lot of lifestyle changes, but I was also showing ones and ones that my personality and background remained the same. Anyway, I thought it was fun to look at and see the changes since then:
P.S.: All references to violence were metaphorical, my style always tried to challenge the listener while getting the audience going... enjoy... I guess 
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Who Am I, Part Two (copyright 2002)
Who Am I, Part Two, It's been a minute y'all, but I'm back
Most cats in this game have a lot of misdirection yo
That's why I come with the fire and spit intellectual
Words and philosophies topple these hypocrisies
Foundations fall to the ground, I bury them with my sound
You and your cronies, you're all phonies, believe me
I hear a lot of gun talk, in your rhymes but that s*** don't deceive me
When none of you ever committed a crime
None of you even seen a nine
I could call all of you out, but I ain't got the time
Ive been blessed with the wisdom to see past the lies
You can't deal with me strong-arm, I dont compromise
You're sense of reality is fake like the Family Ties
Don't push me around homie, cause you dont match my size
You're shook like Michael J. Fox, claiming that you hold down the blocks
And I'm so slick that you think I roll with undercover cops
Watch youre back cause The Don holds things down
From Newark New Jerz to the scene at Mental-Town
Who am I? The one you must praise
A man for all seasons, a jack of all trades
Who am I? The cure to foolish pride
Expanding the mind, till the day that I die
I already slayed you, shhh I did it on the Quiet Tip
Like Tony did Ralphie, heads will be rollin' when I spit
We goin' bowling hands not included, when I make my strike
Call yourself a public enemy but I dont believe the hype
I the conqueror raised Italiano schooled as dread Rasta
Eatin' everything from ox-tail to pasta, no basta
When I speak, the wicked tremble, hot rhymes essential
I'm the one that all of you cats try to resemble
I grab the microphone like a savage
Propelled by the extra baggage to manage
My mentality so I can shine like the sun
It's burdensome and my heart is still aching some
But that which doesnt kill me can only make me strong
I walk with righteousness and livity cause Jah uplifted me
Fire pon dem, the ones that claim victory
I'll still be teaching until yall get sick of me
Respect, Don Curz, a lion from the tribe Q.T.
Who am I? The one you must praise
A man for all seasons, a jack of all trades
Who am I? The cure to foolish pride
Expanding the mind, till the day that I die
Your fake styles are hysterical
Comparable to the unbearable
All you say is fiction, and I speak with parable
Schooling cats with knowledge sent down from Mt. Zion
No one can conquer I&I, so why ya go tryin'
Theres no denying whose doin the tongue tyin'
I get the girls, that you always keep eyein'
I got the job, no need for applyin'
Better show thanks, givin that I dont serve you turkeys
Like stove top, so hot I'll burn your beef to jerky
Paisano like Soprano, I woke this morning
Make a wrong move, I'll make your folks stay mourning
Funeral procession, brain dead with no question
Youngster you have to behave with some discretion
Before my blazin' lyrics melt your cold steel weapon
I'm the Italian Assassin, vocabulary kills, I'm ill
Sharp wit stumps my enemies, they all stand still
Who am I? The one you must fear
Im about to blow up, so you best stay clear
Who am I? The name is Don Curz
They recite threats, but I kill with words
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