ded. to Pharoahe Monch, a very talent'd emcee the industry ain't ready for yet.. you are bless'd brutha, it'll take time, but they'll come around you was stray bullet fired from Queens into the heart of hip hop cliches dj's, relay'd your image like luminous bat signal to clouds callin' you through mechanical beats chants 'cause hip hop's in need of a medicine man, the/ Ellington "scat" cat who's raps were thrown against the backbone.. of collagin' syllables & beats collagin' syllables u beat repetitively pitchin' prose, peddlin' flows ramblin' rhythms run acoustic, across our eardrums. they ain't ready for the original cat, who's rhyme schemes retired beats like wound'd athletes and actively changed the sound of rap through vocal beat boxin' repetition/ DISPENCIN' lyrics like PEZ you tat2'd taboo into eardrums, & put your world under our eyelids, & I did for a minute. see you spit hopscotch at hip hop & mummify beats tomb'd to Egypt underground like sounds bound to death by deaf ears & they can't catch yuh versatility.. 'cause lyrically you flipp'd deliveries chameleon to beats, like background adapt'd through speech and rhythm&hitwiththelyricaljisms stemmin' syllables through yuh lips like vibration from a dragonfly's wings. I be eargasm addict with habit's hard to kick, so I trip 'cause hip hop is lackin'. I said hip hop's slackin', emcees scared to come different. Troy they're scared of you for bein' different, too.