Verse 1:

It's like one for the microphone two for the camera

Three for deadbeats vagabonds panhandlers

Street scramblers alleyway managers

Substance abusers born losers mic damagers

Everybody screamin' representin' keep it real

But I'm still a worthless bum tryin' to get a record deal

Peep my lingo and every wise word the man speaks

I've been living on the streets and haven't showered for weeks

But time moves forward, there's no looking back

I'm homeless in pursuit of a record contract

I wish my whole crew was paid in full like Rakim's

But instead we're malnourished with skeleton-like limbs

Instead of a land cruiser with BBS rims

I got a busted pair of boots, and they're not even Tims

See most mc's claim their pockets stay knotted

Puttin' money in the bank, but point blank, I ain't got it

I used to pump chums, for money in lump sums

But now I snatch crumbs with a thousand young bums

I'm the everfresh, what I still possess remains measureless

My brain contains jewels and gems like a treasure chest

Raw deal, no lie, that's the real

And I can't remember the last time I had a hot meal

Society labels me a bum, and that's right

My crew keeps it tight, bums of the world let's unite



Chorus:

This one's for all the neighborhood bums

To all my brothers in the gutters, in the slums

In every city, no matter where you're from

To all my boys, make noise if your bum

(Repeat)



Verse 2:

Allow me to explain the mission, the pain infliction

I entertain so listen, my style rocks like Jane's Addiction

Mc's don't impress me, they know not to test me

We'll be at each other's throats like Mr. Belvedere and Wesley

Especially, when wack rappers open up their mouse traps

They know not to tangle with these bums from the outback

You see you can't miss what you've never had

The life of a bum really isn't half bad

We're never alone, cause bums travel in packs

We combine fine lyrics with underground tracks

We rock the best shows, placin' mc's on stress mode

You can tell a fellow bum from his raggedy dress code

We rock raggedy kicks, and wear raggedy pants

We rock raggedy mics, and sing raggedy jams

like,



(Group of bums)

The bums have the right to lay the down the law

The bum train is leavin' from track number four



The bummy engineer is the Last Emperor

Hard rock like The Thing from the Fantastic Four

While most mc's rhyme about guns and shootin'

I drop science on their domes just like Sir Isaac Newton

Big up to Q in Brownsville, that never runs

Lift up your fist and shout, long live the bums



Chorus



Verse 3:

Crack your brew, light your spliff, it doesn't make a dif

Creamy light peanut butter, choosy mothers choose Jif

Overlord of the poor, man not a myth

It's the Last Emperor that you don't want to flex with

I'll place mental lacerations and allesions

On mc's and domestic and foreign legions

I might be flambeau, but read a book of allesions

The emperor switches up styles every season

In the spring, I do my thing, relaxin' and that's it

In the summer, just like a pirate, I attack ships

But winter maybe, my favorite, one of all, but Jamal

Is a Legend of the Fall, just like Brad Pitt

I'm known to lyrically black shots on behalf of have nots

Lock it down with the sound, equipped with chains and padlocks

No gadgets, no gimmicks, no tricks up my sleeve

And I won't play the Superman role like Christopher Reeve

See you can learn a lot from a dummy

Keep it real, better yet in '98, let's keep it bummy

Bein' broke is no prob, you don't have to rob

But if you're frustrated cause you can't find a job

Have no fear the emperor is here to help ya

Respect to all my bums, I'll catch you back at the shelter