Lyrics:
sweepin' the nation
Now you got a bunch of unarmed innocent victims
Gettin' fucked by the system
Sittin' at home with a butter knife, huh
Any fool could
And Jackie-
And Jack-
The White House is under attack
Eight years is the limit, but eight will do
By then there'll be Bobby-
-And Teddy, too
'bout that white girl
Feeling good to be black
Ya whole hood I seize that
Breaking down the, fuck all that feedback
Gone by the morning
I landed soon
to say hi
Standin' there like a mime and let the chance pass by
Back of my mind, "He could change your life
With all these beats I did, at least let him
to say hi
Standin' there like a mime and let the chance pass by
Back of my mind, "He could change your life
With all these beats I did, at least let him
I finally found a girl that reverse stress
So now I'm talkin' to the reaper to reverse death
So I can kick it with my granddad, take him for a ride
Types of rhymes you need
I'm not the new jack
Or crew rack I'm like the next man
Cormega, I just got signed to Def Jam
My man Nas is down with me
A lot
Surrounded by people but yet they feel alone
Who wonder round place to place because they have no home
Damn
I think it’s funny that words produce money
Like I
shelf in a two-man hell
Got sick of the profits, stole my own vault
Searching pockets in Paris from a tour walk
They argue white men wouldn't steal from
cassettes and CD's
Produced and arranged by the four-man crew
And oh shit, Skiff Anselm, he gets props too
Make sure you have a system with some phat house
Pour up, tell that waiter bring another drink
Order hundred Jack, we gon' drink it by the bottle
Roll another one, I know you're fiending so I'mma get
Hah Hahahah...
From the dungeons of darkness
Comes God's Gift to Hip Hop
Representin' with the LP
We'll hit 'em hard and fast in a straight
the flow and die
When I walk by say hi to the bad guy
Ayo man, there's just one left
(I'll make a deal with ya)
What? (Ah, ya got one of those
Smoking weed, true indeed
Sick emcees presented by tecca neez
Check it out
Ain't nobody busting like the nigga with a gun up in the middle
Just seen another cover story on me by Forbes (by Forbes)
In a Black Cadillac with the bulletproof doors (doors)
Lit the hotel room up, white ashes
and Hamm'
Er, Murder the streets I'm a wanted man
(But the flow's like dope) So it's on again
Started with the block, hit it brick by brick
Then I charted
and Hamm'
Er, Murder the streets I'm a wanted man
(But the flow's like dope) So it's on again
Started with the block, hit it brick by brick
Then I charted
she spent
She has a car, 1990 brand new Jaguar
Fly kit, with chrome rims that's five star
That she bought when I was away on tour
Hittin' my bank
crew ran away in the crunch
Then I hit 'em with the "Batman" punch
Laugh, if you want but don't approach
Cause most that approach get ate up like toast
a change and a better life and future for their loved ones
So stop all the jack shit
Middle-class households feeling left behind and excluded
With little
worldwide)
You know you don't want it with me (look out for the tour)
You can talk but soon we gon' see (Anger Management)
You don't wanna bump heads with
With your girl, she tryna jerk me (believe)
O-o-okay, Lamborghini Mercy
Your chick, she so thirsty
I-I-I-I-I'm in that two-seat Lambo
With your girl,
spitter yes I am
Rockin the white polo and a
Pair of plaid pants
I'm on the block in fly boy stance with my
Argyle socks and my white and green stans
Yeah,
cassettes and CD's
Produced and arranged by the four-man crew
And oh shit, Skiff Anselm, he gets props too
Make sure you have a system with some phat house
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