Lyrics:
later in March of 2017
Performed at SXSW for Urban Fêtes (at Peckerheads)
Half blinded by the truth Jack Thriller can see
A young star left eye, nah it
card in your fuckin life
You don't any means to make fuckin money
[thug] What? What the fuck you talkin bout mayn?
[Keith] You fuckin stupid, plantella
the dead, yeah God taught me (God taught me)
Grew up on Jon Keith and Monty and Andy
And learned all these problems can't stop me (coming in hot)
Life
cause
Pole position my verbal contact no life support
We'll maintain position lift off to ignition
Frequency feedback provide ammunition
The brain
can't compete
(100) all by myself, I'm 100 deep
I was on the first 50
Now the powers at a dollar
Politician pushing tracks in it, mayor
I president in it
better than great, heh heh
Uh in fact, I might just be top five
All-time, or at least top ten, well
Maybe nine minus five, divided by two
Minus the amount
tell you some stories and crazy facts
See there was Keith Urban in our grade 12 summer
You know Jacqui Paris dropped us off after supper
See we didn’t
(Dmac on the fuckin' track)
My lifestyle get wild lifestyle get
My lifestyle get wild, it get crazy
Lil' baby if I go to prison
Would you hold me
by the boobies, booby trapped
All white Bentley, I call that mama
My life crazy, like Obama's
You talk slick? Well I'm Osama
Bin Laden, I'm
straight line's the crookest way anywhere
So don't be swayed by these fools
Live your life right, baby pa, you know the rules
Never ever show disrespect
reception
On this Urban Groovz Track
Feeling Good, Feeling Fine
Not A Care on my mind
Life has drama, put that away
Celebration's here today
Let me pour
genetically modifying soil microbes
Or doing a better job than nature by producing bio-synthesized fake food in a lab
They think they can bring history
midnight marauders (Get off the block)
Gotta stack six figures
Ain't about pulling triggers (Life's valuable)
Carried by six buried under
Senseless death
Allie played
Now we delayed by ninety days
You better find me anyways
You better return to the Terrordome, ain't nobody home
Non-haters play
or that sling, the yea or the tracks
but when your chick starts choking ya, you gots ta break me off
I sweat ya like Keith until ya give me my ends
I walk through cold nights in the streets, Timberland booted feet
Headphones with hot beats, runnin' tracks like meets
Transform it 3D when I step
Be ok
Rainy day
Shine by faith
Life's a struggle it'll be ok
We gone all see rainy days
Gotta know the sun'll shine by faith
Born to rise cause we're
Two-thousand-three baby, Kool Keith, I'm up in here
Very different - and he wants to talk to you
Admire his immaturity
Took you away to better
It's on now
Feel threatened by this
T-Squad
T.S.
Takin shit
[ VERSE 1: Armageaddon ]
We 12-cylinder-pushin drug dealer-killers, we feelin this
that make police jet
known to get a priest sweat
i never beg for pussy like keith sweat
is Big L slow? hell no
Bitches get fucked on the roof when i aint
Is you ready?
Back by popular demand
Murderous specialist tactics
Wu Tang Clan no rehearsal or practice
Niggas ain't ready for this
Niggas
Living life as I see it
Urban Picasso with the pen, that I be it
Visions of a better flight
Stamped the passport
Writing til I'm outta sight, gifted
I’ll bet you don’t know the next thing about the hieroglyph-esque reproductive energy of Keith Haring’s murals and sculpture, but still you wear his
tracks will age
Luggin' bars in by tons, son, that stack the page
Settin' traps down fast so rats get played
Slap the glaze off they domes like it's Shasta
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