Lyrics:
that all music on this album is generated by, A.I
And remember kids, drugs are bad"
(Drugs are bad)
(Drugs are bad)
(Drugs are bad)
(Drugs are bad)
Now they wanna hear a country nigga rap
Five albums in, I swear a country nigga snap
Thought they wanted trap, thought they wanted bass
Thought
Tired of these rappers, tired of these jackers
I'm tired of these dances by these fuckin' backpackers
And I'm sick of all these hipsters, I'm sick
Workin' on the album at the same time, you know what I'm sayin?
Visionary boy (C Sick)
Yeah yeah, uh, yeah, we gon' do it for '96 (yeah)
We gon' do it
Now they wanna hear a country nigga rap
Five albums in, I swear a country nigga snap
Thought they wanted trap, thought they wanted bass
Thought
Numbers don't lie, I ain't going back broke
Hell no! fuck no! I ain't going back to Mexico no more!
Label said I ain't ready for an album
I don't really
Who is the man with the master plan?
DJ Mister Cee
Who is the man with the master plan?
He goes by the name of the Big Daddy Kane
Then it goes
you off
Broad, with the cause (yeah) bitch on a mission
Keep them niggas by they nuts while you hoes be dick kissin
Missing the game, damn bitch it's
Non-stoppin', I'ma hit 'em till the block explode
Hip hop, R&B, Pop-tart, what you want?
I even got a little rock 'n' roll
The most creative, original, got 'em
From video and live show... Not in album yet.
Well, I took down a picture
I keep you in a picture in a frame on the wall
Tryin' to forget her
But I
I went pop and made millions, now all I do is chop samples
Egon's finest, peanuts after like I was Linus
Followed by that College Park next, that's
they swappin'
It's sloppy, it's slimy (slimy)
It's ratchet, it's grimey (ooh)
I'm sinnin', I'm winnin' (winnin')
I'm Dennis Rodman (Rodman)
Hit
dough, never snitch hood nigga principles and
byebye live by and die by nigga
even when im finger fuckin hoes finga on tha trigger
diamonds in ma crucifix
yeah yeah, yeah)
Keeps the world grooving, grooving
Uh uh uh, alright, uh huh
Now if you want to step
You gotta play it by the rules
You gotta
that live by the
Code of blood honor my Flipmode niggas, ha
Spliff bring you that shit to another extreme
Here to hit you motherfuckers with
A strike
to be it
Well are you prepared
I hope you are prepared nigga
'Cause you know this is album number two
Yes more bitches than before
There'll be more
that win
And the enormous fields disperse of rap
On the road to the riches, more furs to drag
More niggas to kill and birds to bag
Hit the jeweler
niggas in the game
A lotta niggas got two albums I can't explain
How they maintain to keep the same migraines
I can't help it if my brain is supersonic
wife-beaters, white t-shirts, white-
I'm the greatest
So you sold 10 million albums, eh? (What?)
Only problem is, you put out 10 million albums, eh? (Haha)
the thorough?
BK forever representin' my borough
Push fly whips, quick to stack my chips
Too easy for you to understand my hits
When the album drops every
something and I got it covered
Somehow always rise above it
Why you think I got my head in the clouds on my last album cover?
The game is all mine and I'm
you act right
By the end of the night
You might get the candy
With the South Side boss Twist that spinach
Put fire on the end of the
Bitch and let me
across the nation
Funk Nation that is
That supported the album
My man Busta Rhymes
My man Grand Puba, check it
Ugh, yeah, Hit Dre in the house
My man
when the dope game got dangerous
In my interviews talking plug talk
On my last album I explained it (I explained it)
With a fork telling you let
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