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I know the feelin, when you feelin like a villain,
You be havin good thoughts but the evils be revealin’.
And the stresses of life can take you off the right path,
Jealousy and envy tends to infiltrate your staff…
We gotta hold it down so we can move on past
All adversities, so we can get through fast.
Wear this tee while you are rolling down the street, smokin indo, and/or sippin on gin & juice. Or just to work, school, wherever.
Shop NowThis is my time, this is my hour,
This is my pain, this is my name, this is my power.
If it’s my reign, then it’s my shower,
This pole position…I made a lane ‘cause they blocked ours.
Why do I need ID to get ID?
If I had ID, I wouldn’t need ID.
Girls stick like Crazy Glue, they think they’re gettin’ dough;
But I treat hoes like drugs: I just say ‘No.’
You heard about, through word of mouth,
Big Bird is out, he’s in the house.
He’s turnin’ up, with Snuffleup,
They’re really gettin’ their hustle up.
They stick together like Velcro,
There Grover go, there’s Elmo.
And Cookie Monster there, look he likes
To take selfies with his cell phone.
They got a homegirl named Abby,
Her last name is Cadabby,
I showed her my report card,
She said, ‘Not too shabby!’
They got all types of cool kids there,
It’s lots of fun if you live there,
One thing I keep forgettin’ about Sesame Street…
How do you get there?
Every time I write these words they become a taboo,
Making sure my punctuation curve, every letter here’s true,
Living my life in the margin, and that metaphor was proof.
Rhymes so def, rhymes rhymes galore,
Rhymes that you’ve never even heard before.
Now if you say you heard my rhyme, we gonna have to fight,
‘Cause I just made the muthafuckas up last night!
A day to God is a thousand years,
Men walk around with a thousand fears.
The true joy of love brings a thousand tears,
In the world of desire, there’s a thousand snares.
If you go platinum, it’s got nothing to do with luck,
It just means that a million people are stupid as fuck.
The snake, the rat, the cat, the dog…
How you gonna see ‘em if you livin’ in the fog?
Those who flashin’ don’t blast, they still buffoons,
Just blowin out hot air, they should fill balloons.
I’m like them shorties that could kill for goons,
They started hustlin’ in April to cop wheels in June.
He rolls down his window and he started to say:
‘It’s all about making that GTA.’
And as for the critics, tell me I don’t get it.
Everybody can tell you how to do it, they never did it.
My days getting shorter, my nights getting longer,
My cell getting smaller, my son getting taller.
I exercise my mind, my body getting stronger,
But my blood getting colder, heart getting harder.
My chances for appeal getting slimmer,
My skin getting brighter, my hair getting thinner.
See, when you stressed out, you could age fast in here,
I done seen weak niggas not last a year.
So before lights out, I write my kids every night,
Kiss the stamp on the kite,
And say a prayer…I hope it lands safe in these flights,
I pray they sleep safe through the night.
Try to teach my son right, give him some jewels,
But it’s hard to raise my boy from this visiting room.
Many cells turned to prisoner’s tombs,
I just pray I don’t die in here,
And last night I almost cried a tear.
When I get involved, I give it my heart,
I mean my mind, my soul, my body: I mean every part.
But if it doesn’t work out, yo, it just doesn’t.
It wasn’t meant to be, you know, it just wasn’t.
I’m a street genius with a unique penis,
Got fly chicks on my dick that don’t even speak English.
If I wasn’t in the rap game,
I’d probably have a key knee-deep in the crack game.
Because the streets is a short stop:
Either you’re slinging crack rock or you got a wicked jump shot.
Perm in your hair or even a curly weave,
Wichya New Edition Bobby Brown button on your sleeve.
I tell you come here, you say, ‘Meet me half way,’
Cause brothers been popping that game all day.
All I see is sissies in magazines smiling…
Whatever happened to wildin’ out and being violent?
Whatever happened to catching a good, old-fashioned, passionate ass whoopin’?
And getting your shoes, coat and your hat tooken?
My momma did her part,
But it ain’t her fault that I was born without a heart.
In other words: I’m heartless dude.
I don’t love me…how the fuck I’mma love you?
My new shorty got a gymnastic back,
‘87 emerald green on a classic Jag.
She had the cleft palate, I ordered chef’s salad;
She had the club foot, with that little arm,
I couldn’t help but laugh…she ordered Chicken Parm.
We live in a society created by an empire
That’s based on terror…welcome to the One World Era,
A complete interruption to your lil’ paltry-ass life,
That you thought you was livin, and what you been given.
Others tell like it is, while I tell it how I would like it to be.
This thing called rhymin’ is no different than coal minin’;
We both on assignment to unearth the diamond.
They say that love is powerful as cough syrup and Styrofoam.
All I know is I fell asleep and woke up in that Monte Carlo
With the ugly Kardashian…
Lamar, oh, sorry. Yo, we done both set the bar low.
Mark you for death, won’t even talk that East or West crap.
From Watts to Lefrak, it ain’t where ya from, it’s where’s your gat.
Anything worth having is hard to keep,
I love you like my coffee, so hot and so sweet.
So, let’s stick it out so we never regret it,
I could forgive the past–but I never forget it.
I don’t understand the difficulty, people;
Love your brother, treat him as an equal.
Redman ready to rock rough rhymes,
Renegade rapper, rip when it’s rhyme time.
Punk push a pen and pencil when I’m pissed,
Pack pistol posse, flow some more pro shit.
Your whole appearance is a lie and it could never be true.
And if you really loved yourself, then you would try and be you.
What is competition? I’m tryna raise the bar high,
Who tryna jump and get it? You better off tryna skydive
Out the exit window of 5 G5’s with 5 grand
With your granddad as the pilot he drunk as fuck tryna land
With the hand full of arthritis and popping prosthetic leg
Bumpin Pac in the cockpit so the shit that pops in his head
Is an option of violence, someone heard the stewardess said
That your parachute is a latex condom hooked to a thread.
I’ve seen niggas transform like villain Decepticons,
Mollies’ll prolly turn these niggas to fuckin’ Lindsay Lohan.
A bunch of rich ass white girls lookin’ for parties,
Playin with Barbies, wreck the Porsche before you give ‘em the car key.
Bummy nigga famous, straight from the bottom,
Broke niggas hate it, still never robbed ‘em.
Guns in the basement, out they have a problem,
Kush be my fragrance, we love marijuana.
I got a girl and she treat me fine,
But the homies all think that I’m losin’ my mind.
I’m trippin’ and I know it cause I’m all nerved up,
Cause everytime I go to sleep, I see this big ol’ butt.
See, I ain’t never gave no chick 4 stars,
But she treat me so good that she be drivin my car.
And every day it get better, I can’t lie,
Went to the house and she made me some hot potato pie.
All my friends be sayin, “She ain’t nothin but a scrub!”
But she make me feel high like I’m hooked on drugs.
So I give her what she need, and what’s done is done,
But I’m a special kind of fool but ayo, it don’t bother me none.
I can’t help myself, I know that I’m trippin’,
But she got it goin’ on like Kentucky Fried Chicken.
It seem like everybody dress tight now,
And I just want my credit.
What you base your happiness around?
Material, women, and large paper?
That means you inferior, not major.
You can’t take the heat, get ya ass out the kitchen
Matter fact, take ya ass back in there and wash the dishes.
Food for thought, so get a buffet plate.
The lyrics are so fat you might gain weight.
I wish I didn’t get searched when I come through customs.
I wish Christians stop beefin’ with Muslims,
Wish the poor didn’t have to take welfare,
Wish America had universal health care…
Cause ain’t no help here.
Though the meek shall inherit the earth, but don’t forget:
The poor are the ones who inherit the debt.
Trapped on a planet of pain and perpetrators
That you call ‘Earth,’ but I call ‘Hell’s Equator.’
The mind is a terrible thing to waste.
I show love cause it’s a terrible thing to hate.
The first lady in my life, but now you’re gone,
I learned through the years to keep carrying on.
Your picture brings me tears and memories,
The way things could be…and they should be, but they’re not.
Guns and the sneakers made Jada.
The bitches and the reefer came later
With the money and the haters.
Don’t sell yourself to fall in love,
With those things you do…
I circumnavigate the globe with a one-liner like latitude.
I live by the beat like you live check to check.
If you don’t move your feet then I don’t eat,
So we like neck to neck.
To all the seeds that follow me,
Protect your essence.
Born with less, but you still precious,
Just smile for me now.
I’m surrounded by psychopathic little fellas,
Ghetto dwellas, with ammunition in their cellas,
And no remorse in their hearts
When the shit starts it don’t end…
Until somebody’s gone with the wind.
Life can change your directions, even when you ain’t planned it.
All you can do is handle it, worst thing you can do is panic.