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I had a church girl, quiet girl…one girl was rich.
The most memorable girl was a Gangsta Bitch.
We went out a lot, sometimes we dressed the same,
Lickin’ shots in the park and had pet names:
I called her ‘Dollars’ cause that’s what she liked to spend;
She called me ‘Diamond’ cause my dick was her best friend.
Shorty, let me tell you about my only vice:
It has to do with lots of lovin’, and it ain’t nuttin’ nice.
Working hard may help you maintain,
To learn to overcome the heartaches and pain.
Unpredictable, liable to flip my lid…
My moms dropped me on my head when I was a kid.
Back then I lost all my marbles, today I lost my job,
So in essence, it’s Armageddon, somebody’s bound to get robbed!
Real niggaz represent and don’t die,
Never dead, like I said, all we fuckin’ do is multiply.
I be tossin’, enforcin’, my style is awesome.
I’m causin’ more Family Feuds than Richard Dawson.
And the survey said: “You’re dead.”
Fatal Flying Guillotine chops off your fuckin’ head!
I got beef with commercial-ass niggas with gold teeth
Lampin’ in a Lexus eatin’ beef.
I’m hooked on gin and tonics like your mama’s Hooked on Phonics.
You gotta understand: I’m a man with needs that needs fulfilling.
And if you ain’t with it, somebody else is willing.
Crews talk shit, but in my face they kiss my ass.
Flip the flyer attire females desire,
Baby you can step to this if you admire
The extraordinary dapper rapper…
Keep tabs on your main squeeze before I tap her.
Believers of Jesus be denouncing Satan on every level,
But every Halloween they’re dressin’ like devils.
Feeling mad hostile, wearing Aéropostale,
Flowing like Christ when I speaks the gospel.
Food for thought, so get a buffet plate.
The lyrics are so fat you might gain weight.
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.
It’s the principle of it, I get a rush when I bust
Some dope lines oral, that maybe somebody’ll quote.
That’s what I consider real in this field of music,
Instead of puttin’ brain cells to work, they abuse it.
Non-conceptual, non-exceptional,
Everybody’s either crime-related or sexual.
For those who pose lyrical, but really ain’t true, I feel:
Their time’s limited, hard rocks too.
Payback’s a bitch, that’s why I never borrow;
And if push comes to shove, I’d do a stickup tomorrow.
I’ll have you weak in the knees that you could hardly speak,
Or we could do like Uncle L and swing an ep in my Jeep.
I drink twenty forties, smoke forty blunts,
Say a hundred rhymes, and not sound like you once.
The rap era’s outta control,
Brothers’ sellin their soul to go gold…
Going, going, gone, another rapper sold!
Times are hard in the ghetto, I gotta steal for a living;
Eating turkey-flavored Now & Laters for Thanksgiving.
Age ain’t nothing but a number, that’s what Chi-Ali said.
OK, then why don’t you get that through the judge’s head?
I get atomic, hypo-galactical…
Word to mom, I’m in my own world.
Galaxy rays? Powerful.
Little brats yellin ‘Trick or Treat’ all through my screen door,
When y’all should be at home sleep,
Instead of at my front porch 15 deep.
The jack o’ lantern came in handy…
I can turn my porch light out like I ain’t got no candy.
But ain’t that somethin?
You buy a Halloween costume and a pumpkin,
Almost gave your children a heart attack.
It’s a tradition, but who the hell started that?
You’re too light to fight, plus you’re too thin to win.
Who ya gonna call when I break your glass chin?
Braniac dumb-dumbs, bust the scientifical,
Approach to the course and the force is centrifugal.
Can you find your way through the lyrics that be catchin’ ‘em?
Throw another rhyme across the room, they be fetchin’ ’em.
EPMD in effect, I’m clockin’ mad green
Like Kermit the Frog, sloppy like Boss Hog,
Girl was runnin’ wild…ate her like a corn dog.
It’s ninety-six degrees in the shade…
Before I catch blood on my blade.
So concisely, musically we are the herb
So sit back and light me.
Inhale…
My style’s kinda fat, reminiscent of a whale.
God works in different ways and it shows…
And everybody knows, love comes and goes.
I got a funny feeling like something was real wrong…
Looked at her shoes and her feets was real long!
Then it hit me, Oh please God no,
Don’t let this ho turn out to be a John Doe…
He pulled a fast one on me, yo!
Every night I pray to God: ‘Please, no more wack MC’s.’
I admit skinz ain’t a reason to lose friends,
But then again I didn’t know. Sorry.
I cannot stand no wack MC.
So step back if you please,
And don’t test me, you’re history.
I like ‘em brown, yellow, Puerto Rican or Haitian.
When I hit the skins they all say, ‘Damn Kane…
You knock out the Bush like a presidential campaign!’
God damn! Drug dealers dealin’ to the kiddies,
Livin’ in the city ain’t no pity on the itty-bitty.
We try to cry, but still they all die,
I try to speak to the youth, and the truth is: they all high.
The mind tricks the body,
Body thinks the mind is crazy…
Butterfly, searchin for a relax,
Pullin from the jazz stacks, cause it’s Sunday.
On the air is incense, sounds to the ceiling
Tried to get this feelin since Monday.
Well I’ma freakit like this because I be doper than the dopest,
I focus on the mic and if you like it you can quote this.
Used to have a crush on Dawn from En Vogue.
It’s not like honey dip would wanna get with me,
But just in case I own more condoms than TLC.
I smoke on the mic like Smokin’ Joe Frazier,
The hell raiser, raisin’ hell with the flavor.
You know it’s funny, when it rains it pours,
They got money for wars, but can’t feed the poor.
First of all, who’s your A&R?
A mountain climber who plays an electric guitar?
But he don’t know the meaning of dope,
When he’s lookin for a suit and tie rap
That’s cleaner than a bar of soap!
And I’m the dirtiest thing in sight,
Matter of fact, bring out the girls and let’s have a mud fight.
Abraham Lincoln got shot and died,
Freed the slaves so they put him on the five.
You just met me, you won’t let me…
Well if I couldn’t have it, silly rabbit, why you sweating me?
I hate your fuckin’ guts, and I hope that you die.
Sticky Fingaz’s tha name, and my life is a lie,
Cause I’m havin a bad day, so stay out of my way,
And what the pistol packin’ people say, you better obey!
We love it where we from, but we kick it where we at.
I dribble rhymes like basketball…
People call me ‘E.T.’
What’s that, Shaq man?
‘Extra Tall.’
You need to sweat yourself. Don’t sweat nobody else.