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I call you once…you never dialed back.
Twice…you never dialed back.
Saturday morning, live, I’m on Soul Train, talkin’ to Don Cornelius.Saturday night, my phone rings…
Saturday night, I won’t answer.
Saturday night, my phone rings again…
Saturday night, I don’t answer.
When I hit the skins they all say, ‘Damn Kane…
You knock out the Bush like a presidential campaign!’
I’m from Jerz, the home of: “I could’ve swore I parked my car right here!”
You got a man? That’s somethin we will talk about.
He’s smart enough to have ya, but dumb enough to let ya out.
Why is it a honey act like she don’t want to be bothered?
But after the tappin’, she yappin’ like she want her children fathered?
‘That buck that bought the bottle coulda struck the lotto.’
To invest in scratch tickets is a fucked up motto.
See, you’re out your mind tryin’ to face tha God.
Your rhyme is like an empty prison…a waste of bars.
I’m the ghetto Mr. Universe, call me Lou FerNEGRO,
I push a lot of iron, but I don’t do it in the gym tho.
And when it comes to gettin nookie, I’m not a rookie…
I got girls that make that chick Toni Braxton look like Whoopi.
Watch out for the medallion, my diamonds are reckless,
Feels like a midget is hangin from my necklace!
Your white tee, well to me, looks like a nightgown;
Make your mama proud, take that thing two sizes down.
If imitation is the greatest form of flattery,
Punk, don’t flatter me.
Layin niggas so flat, homies think you plankin’,
Only realize you dead when the corpse start stankin’.
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.
It’s important to practice good hygiene,
At least if you wanna run with my team.
We shoppers, you bloggers.
If money talks, you mumblers.
You try it on, then take it off,
Then post a pic on your tumblrs.
Golly, he’s just a pest and your worst best friend,
Who mend and rip space-time fabric like polyester blend.
I’m puttin’ pressure on you kids like I’m a soccer mom.
Player haters be givin’ me harsh looks,
But I’m tryin to sell records like Garth Brooks.
You gotta school these young macks comin’ up today…
I mean to be ‘frank’, they just hot dogs,
The girls are relish, and they need to catchup on they pimpin’.
Never been to Sesame Street but I flip a Big Bird.
And I know “stealers” and they not from Pittsburgh…
And while you was bangin on tables, I was bangin Snow White.
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 got lots of love for my crew, that is;
No love for them other crews and rival kids.
All them out-of-town niggas know what time it is,
And if they don’t? They need to buy a watch, word up.
I use a pick in my hair without force.
You use a lawn mower–you got peat moss.
Now who done passed you a diaper and got you thinkin’ you the shit?
I seen her on the ave, spotted her more than once.
Ass so fat that you could see it from the front…
I smoked with a lot of college students…
Most of em wasn’t graduatin, and they knew it.
Run from the police, picture that,
Nigga I’m too fat…
I fuck around and catch a asthma attack.
You ask me, “Did I like Arsenio?”
About as much as the Bicentennial.
Said she loved my necklace, started relaxin’.
Now that’s what the fuck I call a chain reaction!
I never let the worst things in life get the best of me.
So take these testes and, ummm…open sesame.
You’re out of luck like two dogs stuck.
I’m on some satanic shit, strictly.
Little kids be wakin up cryin, yellin,
‘Mommy, Big L is comin to get me!’
I’m from back then, bro, when the phrase was “fresh.”
…When Michael Jackson’s nose looked like KRS.
I’m hooked on gin and tonics like your mama’s Hooked on Phonics
You ain’t a gangsta, you a bitch with a beat.
When I die, bury me butt naked and face down in the grass
So I can fuck the world while y’all kiss my ass
You can’t take the heat, get ya ass out the kitchen
Matter fact, take ya ass back in there and wash the dishes
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’m so def, I need a hearing aid with an equalizer.
Why fuck with these cornball rappers when you can have the real thing?
I heard you rhyme a few times, each time you blew it.
You’re soft, you can’t go off, I knew it.
Let’s be realistic, I’m not egotistic;
But you, your crew…just not that artistic.
Point blank: your song stank.
I know you want the truth, so let’s be frank.
And when I smiled, ‘Bing!’ I almost blinded her.
She said, ‘Great Scot, are you a thief?
Seems like you have a mouth full of gold teeth!’
Hahahaha, had to find that funny,
So I said, ‘No child, I work hard for the money.
And calling me a thief? Please…don’t even try it,
Sit down, eat your slice of pizza, and be quiet.’
Whoever underestimated, still waited,
Pumping the radio, finally they played it.
You wondered how come the album was late?
I was giving you time to get the last one straight.
