| I can’t hear you!
|
| I like it when you say my name
|
| Y’all gon' love me
|
| Feelin it’s about to get ugly
|
| Inject this dose of the future
|
| Tap them veins, grab hold, let me shoot ya
|
| Mainline this new Diddy heroin
|
| The Afro-American dream is too evident
|
| The potential to be the first black President
|
| ITunes, download me in every resident
|
| Early, I skip break-fast
|
| Nigga be on his grind like he need new brake pads
|
| We in the hood like black soap and dollar vans
|
| My CD’s in 3-D, holograms
|
| The future, y’all need to holla man
|
| The live show’s a hard act to follow man
|
| Bronze my likeness, y’all need to follow him
|
| From now to 3000, I’ll be a problem man
|
| The future
|
| Always before you
|
| Always ill
|
| With my demeanor, flip, assemble my own team to
|
| Say fuck FEMA in case there’s another Katrina
|
| And you, laughed at the past, said I was a dreamer
|
| But it’s, back to the future, sold out arenas
|
| We, take 'em to the cleaners, calm ya nerves
|
| This is the man who provided more jobs for blacks than armed services
|
| (Let's go) Cut them corners, stay ahead of them sharp curvages
|
| Yeah, ya heard of us, hits stay superflous
|
| Man, I extend credit to a vagabond
|
| Run yo' city, and we not talkin marathons
|
| Bang like chitty chitty here to disturb you
|
| New CD, watch it spread like bird flu
|
| America, fall back, you can’t stop me
|
| Got a thing for pigeon-toed chicks who walk knock-kneed
|
| Skin-tight jeans we call that botoxied
|
| I’m desensitized baby, you can’t shock me
|
| I’m the future
|
| Always before you
|
| Always ill
|
| I went from, blocks to greater to fortunes rock related
|
| Now my entire crib is voice activated
|
| Television on, Mr. Combs is home
|
| Solar panel rooftop my, kitchen is chrome
|
| Dim the lights to a purple haze then answer the phone
|
| (Hello?) Peep the moon through my retractable dome
|
| What they thought they assassinated was only a clone
|
| We about to venture off into the unknown (let's go)
|
| Where sunrays hook off layers of ozone
|
| Chips inserted in the brain, the new cell phone
|
| The future, fuck with me now
|
| I’m Grammy certified the committee can pick me now
|
| And they all green with envy like Bill Bixby
|
| Bow down, kiss the tip of my cane, I paid sixty thou'
|
| You know the suit stay crispy now
|
| Hands to the sky and get ready if you wit me now
|
| The future
|
| Never seen before, never will
|
| Always before you, always ill
|
| I AM!!! |