| Yeah, I know who I am and where I stand
|
| I am just a grain of sand getting washed from God’s hands
|
| I am nothing but a lamb in the great expanse
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| An ape staring into space, so damn insignificant
|
| Primal on the vinyl, I am cro-magnificent
|
| Title after title 'cause I’m programmed different
|
| Dictate a flow that toe-tags dissidents
|
| No, my man, we don’t go ham, listen in
|
| We go Jon Hamm, with the double M, triple threat
|
| Nice day, isn’t it? |
| Not for workaholics
|
| Open Logic, and work the program like an alcoholic
|
| Man, anybody fucking with P, I’ll beat you like Tyson
|
| Beat Larry Homes out of love for Ali
|
| Suffa MC, tell me now, who wanna suffer?
|
| Want them nuts on your chin like Ponda Baba?
|
| Nuh-uh
|
| Listen, I don’t wanna fall through the cracks
|
| Like some cigarette ash on Scott Storch’s keyboard
|
| So, let me bring it back to these tracks where we snack on these hacks
|
| That’s you all know me for,
|
| ooft
|
| Ooft,
|
| you’ll get bodied in the booth
|
| I’m not worried 'bout a thing that you might say
|
| It goes
|
| ooft,
|
| God almighty, we the truth (Truth)
|
| La-di-da-di-dow-da-de-de-da-di-day
|
| It’s just the way of man, staring up into the great expanse
|
| We’ve been making plans, howling at the moon until the day advance
|
| Taking out the trash, you’re getting put in your place
|
| I keep one foot upon your throat, the other foot in the grave
|
| So kill my vibe, I’m still alright, can’t be stripped of the essence
|
| I’ve hit my strides signified but the vicious intentions
|
| But still they try to vilify and kill the progression
|
| Like a stripper inside a gift I’m tryna live in the present
|
| Ooft, we fight the madness we know
|
| It’s sad your battling my shadow when I’ve survived the baddest of both
|
| Dagger and cloak, bro, I hope you die from gagging on smoke
|
| That’s why I’m pissing on the fire you’ve been fanning your hope
|
| Sometimes I stop and wonder why conjuring something bothers others
|
| They ain’t gonna love you just to love you like Donna Summers
|
| We’re conquerors brother, just drop the gun and don’t be so
|
| Reckless, put down your arms like Ponda Baba
|
| Ooft,
|
| you’ll get bodied in the booth
|
| I’m not worried 'bout a thing that you might say
|
| It goes
|
| ooft, G
|
| od almighty, we the truth (Truth)
|
| La-di-da-di-dow-da-de-de-da-di-day
|
| Ooft,
|
| you’ll get bodied in the booth
|
| I’m not worried 'bout a thing that you might say
|
| It goes
|
| ooft, G
|
| od almighty, we the truth (Truth)
|
| La-di-da-di-dow-da-de-de-da-di-day
|
| «Man, drop it» «Ooft, ooft, ooft
|
| Ooft, ooft—ooft—ooft
|
| Ooft» «This is the beginning» «Ayy—ay—ayy»
|
| «Allow me to show you something» «Now we burn every track»
|
| «Ooft» «What's happened?» |
| «I've got a different idea»
|
| «Ooft» «Drop that» «Drop it»
|
| «Allow me to show you something» «Ooft»
|
| «What's that?» |
| «Alright» |