| Ye-yeah! |
| One more time, one last number.
|
| Chaundon, where you at, nigga?
|
| It’s the future right here, man
|
| We startin' it right now… Let's get it goin', Big Pooh, UH!
|
| My attitude real shitty, temper short
|
| My mind cluttered like the streets of New York
|
| I ain’t tryna take a 'L', cause I casually fought
|
| This shit, real serious not casual sport
|
| Let time fly by as I pen these thoughts
|
| And I’m speedin through life wit my car in park
|
| And, even in the day sometimes it’s dark
|
| And that cloud hoverin low is not the worst part
|
| Second guessin yourself, tryna remain sharp
|
| See niggas blowin up who ain’t got yo SPARK, uh
|
| And that alone is a burden to carry
|
| Either you’ll get strong or, you’ll get buried
|
| And rap keep plenty room in the cemetery
|
| Pull out your Blackberry’s, change yo itineraries
|
| I mean, you could be the shit today
|
| Then tomorrow wake up, fame blown away!
|
| And homey on the real, ain’t nothing you can say
|
| That’s why I work hard now, got later to lay
|
| In the sands on the beach, mixin drinks wit Belvy
|
| The world gon' remember my name, muh’fuckers!
|
| Now they heard all of yo songs, and peeped you from the side
|
| And watched yo videos and seen the car you drive
|
| CHILLLLL! |
| — And we know what to expect my nigga
|
| Done seen it all before I ain’t impressed, my nigga
|
| But they heard all of our songs, and peeped us from the side
|
| And came out to the shows and seen us on the grind
|
| CHILLLLL! |
| — And this is how we get down muh’fuckers
|
| We don’t care who got next, this is now muh’fuckers!
|
| I tried to work wit niggas, don’t wanna jerk them niggas
|
| But everybody runnin around thinkin they murderers
|
| Gave birth to niggas, and when I burp them niggas
|
| The spit up old lines that I fed to them earlier
|
| And this is what the state of hip-hop is like
|
| I’m thinkin', «Damn, this cannot be right»
|
| And I agree that everybody’s a biter
|
| But if you Xerox the style, then that’s infringin' on my copy, right?
|
| It’s the bottom of the 9th with no extra innings
|
| And we all in the game tryna collect our pennants
|
| And from the, old school, I’m a direct descendant
|
| And y’all can feel it at the end of each and every sentence
|
| Cause underground rap is just, incense and gimmicks
|
| An image, they phone in for ten cents a minute
|
| I knew that since I entered, the rap game, my style
|
| Would have niggas takin' it back, but what about now?
|
| I think about the youth and how their minds are so closed
|
| Cause now «Rap City» look like «Video Soul»
|
| And that’s a sad state of affairs
|
| But no need to despair, cause we the next ones that’s takin' it there, ya know!
|
| Now they heard all of yo songs, and peeped you from the side
|
| And watched yo videos and seen the car you drive
|
| CHILLLLL! |
| — And we know what to expect my nigga
|
| Done seen it all before I ain’t impressed, my nigga
|
| But they heard some of our songs, and peeped us from the side
|
| And came out to the shows and seen us on the grind
|
| CHILLLLL! |
| — And this is how we get down muh’fuckers
|
| We don’t care who got next, this is now muh’fuckers!
|
| A note to my opponents: yeah, I got now
|
| And I always got next cause I seize every moment
|
| I’m an opportunist wit ambition
|
| Keep an eye on that number one spot before it wind up missin'
|
| And the heart of this bein is the art of MCing
|
| I feel I’m God wit the flow, cause people started believin, HUH
|
| So what I’m cocky, who gon' stop me?
|
| Twist hoes, leave 'em knock knead, smile for paparazzi
|
| This is how I get down
|
| Got a crib in every hood, so I’m always the hottest nigga in town
|
| Hate it or love it, who fuckin' wit our music?
|
| Yeah, y’all niggas are the SHIT when it comes to bowel movements
|
| Pooh showed and proved it, can’t +Sleep+ on his game
|
| 'Te converted all the currency with Foreign Exchange
|
| Up next to rock the booth iiiis a rapper named Chaundon
|
| The Bronx Borough President wit' «No Excuses»
|
| Doubtin' me is foolish, don’t ask who produced this!
|
| Knowin damn well only 9th can do this, huh!
|
| It’s no secret, Lyor even know
|
| When me and Little Brother flow, it’s guaranteed another video!
|
| Now they heard all of yo songs, and peeped you from the side
|
| And watched yo videos and seen the car you drive
|
| CHILLLLL! |
| — And we know what to expect my nigga
|
| Done seen it all before I ain’t impressed, my nigga
|
| But they heard all of our songs, and peeped us from the side
|
| And came out to the shows and seen us on the grind
|
| CHILLLLL! |
| — And this is how we get down muh’fuckers
|
| We don’t care who got next, this is now muh’fuckers!
|
| On behalf of myself Phonte, Big Pooh, and 9th Wonder
|
| And the whole cast of «The Minstrel Show»
|
| I wanna thank ya’ll, for watchin this shit
|
| I ain’t gon' front, only reason I took this job cause I need the money
|
| I don’t need… yo, I ain’t gon' front
|
| I don’t give a fuck if UBN pull the plug on me, dawg, I-I gotta be real.
|
| Y’all really wanna know how I feel about «The Minstrel Show»?
|
| Y’all really wanna know how I feel about UBN?
|
| THESE GODDAMN CRACKERS GET ON MY MUTHAFUC-. |