Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song A Message from Poet, artist - Madlib. Date of issue: 02.04.2007
Song language: English
A Message from Poet |
| My back is behind the brick wall |
| I got a mad truck two inches from my face |
| (Uh-huh, uh-huh, oh yeah, yeah) |
| It must be so easy, just turn around and go |
| Jump all the wires, hookers and hang-ups, and you’re home free |
| (Uh-huh, uh-huh, oh yeah, yeah) |
| Part of the natural order, made to order by your forever clever mind |
| Constantly rejecting your things you no longer need to be protected |
| Ayo, Summerjam live, Jigga goin' at Nas |
| Yo, what’s goin' on with these guys |
| Next thing you know, Nas goin' at Jay |
| Ether to the dome tried to blow him away |
| Motherfuckers wanna make it to some Queensbridge Marcy shit |
| Believe me, New York, we don’t wanna spark this shit |
| We still rebuildin', these women and children |
| The whole shit will turn to Ground Zero if we start illin' |
| Look at Foxy and Kim, what’s wrong with them |
| Both of them platinum, used to be bitches |
| Now they wanna give each other stitches, damn |
| Is that how it is, when niggas get riches |
| You got 50 with Ja, 50 with Jay |
| 50 with anybody that get in 50 way |
| G-Unit, Jadakiss and Beanie |
| That’s a ill one believe me |
| They should take it to T. V |
| Cam’ron and Esco who got the best flow |
| DMX, whoa, goin' at ya little bro' |
| And the whole Roc-A-Fella wanna get at Jaz-O |
| Eminem, come on now that’s a no-no |
| Disrespectin' your moms we don’t play that shit, yo |
| Even as a crack fiend mama, black queen mama |
| You heard 2Pac and that’s the king of drama |
| Dr. Dre should’ve told ya |
| But he to busy goin' at Jermaine Dupri to show ya |
| But Blaq Poet pull a trigger |
| We know you nice, forget you white just rep it right nigga |
| I look over at the westside |
| I see Snoop, Suge, Xzibit 'bout to collide |
| And make some real nigga wanna cry |
| It’s like niggas forgot about Pac and B-I |
| The only way to settle this; |
| battle it out |
| And leave the gats at the house |
| All these niggas is rich |
| Nobody wanna die, nobody really wanna kill eachother |
| Everybody just need to fall back |
| Take your hands off of me, I know what I’m doing |
| My baby left me, I don’t feel like doing |
| Get your hands off me I’m gonna call the cops |
| Could you pass me my rum and coke on the — |
| Hey, my rum and coke, I paid for it |
| Can ya, can ya get it — |
| Ten, nine, eight |