| Go back, go back
|
| We wanna go back, right?
|
| Got A.G. with me, you know?
|
| Milano!
|
| Felt up but it still hurt
|
| Sugar hill in it staring where it was
|
| Mass appeal what you know that he got here
|
| But I’m here with nigga shopping in vane
|
| That’s my team I’m popping out of the basement
|
| Take it way back like I’m Just-Ice
|
| Living the plush life we only need one mic (tell em)
|
| Glass of wine smooth attire
|
| Nautica, vans, goosenecks and pathfinders
|
| Don’t have to make you remind you
|
| That I come from the era kids smashing up derelicts
|
| Niggas all trash need therapists, I’m
|
| Why I should I be crying for, all I do is rhyme raw
|
| Fighting is July 4th I light up the sky more
|
| When I go, go, go back, go back, go back, go back
|
| The aura is golden, magical potion
|
| Errorless, never less than ill
|
| Like a Show and me intro
|
| This flow ain’t disco, major or no distro
|
| The disco-graph DNA, Milan, me and Ray
|
| Feeling like a winner cold winters, hot summers
|
| Pour out a little liquor for those not among us
|
| The baby so beautiful
|
| Looking at the future see my word through a cubicle
|
| The seventies played in the eighties
|
| Pioneered the nineties now you can find me
|
| Under that apple tree
|
| Go back, go back, go back, go back, go back |