| 'Cause I won’t be up at them parties where they be at
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| (Hey Madlib—I ain’t see you and yo' boys, whatcha been doing?)
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| Be chilling, trying to make money, stay out this ruin
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| Keep my music tight, so y’all don’t hear no booing
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| Oh, whatcha you been doing? |
| (Drinkin' 40s with my crew and—)
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| I be hearing people talkin' behind my back, but that’s a normal reaction
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| When a nigga doing a
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| Then the next person doing (Aw)
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| But I’m still relaxin'
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| Jackson, I be maxin'
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| Lootpack '99 main attraction
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| Hitting it like two hundred degrees, we went overseas
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| From Tennessee (on a plane) ten to three
|
| We hit a bar on the way to N.Y.C., with no delay
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| LAX to JFK
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| Niggas out here acting like everything is lovely
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| Smiling in my face scheming, wishing they was all above me
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| Small cats react off movies they peep
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| Take it out to the streets until they six feet deep
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| I’m mapping out my plan to hit the next trip
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| Rock a show, clock the dough and make niggas head dip
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| I’m on the next thick chick, I stick with, I hit spliffs before we lift
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| For instance
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| Hit the ground, now we up in New York, JFK airport
|
| All my niggas in O.X. |
| hold down the fort
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| Me, Peanut Butter, Wildchild, DJ Romes
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| Only here to take out whack clones like
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| Whack massacre (How many? About eighty percent)
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| Can’t fuck with my crew
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| But anyway, we always come original any day (any day)
|
| From LAX to JFK |