| Ah, ayy, ayy
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| Shouts out to all my conspiracy theorists
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| This is Wendy Day from Rap Coalition, RZA… Big Boy, Fazid…
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| Soul On Ice Part Two
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| Watered the bush, I was 14, breakin'
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| Raisin', fake I.D. |
| from Eric Davis
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| Good vibrations, Kehlani first to take-off in an altercation (Facts, facts)
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| Like Walter Payton, running back to the drama with our 40 oz bottles
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| The Aussies call it Mackers, we call it McDonalds
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| I know hoes from Toronto who collect vinyl
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| Then bust it wide open at the Spearmint Rhino
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| Was thinkin' about settlin' down, but these hoes got their head in the cloud
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| So I’m celibate now, lasted a couple months then its back to being slut puppy
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| (Hahaha)
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| Jumping off like adrenaline junkies (X-boy)
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| My brother Curt, my brother Clee, my brother Nummy, go dummy
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| Wais P never let me go hungry
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| 40 a diva dude, 10 pair of the same Gucci shoes
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| My revolver big and black like Terry Crews (Ooh)
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| I just love the culture and the bag, gee
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| Mystery to me why you dressin' like Mr. T
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| Ten skinny ass gold chains like chokers
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| I just put bitcoins inside my penny loafers (Oh)
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| Moonwalkin' across your sofa
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| Trap musicians, y’all overdose, we get doper!
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| North, East, West, South, we all connected (Woo)
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| It’s hard to defend against the unexpected (Nigga)
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| They just found the right one, the right time, wrong day
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| Even if the needle skip, homie let the song play
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| Kept it 100 when them suckas acted strange
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| Already, I fuck with you the long way
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| Right one, right time, wrong day
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| Even if the needle—, homie let the song play
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| Kept it 100 when them suckas acted strange
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| All day, I fuck with you the long way
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| Midtown, '88, Venice and La Brea
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| 17, graffiti writing, fly Rhymesayer
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| Hanging with the Crips clash, almost catchin' whiplash
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| Watchin' my own back, the government sold crack
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| We ran Sherman square, sometimes we’d brawl
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| Reading William S. Cooper and «The Final Call»
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| «Behold a Pale Horse», and pray for the sheeple
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| Used to move pounds, now we all smoke legal
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| Higher than any Eagle album ever charted
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| 9/11 was an inside job, don’t get me started
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| Ancient secrets were guarded, pillaged and marauded
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| The Christians crusaded, and natives got slaughtered
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| But every single holiday you celebrate’s pagan
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| And Hinkley loved Jodi so he shot Ron Reagan
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| Live from Copenhagen, fightin' out of California
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| I’m running up on ya, I ain’t gonna warn ya
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| They just found the right one, the right time, wrong day
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| Even if the needle skip, homie let the song play
|
| Kept it 100 when them suckas acted strange
|
| Already, I fuck with you the long way
|
| Right one, right time, wrong day
|
| Even if the needle—, homie let the song play
|
| Kept it 100 when them suckas acted strange
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| All day, I fuck with you the long way |