Lyrics
On my Earvin Magic Johnson, I'm enterprising
I keep it ghetto like the hood before they gentrified it
I might burn this bitch down, Left Eye, Andre Rison
I can't trust you built for cuban links unless we tied in
Shout to Rae and Ghost
"Can it be all so simple?" One of my favorite quotes
From 42nd Street, days of pimps wearing suede loafs
That McDonald's is still there where we had to trade blows
Then, I stood on stages, Australia on occasion
Country Club, House of Blues, stadium status, hands wavin'
Hip-Hop 50 celebration, funny we the same age, and
We just keep on getting iller, word to Heavy, word to Dilla
Word to Heav', word to Dilla
Milk Dee, I'm top billin', cooked in soul, grandma's skillet
And they rearrange my quotes, try to make me out the villain
Have you jammed up like what you spread on toast?
Here's a dose, so that interesting poetry others wishing they wrote
We don't smell y'all smoke, y'all should try a different approach
Word to Heav', word to Dilla
Overweight, pockets for my niggas 'til the scales tippin', get it?
On my Earvin Magic Johnson, I'm enterprising
I keep it ghetto, like the hood before they gentrified it
I might burn this bitch down, Left Eye, Andre Rison
I can't trust you built for cuban links unless we tied in (only built for cuban links)
I can't trust you built for cuban links unless we tied in (only built for cuban links)
I can't trust you built for none of this unless we tied in
Family ties, squad ties, money ties
Suit and ties, shoes tied, ready to ride, choose a side
Thought I told you, "On the tide" that we was surfin'
And you know I'm down for my niggas, free C-Murder
Fuck the chat, you know that I'm 'bout my mathematics
When you run up mad numbers, yeah, that's when they get the maddest
Acrobatics with the alphabets, I gave out Pateks
And I gave out Rollies and new Ranges to the baddest
Plus I wear the scars from the streets, ducking the mark of the beast
I know some brothers doin' life, they say, "Nas, talkin' for me"