Текст песни
Yeah, you should have never mixed me and Buss Up
It's a lethal combination
And the beat goes
Yeah
Hardway and T-Bone
What y'all know about that?
Let's go
I'm trying to change this music, my nizzle, it's official
I'm tired of hearing heaters that whistle and sizzle
When gangstas pull out they pistols, I'm like money
Trying to get in the middle and settle the difference
'Cause too many rappers is tripping, don't nobody wanna listen
Plus I'm tired of all the cussing and cursing, so I started rehearsing
Working on converting a better version for every person
That's hurting lurking searching for life's purpose feeling suicidal
And worthless but you ain't certain if you ready to die
And leave this earth's surface then cross over
And see what's on the side of this life's curtain
Call me the Moses of rap, taking it back to the days
When this artifact wasn't 'bout the woman and gats
I'm sick of this rap, matter of fact, how many more women you finna pimp?
And gangstas we gonna cap, we murdered them all
Pac and Biggie, there ain't here anymore
Better do something, sound the trumpet, 'cause I'm goin' to war
To all the playas popping off at the lip (oh)
Fronting the street game like you a pimp (no)
You coming up but going down with the ship (bro)
Oh, better let that thang go
And all the ladies that be shaking they hips (oh)
Up in the strip clubs stacking 'em chips (no)
Top of the world, but you down in the pits, ma
Yo, you better let that thang go
It's the Nicaraguan son of Big Pun, who flip tongs
On kick drums and leave rappers like victims from big guns
Better panic, 'cause I'm charismatic and automatic
When it comes to this phonographic magic, I gotta have it
Like an addict, I'm the magnet pulling these Asiatic
And Hispanics bandits to make 'em put down tha cannons
I'm standing for unity in rural communities filled with darkness
And cruelty, where men get woman paid off of nudity
It's soon to be all over, I crossover barriers of hate and racism
Plus I bring the cross over, I'm out to change all the images
In our villages and all the religious criticisms from church citizens
Always pointing, judging, shrugging ya shoulders at the adulterers
Fornicators, and cobras but never question our culture
Biggie prophesied ready to die, 50 took five
And got rich and Pac's mama still crying
To all the playas popping off at the lip (oh)
Fronting the street game like you a pimp (no)
You coming up but going down with the ship (bro)
Oh, better let that thang go
And all the ladies that be shaking they hips (oh)
Up in the strip clubs stacking 'em chips (no)
Top of the world, but you down in the pits, ma
Yo, you better let that thang go
Suckas surfing the internet trying to find kids for sex
And placing bets, credit card fraud is next, they write them checks
For chicks on 'em porno flicks when they shake they hips
Sick with them chain and whips
It gets even worse, truth hurts, but don't be mad at me
I ain't the one getting paid enhancing your anatomy and gradually
They rotten out like bad cavities
Then periodically prostituting and armed robberies
This how we raise the little children of America to grow up
And be criminals, rapist and bomb terrorist from the second
They're born innocent but torn between these two world's fighting
For souls like tug a war
Who's keeping score got juveniles in the morgue
While killas winning awards and steady praising the Lord
They cheer and roar, ego tripping has gotta stop
Gotta shine and rhyme in his name instead of hip-hop
To all the playas popping off at the lip (oh)
Fronting the street game like you a pimp (no)
You coming up but going down with the ship (bro)
Oh, better let that thang go
And all the ladies that be shaking they hips (oh)
Up in the strip clubs stacking 'em chips (no)
Top of the world, but you down in the pits, ma
Yo, you better let that thang go
Yeah
We did it again
Boneyard Records
2005, baby
We ain't stoppin'