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(Verse 1:) |
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Now baby you gon' get a crook in your neck looking at me sideways |
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I play high stakes made crook in a crime wave |
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Must be something on my face |
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Yelling that they ought no tell em what they spellin on MySpace dot com |
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Bold type face rhetoric |
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You gon' clickety click and get your head split |
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What the hell you look like on a message board |
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Discussing whether or not the brother is hard core |
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I ain't got to prove to any of you |
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That anything I ever said was is the truth but I'm ready to do it |
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And do it leisurely, Ant give 10 beats a week |
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So **** it I'll put the record how it needs to be |
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I understand I ain't perfect alright |
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I been a thugged out nerd all my life |
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Thank God I ain't got to serve dirt or snatch purses at night |
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I feed people with the verses I write |
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And I fill them with my personal strife |
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Had some of y'all concerned for my life |
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For what I've had the nerve to recite |
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I cut my grass grow, bring the serpants to light |
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Now baby you ain't never heard me I'm tight |
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And I'm surgical like, with this bitch Jake |
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You know that shit **** around and get a closed casket and I'm old fashioned |
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Trying to figure out how we got from Whipper Whip to this silly bullshit |
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It's just so tragic |
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But it ain't impossible to solve |
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I ain't learned jack shit from Dorian at all |
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Let me hear you abusing the culture I adore |
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I'll come across the hall and get involved like this here |
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(Chorus:) |
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I'm just here to play my part, and inbetween scenes got to stay on guard |
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I ain't way out y'all, you just don't get me dog |
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You gon **** around and miss me dog, it ain't my fault |
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And they love the way I talk |
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Eyes get real wide when I say my thoughts |
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I ain't way out y'all, you just don't get me dog |
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You gon **** around and miss me dog, it ain't my fault |
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(Verse 2:) |
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Tabernacle my hand, expand to the size of a big black granite statue |
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Divide it by the lightning speed that they can move |
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It ain't an autograph, do that math I'm a smack you |
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I like to pull up my pants and lean back too |
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Organic vegetables, mix em with fast food |
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I'm Howard Stern meets Howard Zinn |
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How could you not find a pal in him and get attracted too |
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I take it back for you when possible |
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If your hear this then I'm confiding in you |
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Pop call me, "Ali what's bothering you |
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Don't you want to tell your friends you and your father are cool" |
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"NO." You got more X's than the Honorable Elijah Muhammed do |
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But that ain't my problem with you |
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Truth is your just an impossible dude |
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You get hostile with fools when their honest with you |
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I could make me a snide little comment or two |
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But I don't see what that nonsense would prove |
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I don't give fake props to the dude or walk around in his shoes |
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I just do what the Qu'ran says to do and respect him |
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Now I ain't even here to get clandestine |
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But best believe I'm a get what's destined |
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Be it an Escalade or a fixed up F10 |
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It's better than this bus, best friend believe that |
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I ain't got a free minute to lean back |
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Spiderman 2 coming out and Faheem need that |
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Plus I wanna teach him how to read on a Leap Pad |
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Shining bright, smiling like "look at me dad! " |
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That's the shit that I'm in to I defend to the death |
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That I'm every bit as gangster as them fools |
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If I wasn't G I wouldn't flow like this |
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If you were really a G you wouldn't know I exist, you bitch |
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(I don't understand what they're sayin' |
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But little did they know they could get a smack for that, man) |
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So I'd advise you to shut the **** up |
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Silly muh****a |
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(Chorus) |
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(Bridge: x2) |
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I said clap your hand to the beat y'all |
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'Cause the beat make you clap your hands |
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I said clap your hand to the beat y'all |
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'Cause the beat make you clap your hands |
