I am proud to be drug free. This says it all, yeah.
Hey yo kids I can only ask to hold my glass while I grab a golf club and a goalie mask.
I gotta spit a verse with Casey Jones and we here to blaze the domes in every racist homes.
To every block party and traffic jams back in the day son, yea, you know I had a plan.
Me and the boys cause a ruckus, cause no one can touch us
With a whole lotta luck with a little brass on the knuckles.
Now when I say hardcore, I don't mean Korn, fag.
And when you see three X's, I ain't reading a porn mag.
See, you just confused like a gangsta with an orange rag.
I'm watching the scene split up like a torn bag.
But all the fakers fall out, taking the wrong route.
Now kids wondering, who I'm making this song about.
See back then my mom thought all my friends was Satanists,
And now they're not even my friends, they're just acquaintances.
When I came home from college I was starting to rap,
Everybody was trading their X's in for cartons and packs.
Rest of these cats think that weed sacks will help 'em get their steez back
And they wonder where they cheese at.
Ya'll turn the red light on for a one-night stand
Becoming whores for some empty coors and bud light cans.
If you don't care about that, I could care less.
I'll be making six figures while you're peeping hairnets.
I gotta weird appetite, I can't eat off of their checks,
So I stand alone in the pit and beat on my bare chest.
Take a look at what's left, from old school to new school
But the only thing that's real is the few. the proud. and the crucial.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
