Conceive true deception multiplied a million fold Visualize the yin and yang in a battle so intense that we get em confused The resident evil specialize in misconstruing We wanna be at a presidential level -- what are we doing? Foolin ourself, clownin ourself, playin ourself By not bein ourself We can't babble no more than we can bob our head offbeat Nimrod by the time we forty cause we can't get our meat While we ask no reason for the misplacement of the season look at the picture that's painted Tainted as the mind who's blinded to the point where Sodomites get all the rights We fall for fights with fisticuffs Get pissed enough to miss the bus It disgusts me to see my folks run up on I say stand up on deception of time all of Revelations And recognize this mind on the reality of horror known as mankind Jesus and his twelve disciples make thirteen A righteous number of righteous men Even Judas the Betrayer came true in the end The Devil say the end is the beginning They teach that we were the product of incest Invest no level of self into their system of Paganomics Stand with us and don't look back upon it Just face this mindstate Otherwise Babylon...
(My memories of yesterday...)
[cut and scratched:] "Ninety-six gonna be that year..."
[Verse One: Andre]
I bet you never heard of a playa with no game Told the truth to get what I want but shot it with no shame Take this music dead serious while others entertain I see they makin they paper so I guess I can't complain... or can I? I feel they disrespectin the whole thang Them hooks like sellin dope to black folks And I choke when the food they serve ain't tastin right My stomach can't digest it even when I bless it I'm confessin one mo' lesson from the South we in the house tonight Now hootie who wants to oppose? Suppose We rolls through Headland and Delowe where me and my niggaz surpassed the flow And got down for ours like hind catchers My mind catches flashbacks to the black past while my close niggaz laugh at The Southern slang, figure ways and mojo chicken wangs I grew up on booty shake we did not know no better thang So go 'head and, diss it, while real hop-hippers listen Started by Afrikan Bambaata, so you and your potnah Gather your thoughts
[Musical Interlude: Debra Killings]
(Something's gotta change Songs of laughter and happiness comes from teardrops to rain When daring despair, fortune may lead in my day And slight breezes of longing finally move my way Like memories of yesterday...)
[Verse Two: Big Boi]
Uhh, born Antwan Patton but my potnahs they call me Big Boi It's the nigga the B-I-G, be speakin the truth not talkin that shit boi I'm thinkin of checkin my traps and bustin my raps and throwin them craps Seven-eleven is no convenience, you pumpin your gas, they're watchin yo' back For the robbin crew, thinkin they robbin you, you must be cautious To stand up on yo' game and pimpin these crows you must be flawless Like Mortal Kombat, but fuckin these wombats got you dizzy My nigga you know of I wanna be playin but runnin up on me like you miss me You catchin the wrong vibe, packin yo' shit and rollin yo' eyes back Flexin up on the corner tossin your dice and rollin your Cadillac But man it seems I'm reachin out and touchin the wrong nigga Don't expect me to be pimpin get your index off the trigger As we bust, us, we leavin em in the dust So keep that clean up out of your nose I said my piece and then I hush As the candidate keeps flippin... niggaz dippin...
[Musical Interlude]
[Verse Three: Andre, Big Boi]
I really be love it we are gathered to life So pissed to lather we come clean Some issues need to be addressed like envelopes I mean Oh like Liberty Bells yes them bullets keep on rangin On fire like the Georgia mass choir we keep on sangin Bringin our folks closer together cause they severed us from the get green Light and we ain't gon' stop until we hit the big screen Psych because no one is free when others are oppressed So, we hit the stage and then we fly back to our nest Growing old
Like some eagles, people don't understand Just like their parents don't be carin I'm speakin about you playin with that phony stuff you sharin in your raps Mercedes Benz and all your riches Thinkin you got it, but get it get it, but you ain't pimpin no bitches Cause you flaw, in, fallin like leaves into driveways Isn't it lovely smokin good and sloppy head on highways Friday's are tight but Saturday just makes it old When tonight's are hot warm enough to feed your soul Growing old
[Musical Interlude 2X] ("96 gonna be that year...")
(Like memories of yesterday...)
[voice of Andre fades in] see all them leaves must fall down, growin old
Fat titties turn to teardrops as fat ass turns to flab Sores that was open wounds eventually turn to scab Trees bright and green turn yellow brown Autumn caught em, see all them leaves must fall down, growin old [repeat 3X]Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
