(Intro) Yeah, to all my fans, for people who don’t know What I’ve been going through to make my own, yeah...
Now its time to hurt your feelings as I upset music industry fans Hey yo my man, look at my hands, they look human, right? You think I’m a monster, ill circus clown, I’m not a specimen Don’t look at me funny when I come around And ya’ll been trying to figure me out for years Trying to reduplicate me, but they can’t, so they hate me While white boys rub the heads of black music with a Japanese assistant What does a Chinese kid know about the rap game, it’s a shame As I see ’em watching BET There’s a million of creative rappers tryin’ to be me I’m starting to feel like Jimi Hendrix When they cover the story who started rock Magazines put blankets over my interviews They don’t want to see me on Channel 7 News Tellin the truth of the project group Which they always have secret spies in with eyes Watchin me record my album, sending producers with wack tracks And DATS, messin’ up my whole format Can you imagine doing something that would need more to function With an alternative hippy kid from the record label watchin your back Talkin about Mariah Carey’s honky Makin’ an average group buck dance like a barrel full of monkeys While I break out to do the shopping, boy You’re makin’ a quick phone call About my sound is too new and different I need to be a regular like Dru Hill, a little more ill Hey Keith we want you to be ill!
Yeah, leave me alone! Hey Keith, we want you to be ill!
Of course I’m hard to work with, cos you’re hard to work with I don’t wanna be the Insane Clown Posse and collaborate I’m tryin’ to innovate and think quick at a fast rate Why you mad? Cos I’m original? You can’t do the material When I sit back and watch you act big Spend your budget on your video I’m in one of my 3 luxury apartments eating Raisin Bran cereal While you front, ’lo I’ll take my white rhyme down to world’s Fargo How long’s it gonna take? 900 thousand and clear, talkin’ with a clerk I don’t need a binge this year Took care of my paperwork Take the United Taxi out to Vegas While the average R’n’B group is doing a promo concert Ignoring your phone calls from broke labels Who try to put out underground MC’s Try to get me to rap on a wacky-ass track with one G How dare you try to insult me? I got 40 grand for 3 minutes to write a song with Prodigy Other crews don’t get, but you got the nerve to call me ”Welcome to the business” Stand as a witness, work on your stomach, use physical fitness I ain’t playin’ all this African stuff, all look the same
I don’t need a Joe Neckbone puttin’ his artwork on my CD Enjoyin’ Apple Jacks and Honeycomb, with me sittin’ on the throne No, I’m takin the regular picture by the hotel Saint Bonaventure Besides I do wear a cold blue winter And eat at beautiful resturants... yeah!
Yeah, leave me alone! Hey Keith, we want you to be ill!
Why you think I should wear a motorcycle helmet? Why don’t you wear it? Put on some wings like a parrot Let’s discuss this contract Why are you hypin’ up a normal female group with fat cellulite that sound wack Most of y’all goin’ out like Uncle Toms, like Louis Armstrongs Wearin’ a tattoo and born on stage like Tracy Chapman I canceled a big tour ’cos I was prepared You’re on the roll with your damn money and ya’re all scared Why ya’ll walkin, look hard like your manager got your name All over your versatile card And plus, this video treatment sucks The fishlens effect The lens to the camera only costs 100 bucks Look at the director trying to tell me what to do I’ve done this before 14 degrees freezing cold doin’ Poppa Large with a cage over my head, that’s dead Don’t get your imagination too messed up I’m wearing a Yankee hat and a Starter I’m not dressing up How you gonna tell me what to wear? I don’t need mascara and a stylist Save that for a big rock group like Pantera Experience, Next Plateau, Mercury, Wild Pitch, EMI, Capitol, Dreamworks Never got robbed, put my lyrics away and stuffed Too many people with hands in my projects Havin’ fantasies of me being Superman, you actin’ stupid man I’m like Prince You might see me once every 5 years at the record company While most of you live at the label beggin for your rent and car notes to be paid Under the table doing routine dances for advances Oooh... you’ve been involved...
Yeah, leave me alone! Hey Keith, we want you to be ill! Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
