| Yo, I’m used to cold to the right, hot to the left |
| Turn 'em on let the warm water run down my chest |
| And wash away the stress |
| I swore to my momma she’d die a happy woman on my very last breath |
| I’m lookin back, reminiscin how many have left us |
| O.G.'s who used to squeeze with the best touch |
| Holdin chrome and hold they own, its messed up |
| Now a nigga livin through his ancestors |
| Saukrates, 23, turnin like 45 in the year |
| Cravin for the days when I’m out in the clear |
| Even though I’m livin |
| I might sacrafice my life but I won’t give in |
| Until those spokes is spinnin |
| And my homies chillin |
| And me dealin with no less than half a million |
| In a crib on some acres and had the children |
| Livin the life they deserve in this fake realism |
| I get you with the wisdom |
| You ain’t with it then kiss em… the nuts |
| If you dissin watch me from a distance |
| I’ma hit you with the words that’ll make your soul vibrate |
| The things that we contemplate. when we comin' up |
| I’ma hit you with the words that’ll make your soul vibrate |
| The things that we contemplate. when we comin' up |
| If you could imagine a day that’s black forever |
| Waiting for the sun to come up |
| As hard as you try its a lie you can’t change the weather |
| Maybe I should stop giving a fuck |
| (plus) you’ve been telling me that life goes on |
| But as this rap star trek prolongs |
| Guess I’m wonderin what else could go wrong |
| (all you can do is sing your song) |
| (pick them pockets nigga) |
| Make a lifetime journies into me |
| These endless questions, they plague my dome piece |
| Like, what I’ma do with all the groupies I might meet |
| Will I turn the other cheek, or do I turn the other cheek? |
| Please, freak, you gettin touched by this, west indian connection |
| Let me rub on your tits, and get in it for a minute to win it |
| Let you fall in love with it… then I’m out |
| Cuz I got work to finish |
| The music is my business |
| Do you love me? i’d bust out, to maximimize my biggness |
| Now ladies if you listenin I’ma make you my witness |
| I got no love for bitches, they be out with the quickness |
| Groupie parade plague, get your catagorized sickness |
| Who sayin that brother socks got it locked from L.A. to Brixton |
| I’m broke, but niggas’d kill for my position |
| I rap to that vince carter at skydome |
| If you see me on the beat, E.T. phone home! |
| And tell yo momma the drama |
| Your old high school friend’s on the tube, representin' Toronto |
| And doin it right, pursuin his life |
| Seems to take flight when he carresses the mic |
| Sendin this one out to cats with unsigned hype |
| Just do it for you, keep this rap shit tight |
| If you could imagine a day that’s black forever |
| Waiting for the sun to come up |
| As hard as you try its a lie you can’t change the weather |
| Maybe I should stop giving a fuck |
| (plus) you’ve been telling me that life goes on |
| But as this rap star trek prolongs |
| Guess I’m wonderin what else could go wrong |
| (all you can do is sing your song) |
| (pick them pockets nigga) |