|
Yeah, Kool |
|
Keith should keep it real |
|
He should rap about space and |
|
MarsYo, I'm tired of looking at everybody, same boots, skully hats in90 degree weather, looking to get into clubs for free |
|
I'm not smoking blunts, or looking for jazz records at the |
|
RooseveltI left |
|
New York, the city itself was stress depression |
|
High boots and urban beats, that wasn't my direction |
|
Producers filtering join in with |
|
R&BA million rappers, some clones trying to sound like me |
|
Biting my space styles, biting my horror core |
|
All I saw was |
|
Kool Keiths on my thaw |
|
Record companies had |
|
G'd off all my royalties |
|
Watching vinyl spin, local groups' wack |
|
MC'sSome try to rap with that perpetrate mobster crap |
|
Karl Kani jeans, fat stomachs in the limousines |
|
Mixtapes by wack |
|
DJ's adds doo doo play |
|
I'm on the turnpike, the city drifting down the highway |
|
Like a mirage, the style there is all illusion |
|
On videos out of town, peoples buy confusion |
|
Rolling high with cash pulled over down my eye |
|
Since I've been out, y'all can't see |
|
Is the world made of plastic? |
|
Is the city buried in dreams? |
|
YeahIs the world made of plastic?' |
|
Cause that's the way is seems, ow |
|
Is the world made of plastic? |
|
Is the city buried in dreams? |
|
YeahWatching |
|
TV so bored, while imbeciles hold the mic cord |
|
Graffiti playgrounds are played out, yo how'd that sound? |
|
Army fatigues are weak, is for the minor leagues |
|
No rapping cyphers or brothers in the rented |
|
BenzCrews on stage, acting hard with a thousand friends |
|
I saw the place turn plastic, crackers looping beats |
|
People with no deals, walk men rappin' on the streets |
|
I turned my back, 90 percent of the city sounded wack |
|
Payola scams switched |
|
DJ's like a rubber band |
|
Everybody clear with beats trying to be |
|
PremierClearing samples, your |
|
SP-12 fake examples |
|
My money grows with green from my own label |
|
While you act rich with no cash on the bigger label |
|
Your tri state ways are shut down by barricades |
|
In fact I packed my bags, and listened to |
|
E-40Mac Mall, |
|
C-Bo, and other rappers you don't know |
|
You're narrow minded and styles of mind you won't find it |
|
My sound proceeds with moog and undertone bass |
|
No comic gimmicks with beats rapping in my face |
|
I come back real, solid rock razor steel |
|
Taping your program, show the world |
|
I'm the man |
|
You copy Poppa |
|
Large, the industry is large |
|
Is the world made of plastic? |
|
Is the city buried in dreams? |
|
OwIs the world made of plastic?' |
|
Cause that's the way is seems, yeah |
|
Is the world made of plastic? |
|
Is the city buried in dreams? |
|
OwIs the world made of plastic?' |
|
Cause that's the way is seems, yeah |
|
As I do see sorta rugged wack beer commercials |
|
Some rappers are bought and puppeteered like the |
|
Ninja Turtles |
|
From Manhattan |
|
I heat up, yo light up |
|
Times Square |
|
I make noise like open high hats on your cheap snare |
|
No promotional shows, girls wear corn rows |
|
People with hooded sweaters on crack keep me on my toes |
|
I walk with straw hats, fake glasses in the projects |
|
Bring my ghost image so tense on the line of scrimmage |
|
Playing my numbers, waiting for the five to come |
|
Spaghetti out the window, people acting dumb |
|
Fire hazards wake the neighbors, your family's nosy |
|
I come and go as |
|
I please on blockhead |
|
MC'sYou bought new sneakers, no car, scrambling on the corner |
|
I'm not the star you are, the city's fallen far |
|
By mechanism, you're on my tip |
|
Stay off my penis, you've duplicated me for years |
|
Yeah, yeah, yeah, you are the one |
|
Is the world made of plastic? |
|
Is the city buried in dreams? |
|
OwIs the world made of plastic?' |
|
Cause that's the way is seems, yeah |
|
Is the world made of plastic? |
|
Is the city buried in dreams? |
|
OwIs the world made of plastic?' |
|
Cause that's the way is seems, yeah, ow |