|
Yo, in the year three thousand and thirty everybody wants to be an MC |
|
In the year three thousand and thirty everybody want to be a DJ |
|
In the year three thousand and thirty everybody want to be a producer |
|
In the year three thousand and thirty everybody want to tell ya the meaning of music |
|
I must appeal to you people with your faculties |
|
Cuz everybody else is gonna laugh at me |
|
People try to get over and take a crack at me |
|
The universe is one I see what rap can be: glorious |
|
Put in the Smithsonian, my podiums for holy hymns |
|
But you see who's controlling them |
|
**** myself off cuz of the egotistical mode I'm in |
|
No I can't slap you no five |
|
When you and your cuddy is talkin' shit about me outside |
|
People take pride in what they have no hand in |
|
Sorta like a phantom holographic handsome |
|
But deep inside he wants to do what his man done |
|
Just because his peers jeer and clown |
|
When your six foot deep no one hears you now |
|
They said we not compatible like deers and cows and owls |
|
So many rules and regulations say you're not allowed |
|
I'm caught in the grip of the city Madness (X4) |
|
My rhymin' shield deflects your puny rhyme (X2) |
|
If I had to describe the way I survive it's like vice squeezin' |
|
The reason I'm black and still breathin' |
|
Heathens will breed heathens so |
|
Everybody's suspect I must check your ID |
|
Cuz you lookin' sheisty you might be intelligence |
|
Someone that Del's against |
|
Opposite of positive |
|
When I drop the laws of gifts of nature be faithful |
|
Why should I hate you we ain't that different |
|
We may act different in some ways |
|
But we still grouped together like a ****in' survey |
|
Sufferin' and **** 'em all's the motto |
|
I'm trapped in a bottle |
|
My music's gettin' hollow |
|
That's what happens when humanity you follow |
|
Where every leak or info is hard to swallow |
|
Sell your Marlboros and car insurance |
|
Put niggas on the moon and can't for pay your burdens |
|
I smoke herb and rock a turban |
|
Meditate on the world and what's occurrin' |
|
A lot of white boys like the style and copy |
|
Dig in something deeper and you'll peep that were not free |
|
It's not about the separation it's about the population |
|
I'm caught in the grip of the city Madness (X4) |
|
My rhymin' shield deflects your puny rhyme (X2) |
|
Simple minded people always point the finger |
|
To bring it to a close as if life is their role, they path |
|
When all paths are intersections |
|
It all depends on the persons perception |
|
When I'm mad as **** you get shot |
|
and to some it's bad luck |
|
I believe you held something back for too long |
|
It grew strong |
|
And energy got its own will |
|
And people think they make music still |
|
But music is there with out you or me we just manipulate |
|
For better or worse so let it situate |
|
I get to make records and dough |
|
Paid out the asshole |
|
And still seen as another face on the totem pole |
|
Conquer, my sponsors are monsters |
|
And everybody thinks that I owe 'em one |
|
I'm glad I love music and life |
|
cuz it's easy to see the pain and strife and end it all tonight |
|
I'm caught in the grip of the city Madness (X4) |