| Yo, I stay cousin to this, introducing Mr. Dave Banner |
| Scannin proper with my sight muscle |
| This rap shit, is just my night hustle |
| My J-O's to stay fearin of my G-O-D |
| Whether what may, meet me at the front door |
| See the pressure got a nigga knockin shit off his desk |
| Cause of the stress I stack words make cats bruise they neck tissue |
| Stay pertinent to the issues |
| Cut your tag too close, display these verses tight, virtuals |
| sort of like we supposed to, pantyhose raps you run |
| Stay like black folks some |
| mostly fakin it, to make it |
| I play low-key til it’s time for you to know me |
| Stir my lime with light, drink it down slowly |
| Holy shit! Now look what I get |
| A whole string of party people wanna run in my mix |
| In my world they wanna fit like melanin in a tit |
| Jam tight, they ain’t my fam alright? They ain’t my people |
| Them niggaz screamin fam til they rank measure equal |
| then vote, without leavin a note, and that was all she wrote |
| Arranged produced my slang’s obtuse |
| but some distort, tellin stories like Mother-the-Goose |
| My true fam’s back since with Vince Mason |
| We’ll draw on three, leave that body for the tracin |
| Ultimate high, like them drugs you be lacin |
| Coulda stood next to me, at the top of the key |
| but you had to play gutter, didn’t want to climb |
| Now you find yourself talked about in my rhyme |
| While you fools claim corners, we gon' claim theories |
| Y’all some stickball niggaz, we the World Series |
| Been here, just pleadin the same case |
| ever since we spaced about «3 Feet» |
| Pinchin your ears, inchin for years |
| but you still stuck at the mezzanine and |
| we at the penthouse level with the same old rugs |
| same old tubs, same old tables and same faults |
| Same crew and the same old train of thought |
| My guess you need to head West (who you foolin) |
| Thought we’d fall for your phonyness you’re (only foolin) |
| yourself, thought you were down — it takes more than a smile |
| and a couple of pounds to be crew |
| Man you bound to get your tail caught (who you foolin) |
| Spreadin yourself thin see you’re (only foolin) |
| yourself, thinkin all you need is the wealth |
| You need to peep your whole circle out |
| Yo, since Jam Master Jay been rockin without a band |
| and that sister k.d. lang been sexin without a man |
| we brought our ultimate plan to birth |
| Put in work for this game, it’s not a game to me |
| We’ve been furnished the props |
| Now we out to furnish properties we own |
| That’s right (so) cats might know we ain’t home |
| My throne’s threatened by fiends, try to do dirt |
| Play Tony Randall — have that ass cleaned |
| Unveiled I see your exhibition, y’all need to cover that |
| Fatherless styles, y’all really need to mother that |
| Same expose, different page |
| but when you see me in it it’s the same old Dave |
| Y’all silly, you’re just a civili', I’m a soldier |
| Troopin in this path til the death won us over |
| So if life is a party begin, to understand |
| just like the DJ, we stayin to the end |
| How you think you gon' get away? (who you foolin) |
| Changin faces on the regular you’re (only foolin) |
| yourself, big top status, paintin your face |
| Who you think you really gonna fool huh? |
| We watch, what we got so (who you foolin) |
| around on my premises you’re (only foolin) |
| you, into thinkin you can break in too |
| my place, and not have to face, our position |
| Who you foolin. only foolin |