Conceive true deception multiplied a million fold
Visualize the
yin and yang in a battle so intense
that we get em confused
The resident evil specialize
in misconstruing
We wanna be at a presidential level -- what are we doing?
Foolin ourself,
clownin ourself, playin ourself
By not bein ourself
We can't babble no more than we can
bob our head offbeat
Nimrod by the time we forty cause we can't get our meat
While we ask
no reason for the misplacement of the season
look at the picture that's painted
Tainted as
the mind who's blinded to the point
where Sodomites get all the rights
We fall for fights
with fisticuffs
Get pissed enough to miss the bus
It disgusts me to see my folks run up
on
I say stand up on deception of time all of Revelations
And recognize this mind on the
reality of horror
known as mankind
Jesus and his twelve disciples make thirteen
A
righteous number of righteous men
Even Judas the Betrayer came true in the end
The Devil
say the end is the beginning
They teach that we were the product of incest
Invest no level
of self into their system of Paganomics
Stand with us and don't look back upon it
Just
face this mindstate
Otherwise Babylon...
(My memories of yesterday...)
[cut and scratched:] "Ninety-six gonna be that year..."
[Verse One: Andre]
I
bet you never heard of a playa with no game
Told the truth to get what I want but shot it with
no shame
Take this music dead serious while others entertain
I see they makin they paper
so I guess I can't complain... or can I?
I feel they disrespectin the whole thang
Them
hooks like sellin dope to black folks
And I choke when the food they serve ain't tastin
right
My stomach can't digest it even when I bless it
I'm confessin one mo' lesson from
the South we in the house tonight
Now hootie who wants to oppose? Suppose
We rolls
through Headland and Delowe
where me and my niggaz surpassed the flow
And got down for
ours like hind catchers
My mind catches flashbacks to the black past
while my close niggaz
laugh at
The Southern slang, figure ways and mojo chicken wangs
I grew up on booty shake
we did not know no better thang
So go 'head and, diss it, while real hop-hippers listen
Started by Afrikan Bambaata, so you and your potnah
Gather your thoughts
[Musical
Interlude: Debra Killings]
(Something's gotta change
Songs of laughter and happiness
comes from teardrops to rain
When daring despair, fortune may lead in my day
And slight
breezes of longing finally move my way
Like memories of yesterday...)
[Verse Two:
Big Boi]
Uhh, born Antwan Patton but my potnahs they call me Big Boi
It's the nigga
the B-I-G, be speakin the truth not talkin that shit boi
I'm thinkin of checkin my traps and
bustin my raps and throwin them craps
Seven-eleven is no convenience, you pumpin your gas,
they're watchin yo' back
For the robbin crew, thinkin they robbin you, you must be
cautious
To stand up on yo' game and pimpin these crows you must be flawless
Like Mortal
Kombat, but fuckin these wombats got you dizzy
My nigga you know of I wanna be playin but
runnin up on me like you miss me
You catchin the wrong vibe, packin yo' shit and rollin yo'
eyes back
Flexin up on the corner tossin your dice and rollin your Cadillac
But man it
seems I'm reachin out and touchin the wrong nigga
Don't expect me to be pimpin get your index
off the trigger
As we bust, us, we leavin em in the dust
So keep that clean up out of your
nose I said my piece and then I hush
As the candidate keeps flippin... niggaz dippin...
[Musical Interlude]
[Verse Three: Andre, Big Boi]
I really be love it we
are gathered to life
So pissed to lather we come clean
Some issues need to be addressed
like envelopes I mean
Oh like Liberty Bells yes them bullets keep on rangin
On fire like
the Georgia mass choir we keep on sangin
Bringin our folks closer together cause they severed
us from the get green
Light and we ain't gon' stop until we hit the big screen
Psych
because no one is free when others are oppressed
So, we hit the stage and then we fly back to
our nest
Growing old
Like some eagles, people don't understand
Just like their
parents don't be carin
I'm speakin about you playin with that phony stuff you sharin
in
your raps Mercedes Benz and all your riches
Thinkin you got it, but get it get it, but you
ain't pimpin no bitches
Cause you flaw, in, fallin like leaves into driveways
Isn't it
lovely smokin good and sloppy head on highways
Friday's are tight but Saturday just makes it
old
When tonight's are hot warm enough to feed your soul
Growing old
[Musical
Interlude 2X]
("96 gonna be that year...")
(Like memories of yesterday...)
[voice of Andre fades in]
see all them leaves must fall down, growin old
Fat
titties turn to teardrops as fat ass turns to flab
Sores that was open wounds eventually turn
to scab
Trees bright and green turn yellow brown
Autumn caught em, see all them leaves
must fall down, growin old
[repeat 3X]
