badge can't move the crowd (CROWD) And neither can a nightstick, that ain't slick (SLICK) But Ed makes beats like a bulletproof vest (VEST) Give it to
heard around the world from the wives of emcees These cats is payin' more than half a pound, my garment bag, I snatch it down Ain't got the state, but
snatch it down Ain't got the state but we could prob'ly run a blacker town Scenarios like this is tear jerkers For the modern MC, i.e. the blue collar
, look, what you sellin' I ain't buyin' With dude I'm done, tell him I ain't cryin' You'll see the proof when I drop my album It's the past now, plus
y'awright? Don't be pullin' de boy's chain too hard dere! He gots 'nuthuh show t'do t'morrow! Don't put dat in yo' MOUF, girl! I knows y'cain hep y'seff
to the bartender Slide us some sauce Yeah, the specialty The recipe, ain't gonna tell me no I got the specialty, ain't gonna tell me no one I got the specialty, ain't
on it's deathbed Cause when Betty Carter sings a song ain't nuttin goin on, but simply good music And you won't refuse it She's takin her time, makin
ain't no white cartoon Cuz I be duckin crazy spades The kid hold white shit, like blacks rock ashy legs Why is the sky blue? Why is water wet? Why did
that my mom and dad gave me my first guitar. Ah man it was gorgeous, I still got the thing. It was a like aqua blue. Kinda dark aqua blue with a cream
hats You Chicago nigga, you can't be that You ain't number one Joe, you ain't T-Mac Nigga, don't claim Brooklyn, don't do that When you niggaz come home, we don't
It feels like Wayne's World Not ready for the revolution nigga, it'll pass you by And you can't keep running away like Pharcyde Ain't much to shoot for
folders sippin bola holdin mad payola Slangin a Coke without the Cola Me and black don't fake jacks but we might sling one It ain't no shame in our game
that's all I'm thinkin of Give it to me now, here we go, now here to plunder We can flow with it now And I take it dowwwwwwwwwwntown I put 'em under somehow
and thongs Chicago pimps get paid when the record's on Rough - see me do my thing We're Detroit boss players with them pinky ringers Rinky-dink cheap whores without chips ain't
like California with baby?s eyes so blue Now I feel like Carolina: I split myself in two And I?m walking backwards from Chicago through Washington But that ain?t
ain't a come up, you need karate or the torch, Nigga's hate it, now they feelin' sorry on they porch, Cause I made it, I don't let the Ferari on the
a case My mind race at a cheetahs pace, with addidas lace. They fell in love with my neck, I don't need a face Nigga you ain't got shit if you don't need