Sometimes I think it's easier to backslide
And do the things that naturally just pop in my mind
Like stoppin at the liquor store and buyin some Gin
Or buyin a pack of Philly Blunts and frying a 10
Or going to the club on nights I know it be jumpin
And straight puttin my mack down and leavin with something
Or reachin for my strap because you looked at me wrong
Or callin women names and sellin dope in my songs
But when I think about it, it kinda blows my mind
'cause if all women are hoes, then that means I got nine
My daughters, my sisters, my momma, my wife
My aunties, my grandma's that watched me all of my life
and man I'd like to be famous and I'd love to be rich
But what if a rapper called my daughter a, and called my momma a trick
Would I just laugh and say his lyrics was tight?
Would I still think that what I'm hearing was right?
But when I sit down to write, its like I'm obligated to sound like these fools
Have every other word rhyming with 22's
Or platinum and bling bling
never mentioning Sing Sing
Rikers Island or Chino
it's all about the c-notes
And I don't see no reason to stop it
I'll have the Neptunes do my beats and then everybody gone cop it
And then I'll get in that magazine that you like
Another half wack album with 3 1/2 mics
but I want to make music that stands the test of time
I want to be more than a man that just can rhyme
And got many rings,and got many chains
and many things but when he rap he ain't rappin bout anything
And when he came and was dead
He might have sold a million but you can't remember nothin that he said
and then another head will come and take your place
Just like Ja Rule did Pac and like Loon did Ma$e
Hey but let's face it if I could sell 7 mill, and get to chill with Big Tigger in the basement
Man I'd be happy and you could find my replacement just give me 80 acres and a mansion adjacent
To a swimming pool and a waterfall
a basketball court and a Bentley and I got it all
and pool parties with the groupies and leeches
and jewlery that'll leave em speechless
but I kinda know that I'd be sellin my soul
and makin a trip to see the father man that's better than gold
And I can hold a million hundreds and fifties
but if he choose to punch my clock I can't take none of it with me
you can't believe everything you see
if all these rappers are so happy why they need to smoke weed?
there's something missing but if they look to the sky
they'd see they dyin to live, because they livin to die
