Close your eyes Listen (Listen, listen) They give niggas time like it's lunch down there, Jack You go down there looking for justice that's what you find: just us
It's comedy, it's hilarious Look yourself in the mirror tell me times ain't the scariest For me droppin' album after album like it's a various artist compilation But it's just me and HB and this shit take concentration Niggas know I don't drop this often so cherish it (So cherish it) Like your daughter's graduation, kids, marriages When the culture vulture swoop down they start exploitin' the sound Thеy drew up contracts for our niggas, Dru Hill to Dru Down And I'm prayin' they set Instеad, most artists don't live as good as the execs And they end up depressed Scarred by A&Rs, the music be changin' And the culture be shiftin', so you gotta move with it Call me the party crasher, that plan spoiler That Malcolm seein Maya Angelou in Ghana holdin' a camcorder Ghetto reporter, live from 40 Side, you know my storyline First project rapper, triple platinum with New Yorker pride
King's Disease Most of us catch it at one point or another But evolve, find a new formula One that takes everything in you to make
The audacity, masterfully crafted these classics So naturally, had to be Nasty back at it They argue KD1, KD2 or Magic, what's harder when KD3 go harder than all of them? Back in the 9-0s, barely rubbed elbows with CEO's I was dolo, I bet it shocked y'all to see me grow And the 0-0's, I still ain't attend much industry dinners Had to tend to my business, go past the sky's limit The hate gon' rise quicker so how could I manage this disadvantage? Niggas Planet Hollywood, I came from a different planet Leave it up to me to break the news you won't see on the screen Chuckle at you motherfuckers, we the last of the kings Shout to the real ones like us, it's a shortage, it seems I'm underground and overground and it's never been seen Real counts on my streams Got real people tappin' in so that's what that means, indeed
It means I got nothin' but the real checkin' in We locked in, all the way Just applaud this, yeah I'm trapped in hip-hop, you know what I'm sayin'? Like, I couldn't get out if I wanted to All us rappers are trapped And if we can't get out, you know what I'm sayin'? 'Til we over, 'til it's dead, 'til we in the dirt When I'm fifty years old, I wanna have fifty-year old fans Sixty-year old fans, sixteen-year old fans
Compositores: Lionel B Richie Jr (Lionel Richie), Nasir Jones (Nas), Alexander Hollis Chauncey (Chauncey A Hollis), Jesse Blum (Blum), Justin Boreta (Boreta), Mark Watts (Alan Watts) ECAD: Obra #38128135