|
[Featuring Kandu]
|
You want bigger and better and higher and larger and more shit
|
Peaches and cream
|
To each man his dream
|
Harvest crops and props
|
Teaches teens how to throw dice and pick locks
|
I wish you knew the issue
|
It's all wallet politics
|
Done it done it
|
Seen it seen it
|
We seen it done
|
No opposition to none
|
Cause they remember that story
|
Bout him puttin some fools hand in a blender
|
Cause first things first
|
Gotta hold his down like (?) purse
|
And school his team like Vince Lomardi
|
No noble cause
|
From sea to street
|
Entrepreneur genius
|
They try to take him under federal conspiracy laws
|
Probable cause
|
Damn, that's Rick the man
|
With the master plan
|
CHORUS: (2x) [Kandu]
|
Somebody told me to deliver this message (pass it on, pass it on)
|
It was the 7th of July
|
7 years have moved, like out of place
|
So we rushed it
|
Watched us run straight to the front door
|
Took 4 steps, then he took 1 more
|
He rocked timbos from his ankles to his big toes
|
Wouldn't get caught without the flyest of apparel
|
He knew the scooop on everybody from me
|
To Geraldine Ferraro
|
First love was a Ferrari
|
He played more games than your average Atari
|
He said call me Big, but really I ain't the (?)
|
Dips call me often
|
And pops call me Junior
|
Lo-co, at times
|
I am the cream of crops
|
Ripped clean of props
|
Had the school imperials
|
On his materials
|
Everybody jackin so you know the scenario
|
Cause if he heard word
|
Well, not a word he'd utter
|
If he spoke fast not a word he'd - stutter
|
He never slipped into the pit of a gutter
|
Cause cousin's butter
|
You know there ain't another brother - similar
|
He got into the scene with open hands
|
And his love goochie
|
Got him the booty
|
But no (master plan)
|
CHORUS (2x)
|
Lookin at the sin, advance spin
|
Reminds him of memories
|
Of when he can't rest til he buries these
|
So he remains alone in his room
|
When his head hits the bed
|
He sees visions of being dipped
|
I guess you know a good thing til you lost it
|
Tossed it
|
The limelight of paparazzi
|
Get a grip, don't trip
|
Then cause if you trip
|
You slip and pinstripes wasn't his shit
|
So I guess he got a reason
|
So he grabbed the number 9
|
To define gettin even
|
His definition was this
|
A death wish, kiss Tish
|
And told Cha-Che to hold the mayo
|
Payo, payo was the sound of the oddo
|
But little did he know another brick would be his motto (ha, ha, ha)
|
In the wall, stretch limos
|
And rose of eyes, in disguise
|
Like stain glass windows
|
With more flowers than I've ever seen
|
Got the Visine for this thing
|
You know, easy come, easy go
|
You may think it kinda strange
|
Since the beginning God's been giving in to angels
|
But take back
|
CHORUS (2x)
|
Pass it on
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
The Master Plan
|
| Dream Warriors |
