The waterproof MC, you ain't wettin' me
|
You need to stop rappin' and start robbin' banks like Steady B
|
Cause see, no matter how much green you make
|
You never taste the avocado, just another broke Versace model
|
Tiger Woods ain't even up to par in the game of survival
|
That's why I'm pissin' in y'all Cristal bottles
|
Drink Listerine, brush my teeth with amphetamine
|
So I can sound fresh and say dope things in between
|
Three strikes to five mics (forever snortin'), I want a woman
|
With the body of a whore and a personality like Lauryn
|
Can't even say I didn't know, 'cause while we wanna be
|
NWA they create the NWO
|
How many years? (fo' mo') so fuck them fake John Gottis
|
Ain't got no Maseraties, I be at the party sippin' hot toddies
|
My shit bumps in Arabic, out Audis in Saudi
|
I'm thuggish ruggish to the bone, and I'm gonna diss everybody
|
|
Chorus (x2):
|
You want the truth? Can't handle the truth, you want
|
Lexus Moonroof, Hennesssy 80 proof
|
Scared to death, playin' the game of life
|
Soul on ice
|
|
I keep the afterparty swervin', (*inhale*) not quite like Michael Irvin
|
Edumacatin' urban youth, like it or not
|
These soliloquies explain our people's lack of stability
|
You keepin' it real, but ain't got a clue what reality really be
|
See the diameter of your knowledge
|
Is the circumference of your activity, me?
|
I knew the deal before Babyface went solo, baggin' dime pieces
|
Stackin' dividends and dressin' in more linen (Lennon) than Yoko Ono
|
But on the low doe, we fightin' over the scraps
|
Worshippin' the Almighty Dollar
|
"In God We Trust," look it over
|
Now what the fuck pyramids got to do with the pilgrims or Jehovah?
|
"Novus Ordo Seclorum" means "New World Order"
|
That's why I keep my friends close and my enemies closer
|
You runnin' around in thousand dollar clown suits
|
Better get some boots when Lucifer turn your city to Beirut
|
|
Chorus: (x2)
|
|
You want the truth, cna't handle the truth, you want
|
Lexus Moonroof, Hennessy 80 proof
|
Niggas scared to death, playin' the game of life
|
Soul on ice
|
|
I avoid one-time, got Lela Rochon callin' my genitals Sunshine
|
Fifth floor on the Mondrian, so go 'head nigga,
|
Pop your dime, I'm the man whose esophagus
|
Transforms to a fuckin' gat like Megatron
|
Here's a sport unknown to Bob Costas, give it a name and you a hater
|
But violence don't play that game, mayn
|
Guerilla penmanship, the preacher impeacher
|
Heat-seekin' MC when I get pissed like a urethra
|
My day-to-day I'm tryin' to bubble, first place
|
This paper I chase, Touch Me and Tease Me like Case
|
But in the millenium, CREAM turns electronic
|
UPC barcodes on the hands is demonic
|
They got concentration camps from Alaska to Jersey
|
For when the President declares a national emergency
|
You're payin' car-notes, tryin' to Rock The Vote
|
I'm spittin' razor-sharp quotes tryin' to slit the Pope's throat!
|
|
Chorus: (x2)
|
You want the truth? Can't handle the truth, you want
|
Lexus Moonroof, Hennessy 80 proof
|
Niggas scared to death, playin' the game of life
|
Soul on ice
|
|
Uh, uh
|
Yeah
|
I'm rhymin', beats provided by Diamond
|
|
-----------------
|
Soul On Ice (Remix)
|
| Ras Kass |
