I'm gonna call in a day, the company's gone and I'm all alone All by myself and I'm meeting you, baby, yeah Inside my mind now I realized shadows will
[Verse 1: Black Thought] Knocked up 9 months ago And what she finna have she don't know She want neo-soul, this hip-hop is old She don't want no rock-
No, no Cold wind's blowing, confusions growing Signs showing, nobody's home Peer through your window, nothing but an empty soul Where'd you move? Where
We fly high, no lie, you know this Foreign rides, outside, it's like show biz We stay fly, no lie and you know this Hips and thighs, oh my, stay focused
Take the key and you'll find Lovin' you makes me feel I hold the key in my heart you know it's true When love time is right I shall give it a give it
If I could get the nerve, and move, I'd put them all to sleep. That would not be wrong for either you, or what it is we see. Somewhere there's a King
What, what happened to the girl I used to know? What, what happened to the girl I used to know? You've changed You're not the girl that used to do things
Well I can see you've got your motor running But don't you think you're movin' kinda slow If you feel the way I feel and let me get behind the wheel We
We're a people black as is your night Born to spread Amma's eternal light Which since time began Has been to bring truth to every man Our ancestors have
Knocked up nine months ago And what she's fittin' to have she don't know She wants neo-soul cause hip hop is old She don't want no rock 'n' roll She want
(intro) "naw man not this mother fuk ass." "dont let him light it up." "no man we tight you go ahead and smoke that all to yourself dawg
Jah wutz up baby? Chillen aint nothin wutz goin on, man? playa, where you on ya way to? Im goin to tha hospital, son. why, whatz wrong wit chu? Naw,
Bird gang Club Banger Tryin' to holla at you shorty One focus, one focus only Tryin' to hit that thang, let's go We make hits in the studio nightly We
Cold sweats from bad dreams I hope the Feds don't grab the team 'Cause we been labeled as the trouble makers We sell whole pies so you ain't got to cut
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, man It's magic, E40 and my partna T-Pain (Nappy Boy) Open up that garage, it's a big fat car With a big fat bow on top It
Smoke up, do what you must do Wake up, inhale the earth grown fumes Higher than mountains, but oh so goddamn deep The morning star we reach, think for
My knuckles have turned white from holding your hand, oh, so tight Your hand in mine feels too right My tongue has become tied, I'm fighting back my insides
put on your dancing shoes and move to this free-form beat. yeah. the syncopation of discontent is the sound of non-participation. so put on your dancing