dirtywater. lyrics

Cool Cee Brown:
Two dope boys in a Toyota
Flippin my Motorola
Sippin Hennessy and Coca Cola
The black Ayatollah
Spit game at a roller
The soul controller
The doctor diagnosed me as bipolar
Cause my style keep switchin
And my eye keep twitchin
And my palms keep itchin
Call the lab the kitchen
That’s where I cook
Metaphors is marinatin
And the similes is simmerin
Add a lil flavor, lil basil, lil cinnamon
Let the beat bake in the fire
Here’s the kindling
We came to win
Like Arenas and Jameson
Give us one shot, I swear
We could start a career
If not, I’m a start a fuckin riot
And put the A&R on a all-lead diet
Run up in the label office on some Columbine shit
On some Palestine shit
No matter who I’m signed with
Jimmy Iovine gon’ be duckin the red beam
Clive Davis stuffed in the rental from Avis
Lyor Cohen gon’ have to meet me in Time Square
With guns drawn
If I don’t get a chance to perform
I’ll set up Barry Gordy
In a hotel with shorty
Then bust in
And beat him til he hand over the publishin
And I ain’t even a thug
Y’all drove me to it
I don’t wanna hurt nobody
Don’t make me do it

Chorus-
I feel like somebody might get shot
If I don’t get a chance to rock
I feel like somebody might get kill’t
If I don’t bring home the money for the milk
I feel like somebody might get hurt
If I gotta wake up early in the morning
And go back to work
Don’t prove me right
Don’t let an innocent life
Get lost tonight

Joe D:
Joe D is so confident
You think he authored it
Fathered it
Kool Herc, Bambatta’d it
Nah, he’s not a novice
He’s more like a rottweiler with the collar off him
Foamin at the mouth, hungry
While you smacked out on the couch
To put it bluntly
I want g’s and millions
To feed my children
And please the misses
Seize the business of these rap fans
But, goddamn
It’s too many niggas rappin
Half of them ain’t got the potency
To emcee
Joe simply is better
But if I can’t move these CDs
Out the FYE's
And Best Buys it don’t matter so
If this fuckin rap shit don’t pay
I’m a start sellin drugs around my way
I’m a trade in my beat machine
For some hard white creatine
To feed the fiends
Play Freddy Krueger of the pipe dream
Used to be a mic fiend
Tried to do the right thing
But fuck a punchline
When I got 6
And they want 9
Baby cryin
I’m a do what I gotta do
Money is necessary, it is not optional
(Say it again!)
Money is necessary, it is not optional
And I ain’t even a thug
Y’all drove me to it
I don’t wanna hurt nobody
Don’t make me do it
Chorus
Killin everybody in sight
Killin everybody in sight
Killin everybody in
(Repeat)

Joe D:
You ain’t hard chief,
You probably a car thief
Roll in a black Dodge Jeep
No car key
Boy, please
You ain’t hardly as hard as your bars tell
You crab ass rappers is soft shell
I ain’t a player, dog, I’m more like Parcells
I push weight like I’m underneath the barbell
My gutter speech is ugly as all hell
Yeah, ya’ll was on top but then y’all fell
Ah well
That’s how it go in the field of rhyming
They fate be sealed and signed and
Delivered to them niggas with them Smiths & Wessonses
You was a macho man, now you scared to wrestle him
You full of estrogen
This nigga suspect, bring him in for questioning
You five years past relevant
Nigga, hop off my vas deferens
I’m from Maryland where they blast metal
And meddle in
People’s business like they house windows and car locks
Think PG the suburbs?
Come around my block
Or rather where I live at
Down Marlboro Pike
Old heads smoke the Marlboro Lights
You got your car stole twice
Young niggas off the dippers and ill
At the go go beatin they feet
The cops beatin the street
Heads fiendin for a hit of that rawness
They OD on Joe D
No need for drugs and viles
Because they love the style, nigga

Chorus:
They love your style
They love your style
They love your style
Oh yeah (oh yeah!)
Oh yeah (oh yeah!)

Repeat 4X

Joe D:
Yes, the Lord has blessed him
To make beats, rap and record the sessions
I could be on the street with a cardboard message
Or smacked off that hardcore resin
But yet and still this is the day that the Lord hath made
And I’m a rejoice and be glad in it
You not livin in your purpose, get your ass in it
And don’t wait until the last minute
I’m past timid
I’m past pimpish
Past all those niggerish images
I don’t mean to carry you, I’m not nice
I’m sort of like Christ
Spittin parables through your stereo
I’m tryin to reach them youngins that’s quick to Wayne Perry you
Youngins walkin round venereal
Uncurable
Dog, we in a crisis
People want a piece of the pie
But they knifeless
That’s why I write this
I’m that raw
Iraq war and gas prices
Drug dealer, be careful in the spots you bein in
Might see you on Fox and CNN in the PM in
Your jail suit
Be careful, them cops’ll nail you
But you already know this
Joseph is the dopest
To bitch made rappers
He’s like a male chauvenist
Best male vocalist
You Scarface, then I’m Francis Ford Coppala
Niggas drink Hennessy
And smoke weed to Joe D
And even though the thugs is wild
You know they love the style, nigga

Chorus

Cool Cee Brown:
I met her down on U Street
Comin out Republic
Her cleavage was on display
For all the viewin public
She had these tight black britches
Showed off her fat lil hiney
She had a pretty smile
Her teeth was white and shiny
I said, “You look sexy”
She said, “Why, thank you kindly
You not too bad yourself, boo”
I said, “Why thank you kindly”
“You look kinda familiar
You be round here performin”
I said, “We can talk about that bullshit
Tomorrow morning”
Then I put her in my Nissan
She said, “Turn the heat on”
“No need to turn the heat on
I got a Joe D beat on”
I put the thang in drive
We was ready to go
Til this bamma rolls up
And starts bangin on my window
He was screamin at the top of his lungs
Lunchin in the street
I looked at the lady in the passenger seat
And she was shakin like a leaf
Her face went pale
I didn’t ask no questions
It wasn’t hard to tell
Now, I had to choose which move to make
See, I was parallel parked so I couldn’t escape
So I stepped outside the ride
My chest filled up with pride
To my surprise
He was twice my size
And there was least about fifty-leven people outside
Was I gon’ fight or hide?
I had a second to decide
See, homie didn’t know what I had in the glove box
And homie didn’t know if I was really thug or not
See homie off the drinks,
Homie think he juggernaut
And he don’t know his girl’s a slut
I’m droppin her off up the block
And now this bamma’s reaching
Oh shit, this bamma’s reaching
“What you bout to do?
Don’t do it! Don’t do it!
She nothing but a roller
You ain’t pushin no stroller
You ain’t tryin to wife her up
What make you think you can control her?
She always gon’ be rollin
She always gon’ be boppin
You think that you in love
But you look like you cock blockin
But there’s another option
And there’s another way
We can both walk away
And live to love another day
Geah”

Chorus:
If you want it, you can have it
But think before you grab it
Cause we don’t want no static
Cause that shit’s automatic

Automatic (Repeat 4X)

It was just another evening
Out the house I’m leaving
Got inside my truck
Closed the door and put the key in
Made a right on Martin
Luther King Junior
No unfasten seatbelt
No illegal maneuvers
I’m feelin jive good
I’m switchin lanes calmly
Ridin so clean
No liquor, no marijuanie
Sinnerman blastin
Made it out to Maryland
Oh, there go my turn and
I made a left turn and
Ran through the light
The joint was yellow as hell
But them boys threw them lights on
And the sirens as well
So I pulled over to the shoulder
Why they pull me over?
I ain’t in the mood to deal
With no bitch ass patrollers
He walked up to the car and
I rolled down my window
Looked him in his face and said,
“Sir, is there a problem?”
He said, “I need your license
And your registration”
And I cooperated without hesitation
You know them boys be trippin
In PG and the District
So if you is a nigga
Keep your head on the swiver
I gave that man my papers
His light up in my face and
Asked him one more time
I said, “Sir, is there a problem?”
He said, “Yeah over in Oxon
Hill somebody ran up in that Exxon
And pulled a gun
And, you know, they robbed him
And you fit the description”
I said, “You bullshittin
Man, I’m on my way to Clinton--”
“Sir, could you please step out the car
and put your hands where I can see em?”
Now please tell me the reason
That this European see him
As a crook and don’t believe him
I hopped out the car
Feelin like 89 O’Shea
This is gonna go one or two ways

“Yo, this is some bull, man”

“Sir, you need to calm down”

“Man, look at my shoes
Do you think I'd be robbin a fucking Exxon?
A fucking Exxon?”
Chorus

Joe D:
Step up to the podium
I Kobe em and OJ em
Oh, damn
This nigga not playin
Thought he was bojanglin
Joe slow to show anger
Still leave ya leavin the club
With a slow stagger
I rock out call him Joe Jagger
Toe tag ya
All the mo badder
Valentine’s Day over
The takeover
More dirt for the water
Hash for the reefer
Cash for the preacher
Even Condoleeza said I’m ether
The keynote speaker
Barak Obama
The game is polticial
While has been niggas
Livin off of residuals
Vh1 interviews
Mixtape interludes
White collar criminals
White powder chemicals
Mixed with the cocoa leaf
Supposedly
But most of these
Rap niggas in to
Subliminal diss records
The game is infected
I’ve come to heal you
Music to make the lame walk
And blind see
Boxing’s Ali
And b-ball’s Jordan
The courtroom’s Cochran
And hip hop’s Joseph
Piss off most of y’all
So-called tightest
Bang on the ASR til
I got arthritis
Or carpel tunnel
And spark the blunt too
The young Sun Tzu
Mastered the art of the 1, 2
Mic checka
I riggedy wreck the set
And emcees left
Like keys on the dresser
At ease under pressure
With meta-phors
Similes, puns, double entendres
And watch a brother strongarm ya
You a role player like
BJ Amrstrong or
Olden Polynese
Think ya man spittin?
No! He is not a beast
In fact, you owe me an apology
Get ya shit
And get the hell off my property
And don’t come back
Til ya learn to rock properly
You are not stopping me
You could not possibly
Believe you could rock with me
Your rap career’s dead
Buried, a corpse
While you fidd’na get ready to start
We levy the cost

Chorus:
Do what I say off the TDK
With the button on record
And the other on…

(Repeat)

Cool Cee Brown:
Chicken-shit emcees
Throwin cock at the rooster
Shook like you thought
I might shoot ya
My rhyme make ya sit down
And think about your future
Can’t keep smoking weed
And drinkin like you used ta
Gotta have a plan
You not an emcee
It’s a hobby
You jock the
Hottest rapper getting sweated
By the disc jockey
Copy of a copy sound sloppy
Ya punchlines are weak
And your set up’s predictable
think ya shit is tight
Cause you rhymed 3 syllables
That’s not lyrical
So unoriginal
As a matter of fact
It’s quite pitiful
In middle school
I spent a lot of time with the principal
They put me in therapy
Sent me to boot camp
To keep me off the block
Sellin weed for food stamps
My cousin got killed
My sister got killed
My homie Fat Sammy
Lungs collapsed smoking ill
I miss em all
Like names on the Vietnam vet wall
So I use my gift to protect y’all
God-commissioned
Like a biblical prophet
Which is ironic
Cause I’m an agnostic
I -hgmf teuf- hockspit
That’s how I feel about you
You say you’re real
But there’s really nothing real
About you
You’re a liar
I’ll say it again
You’re a liar
This a joke
I need a smoke
Joe pass the fire

Chorus

Cool Cee Brown:
My shit is so official
And that’s on the fashizzle
And I wanna get with you
Even when I’m not with you
That fact that
I’m always thinking about you
Is the issue
You a hundred percent woman
So I’m a be a man
And come when I say
I’m comin
And if I can’t make it
For some reason
I hope you don’t think
It’s cause I’m out here cheatin
I got to handle my business
It’ll only take a minute
And I promise
I will get back with you
When I’m finished

Chorus:
She said
You ain’t gotta burn up
All ya daytime minutes
And we ain’t gotta talk
Til the battery is finished
All you got to do is just
Call me
When you get home
And we ain’t gotta spend
The whole day together
An you ain’t gotta tell lies
And promise me forever
All you got to do Is just
Call me
When you get home

Cool Cee Brown:
I’m nice with the mic
So I ain’t got time for a wife
In my life
No wedding bells
No time soon
No ice, no rice
Give you no cut cards
With no sice
Can you handle
bein lonely sometimes?
Wanna talk
But I’m away
Doin a show in New York
Next week Philly
After that, Durham
We sign to major label
It’s gon’ be nonstop tourin
I love my baby girl
But I don’t need no more chil’ren
And I don’t need you all up
In my business interferin
I ain’t bein cold
I’m just layin out my cards
I work hard, play hard, love hard
And lovin me is hard
So tell me are you up for the job
Can you handle my mood swings
All the smoking and drinking
Constantly movin
And hardly ever speaking
She grabbed me by the hand
Kinda firm
And said, “Sweet thing…”

Chorus

Yeah, I can do that (Repeat 4X)

Cool Cee Brown:
I ain’t tryin to blow smoke
Or pull the okey doke
Or take you for a joke
I know you got plans
And you thinking bout the future
And I know you getting sick
Of cell phones and computers
Email, voicemail, text message, holler
Email, voicemail, text message, holler
I ain’t doin dirt
I’m tryin to earn a couple dollars
Then let it earn some interest
Observe how I pimp this
Game
Take the dough and run
Like Jesse James
Then bring it back home
And I’m giving you everything
Until then, I’m stayin on my hustle
And if you start lunchin
You’ll force me to use the muscle
I am not your daddy
And I am not your homie
I’m the one to call
When you feel a lil lonely
But only
If you exercise a lil patience
I know you anxious
But, shorty
How can I explain this?

Chorus

Yeah, I can do that that (Repeat 4x)

Cool Cee Brown:
My Pontiac ain't got no rims
I treat my women like friends
And my friends like the closest kin
I treat my kin like precious gems
And my daughter is a diamond
Reflecting my light, shining
Sitting back in my recliner reclining
Reflecting on my life and times
I often had to fight for mine
That's why I got the right to rhyme
Like this
My experiences was expensive
But my life is priceless
The mic I wifed it
And piped it til it's lifeless
And if you don't like it
Then you can suck my dick
Let me break it down
For you right quick
I never slip,
I hold the mic with a tight grip
I come around, get hugs
Handshakes and pounds
You get carried like a casket
On its way to get buried
Six feet underground
You sad face clown
Never quite as tight
As Joe D and Cee Brown
We never walk away
From everything we struggled for
Dreamed about and hustled for
Me and my big brother Joe

Chorus:
Me and my brother Joe (4X)
We gotta get this paper (3X)
We gotta get it,
got got to get it

Cool Cee Brown:
Praise the Lord and pass the Courvousier
Watch the way I rock and sway
Listening to Marvin Gaye
The DA got a inch-thick dossier
He think I'm moving cross
The border with blocks of yay
He got my phone tapped
All inside my private life and
Everytime he hear the word dope
He start typing
They don't like him
They frightened of his thunderous thoughts
And lyrics like lightning
Striking like a viking
Swinging a axe
I put a dent in your back
You look silly like a pipehead
Singing for crack
You faking them jacks
Me and my partner
Got no patience for that
So when we see you, cat
We taking your plaques
Uh!
We never walk away
From everything we struggled for
Dreamed about and hustled for
Me and my big brother Joe

Chorus

Cool Cee Brown:
No I never sold Os
Sat in my room and wrote flows
Similar to what he blows in his nose though
So I suppose I'm the one that provided
The streets with the first legal
Narcotic
Product
They so grateful
They call me the rap Rayful
I stay so
Cool, so daper, so graceful
Look at his shoes
Man, the suede so
Soft
If he kick you in the ass
you'll probably like that shit
You hate to love him,
try to fight that shit
But you can't
Don't nobody rock the mic like this
I'm the original, genuine article
So it's illogical
For me to follow you
It is impossible
Or highly improbable
I am the trailblazer
Heaven sent hell-raiser
When I smell hater
You little chickenhead
Hit me on my cell later
Bend over
Touch the toes of her Chanel gators
She got a drawer full of toys
And big pink dicks
Pretty pink lips
loose enough to sink ships
I talk slow, walk slow but I think quick
Your album dropping with no buzz
Think brick
I get high without no drugs
I'm so sick
Beats got the sniffles
Rhymes got a nervous tick
We never walk away
From everything we struggled for
Dreamed about and hustled for
Me and my big brother Joe!!!!

Chorus

Cool Cee Brown:
Dirty Water flowing from the faucet
We work hard to get the shit tight
now we exhausted
Can't stop recording til the record is flawless
and wifey in the kitchen cooking omelets and sausage
DooDoo in the back pouring glasses of yak
I'm sitting on the patio, ashing my jack
Joe tweaking levels trying to master the track
Turn the bass up
the neighbors need an aspirin for that
But they been asking for that
It's the return of the boom bap
a far cry from animated gangster cartoon rap
jigaboo coon rap
black face bafoon rap
The people gone soon snap
and say the shit is tired
They need hotter fire
They need to get higher
You keep serving bush, they gone find a new supplier
You about to witness the birth of an empire
It's a lot of tight rappers out there
but him flyer
Your wage stay the same but now your rent's higher
You start to feel like the type of worker pimp's hire
I feel you brother, I am in the boat with you
So I come to the hood to politic and smoke with you
Drop a dope quote with you

Chorus:
Hip Hop music!
(Make me feel good)
A cup of yak and orange juice
(Make me feel good)
And an ice cold brew
(Make me feel good)
A microphone in my hand!
(Make me feel good)

Back in 94 they used to say my shit was John John
Freak daddy, hands on the cheerleader pom poms
She look delicious in a terry cloth Sean Jean
pink jumpsuit with the white Vicky thong on
I remain calm and positive
But if shit get tricky, draw blood like phlebotomists
And sip yak out the gob-let
Til all y'all start to look a little Shawn Carterish
I don't give a fuck who started it
But shit look suspect and I don't want no parts of it
You bammas always talking that retarded shit
Beefing, but you act like you don't know where my apartment is
I'll be waiting for you, sitting on the front stoop
Fist balled up, ready to punch you in the front tooth
Ever since I was a young youth
people always told me, "Claude, you're so uncooth."
I couldn't give a smooth shit though
You talk a lot of trash but you're still on my dick though
You probably take it up the shit hole
with a cucumber and a fist full of Crisco
You shake your booty like Cisco
but this a Hip Hop show
not a fucking disco

Well, maybe I just don't like your bamma ass
Especially the way you always trying to pose when the camera flash
You a super model with a Cristal bottle
With all that jewelry on, it's kind of hard to look hostile
I spread the word like the rap Ted Kopple
or a Christ apostle
spitting street gospel
I stand firm, can't be toppled
even by the force that made the twin towers topple
As far as style, I got a lot, boo
If you want a little taste, all you gotta do is stop through
I got rhymes that'll rock you
and Joe got beats that the breakers pop lock to
And kiddie car thieves pop a lock to
And fat to death strippers pop a cock to
DC and Maryland thugs, they pop a glock too
You want some hot fire?
All you gotta do is stop through
We got you...

Hip Hop music!
(Make me feel good)
Turn the bass up loud!
(Make me feel good)
A fat youngin to smash
(Make me feel good)
She got some titties and ass!
(Make me feel good)
Hey (Yeah!)

Cool Cee Brown:
Hey
It’s Claude
Remember me?
We exchanged numbers the other day
I’m busy doin nothing at all
So I thought I’d give you a call
And damn
Your voice sound sexier
Than I recall
I remember you from the mall
Kinda dark, sort of tall
Sophisticated
But not overdone at all
I guess I’m tryin to say
I like your style
It’s nice to see a young lady
With class once in a while
But
I ain’t tryin to take up
All the time in ya box
It’s a small problem I got
Some people say I talk a lot
But
I was just callin
I see you out doin ya thing
When you touch back down
Give me a ring
Holler

Chorus:
I don’t know why you would fake
On a nigga like me
I’m so great
I don’t know why you so late
All I wanna do is
Take you for a date
You missin out, girl
Stop, wait, okay
Is there a problem?

Cool Cee Brown:
Hello
It’s me again
You never hit me back
I’m sittin in the house alone
Sippin on some yac
You was on my mind
All day at work
How your booty looked delicious
In that long skirt
That was nasty
I hope I didn’t offend you
I was just callin to see
What you was getting into
I can never seem
To catch you in the crib though
It’s rainin outside
I’m looking out the window
Stormy weather always
Puts me in a foul mood
Hit me back
I’m looking forward
To hearin from you

Chorus

Cool Cee Brown:
I know you don’t think
You’re too good or you too cool
To return a phone call
Maybe I’m just a fool
Perhaps you have a man
Maybe you been busy
Surprised you haven’t
Seen me around
It’s such a small city
I think I seen you the day before
You have a nice apartment
Highrise, second floor
You exercise in the morning
I see you stayin healthy
I’m sort of out of shape
Maybe you could help me
Maybe you could fix me a meal
That chicken you was fryin
Last night looked scrumptious
I hope I’m not bein
Too presumptuous
I just wanna take you for a ride
Hit me back
When you get the message
I’ll be waitin outside

Chorus

Cool Cee Brown:
It's a black man doing his thing
I'm a hustl-er
I could sell an asshole
to a buttcrack
You a customer
Cut the check
I'm on that now
Got beef with the industry
Fuck the cash cow
I'm a milk this bitch until her titty dry
Gave up the ganja
but the music still get me high
I only smoke to celebrate the night Biggie died
and one thousand rappers changed they name to Mr. Jiggy Fly
My light could illuminate the city sky
My dope is so potent it could get the whole city high
It's like the war on drugs all over again
Only this time the fiends gone win
The wheels of fate spin like chrome rims
Pen microphone hymns older than Stone Henge
With no chronic
just seven or eight beers
I swear I'll spit a 152 sonnets of Shakespeare
Make no mistakes, dear
Claude Akil Nadir's here
to crush hate and fear
until we all straight
Yeah!
If you got locks or fake hair
Kufis or Kongols
hooptees, Durangos
Bentleys or Crown Vics
crash bar, police kit
If you a sweet chick
or gobble and eat dick
I don't discriminate
I love all y'all
I hit the stage cheese grinning like Paul Wall
Take a foul shot for the cock and hit all draws
Y'all youngins need to man up
like you got small balls.

Joe D:
Joe D, man of renaissance
I been a don
since Kindergarten
I wrote rhymes on construction paper with crayon
Dirty Water shit
Y'all niggas ain't on the level they on
In the game where rappers fall off and stay gone
For fifteen minutes its
bling bling wristeses
Fake ass grown man sophisticates
In they blazers and button ups
In the booth fucking up
Sucker duck emcees
Man, we catch you out there
Maryland, DC, Northeren Virginia
We all gone eat cause I'm ordering the men-ya
Recording independent, yeah, fuck them haters
Divine supplication gone up the paper
While these rappers sufficate ya
with a buch of nathan
We interrupt your station
for the following real shit
I'm in control like the steering wheel, throttle and gear shift
I need plaques on the wall on some bottle of beer shit

Cool Cee Brown:
I rock like a lyrical beast
Tend to my flock a spiritual priest
Far from thugged out
I represent peace
like a buddha monk
You a punk
lunching in the street
I touch him on his shoulder
Slow down, soldier
Cold as you are there's somebody colder
Life will show ya
as you get get older
Listen what I told ya
Allow me to mold ya
Teach and coach ya
Expose ya
to culture
Learn you how to keep your little young ass composure
Like Luke to Yoda
Mr. Miyagi
Pissy drunk off Saki in the Marriot lobby
Compose a manuscript that the biters can't copy
Written in sanskrit
on microscopic floppy
I dare you
Name somebody that can stop me
I'm David to Goliath
I'm Clubber Lane to Rocky
Back up off me, don't crowd me, just watch me

Chorus:
It's hot tonight
The police will
Put out yor lights
Nigga, keep still
They flash them lights
Make your jeep yield
Sclumped over with your hands on the steering wheel
It's hot tonight
We got plenty beer
Looking for women
We got plenty here
Posted up
Nigga, I ain't going anywhere
Sclumped over with a red cup of Remi, yeah
Sclumped over with a red cup of Remi, yeah
(Repeat)

Cool Cee Brown:
Don’t need no fancy jewelry
Don’t want nobody talking that shit to me
Don’t need no fancy car
Got nothing to do
With the person you are
Don’t need no $200 shoes
But maybe I want some $200 shoes
If I should buy some $200 shoes
They my shoes
Not your shoes
You shouldn’t pay
Too much attention to my shoes
Shouldn’t be the reason
I’m the man you chose

Chorus:
I don’t need no more complications
I believe you have suspect motivations
I know your type
I’m familiar with the game
I been around for a minute
Ain’t no need to explain

Cool Cee Brown:
I ain’t tryin to take your son to the movies
He got a daddy
He can take him to the movies
I fuck around and take your son to the movies
He’ll be callin me daddy
That shit is not a movie
Next thing you know
You’ll be pressin me for marriage
But how many work out
On the average?
Especially when they both
Young, dumb and stupid
Before we do it
We should put some thought into it
First off, you gon’ need a better job
Second off, you gon’ need a better job
You should consider goin back to school
Can’t support you while you do it
You not dealin with a fool

Chorus

Cool Cee Brown:
Not tryin to let you move in my apartment
Your name’s not written on the lease
Of this apartment
You did not apply to rent this apartment
Because you can’t afford to live in this apartment
Why would I wanna share my apartment
And always have someone there in my apartment
Next thing you’ll be answerin the phone
I ain’t with it
Girl, I like to eat my breakfast alone

Chorus

Don’t need no fancy jewelry
Don’t want nobody talking that shit to me
Ooh ooh ohh
Yeah-eah yeah-eah-eh-hay!
Don’t need no fancy car
Got nothing to do with the person you are
Ooh ooh ohh
Yeah-eah yeah-eah-eh-hay!
Ain’t tryin to take ya son to the movies
He got a daddy, he can take him to the mo—
Ooh ooh ohh
Yeah-eah yeah-eah-eh-hay!
Ain’t tryin to let you move in my apartment
Your name’s not written on the lease of this ap—
Ooh ooh ohh
Yeah-eah yeah-eah-eh-hay!

(Repeat)

Cool Cee Brown:
The man is come
I’m outstandin, son
Hip hop heads gon’ demand the drum
So I’m commanding some
On the count of four
Let’s jam it on the one
1, 2, 3, 4
Give em that bass they been askin for
Get up on the mic like a nasty whore
Player haters wanna blast me, sure
Hip hop ambassador
Rap diplomat
Took a sip of yac,
Spit a rap
Lit a jack
Real shit is back
In effect like Skoob and Dray
Remember where I came from
So I never lose my way
They say
I got an unusual way
Cause I don’t identify with young dudes today
They don’t like women
And they wear a lot of jewelry
And buy big cars
To overcompensate
Now take two steps to the left
Uh huh uh huh
Take two tokes of the sess
Uh huh uh huh
Take two sips of the X
Uh huh uh huh
O
Uh huh uh huh
Joe

Joe D:
Ya girl wanna snatch me outta my outfit
You illiterate
Niggas can’t touch this
Lazy niggas putting dents in they couches
Can’t fathom the time
I spent on that shit
Plugged into the outlet
Yes, we are
Smacked off the green shit
Rolled in a cigar
Big bottles of liquor
Drunk ass niggas
Need a ride home
Couldn’t operate the cizzar
Deejay spin the record
And the jam plays on
Two days off, five days on
Gotta get that cabbage
Rest on the Sabbath
In between time
Indulge in bad habits
The world is yours
Young nigga, have at it
I’m rockin for my niggas
From Clinton to Glass Manor

Cool Cee Brown:
For all of you hot bammas
We hoppin on a first class flight to Altanta
Uh
Real shit is back
Sit back, listen to the track
Zone out!

Are you the all seing super human being
All knowin
Y’all flowin strictly for per diem
Can’t seem to get ahead in the biz
You dead in the biz
Gotta make some bread for your wiz
A bed for your kids
Whatever it is
You love hip hop
And you said it for years
You bled it for years
You sweated for years
You shedded your tears
Rejected your fears
And pressed on
You been in plently gun fights
With no vest on
You stroll up in the party
With your best on
A lot of brothers floss
But you wanna have the best stones
I feel you totally
That’s the way it’s s’posed to be
Before the devil told a nigga
“Come get on the boat with me”

Joe D:
And hopefully
You can get your mind right
Smoke the cocoa leaf
Turn to Iron Mike
I can’t help ya
Hand to hand sellers
Do time like Mandela
Fuck what the man tell us
Them niggas can’t kill us
Ounce and gram peddlers
Caught in the system
Like a Maxell cassette it’s
Enough to upset ya
But we gon’ party for y’all
Go hard
It’s been a long week
Let the song speak
To ya
Get ya feet movin

Cool Cee Brown:
Take two steps to the left
Uh huh uh huh
Take two tokes of the sess
Uh huh uh huh
Take two sips of the X
Uh huh uh huh
O
Uh huh uh huh
Go!
Real shit is back
Sit back, listen to the track
Zone out!

Cool Cee Brown:
Smokin Black n Milds
And drinkin cheap cognac
Rewind that
I said I’m drinkin cheap cognac
That’s evidence to let you know
Where my mind’s at
Where my daughter, sister and mom’s at
Got friends in far away places
But I still keep in contact
Up in Joe D’s apartment
Catchin contact
Fightin with the devil
In perpetual combat
I just wanna be where my sister
DuSharne at
So when my nephew
Sneeze I can say, “Bless you”
Promised to my daughter
I would always protect you
And when you movin
In the wrong direction, correct you
And when you feelin down
I could tell you you’re special
Me and your mother
Never saw eye to eye
But neither she nor I
Like to see you cry
I can’t articulate the guilt I feel
That you was caught up in the mix
With lies and cheap tricks
Now some of it was her fault
Some of it was mine
Ain’t nobody got clean hands
Ain’t no point in lyin
I just hope that you can see
What I was tryin to do for ya
Beat my head against the wall
Til it was black and blue for ya
But things didn’t go the way I planned it
I couldn’t understand it
I took you for granted
But that is neither here nor there
My only purpose is
To let you know I care
And to make one simple thing clear
Your father’s name
Is Claude Akil Nadir
And I wish you were here

Chorus:
Wish you were here
(Repeat 4X)

Cool Cee Brown:
I guess I never knew you that well
How well did you know me
Guess by now, it’s hard to tell
So many years have passed
Since you passed
I still remember clearly
The day they put you underneath
The grass. It was nearly
Ten years ago or so
Swear I never shed so many tears befo’
But oh
Tight to my pops I clung
He played his piano
And then he sung
A sound so beautiful
Dedicated to you
In front of all of us
And all the folks you knew
Sometimes I wonder what
Life would be like
If you wouldn’t a ever
Got addicted to the white
Would you give me good advice
In rough situations
Or would you try to teach me patience
Or would you show me how to lead
The same life you led
We could sniff coke together
Then we’d both be dead
My mother speaks often of the horror
That’s why she so protective
Or her only granddaughter
And, man, you should see her
Got a head full of
Cute lil black girl hair
And oh yeah
Big brown eyes so pretty and clear
And everybody say she look like you
Man, I wish you were here

Chorus

Until we meet again