| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 3:04 | 
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| 2. |
| 2:53 | 
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[Intro:]
Yeh, you know it yeh Detroit City Guilty Simpson, clap it up y'all Beats at will, yeah [Verse 1:] I don't really care what squad you wit Cause a real nigga don't need sponsorship And a posse don't make me hard I'm a leader so I gotta play these cards and face these odds Ain't no time to chase these broads Tryin to get paper to create these jobs And it's a fact when you're black that you don't know how to act When your bellybutton's touchin your back, yeah That's why a lot of us fuck with the crack Cause it's the easiest way to double your stacks And all the hoes scream "Where the hustlers at?" Usually the pretty chick with the bubble in back Word to Dilla dawg I'ma get it all Combination safe behind the picture on the wall Even though moms raised me right I swear to God rap shit saved my life [Chorus:] Yeah, all the people in the back sippin 'gnac We representin for y'all niggaz, do it! ("clap your hands") C'mon, it's a party ("You and you and you to clap your hands") Everybody All my people with the drinks in your cups Turn the muh'fuckers up and go nuts [Verse 2:] My mood swings like pendulums; I got two birds One's a middle finger and trust me that's the friendly one Because my Desert Eagle will kill all who envies him We transport info quicker than Pentiums I'm gutter, what I'm spittin is classic So walk on eggshells or I bury you bastards I rep the D, so when you speak about me I'm the letter between C and E In fact I'm the one between 3 and 3 With a smokin gun commitin B and E's And I don't fake at all, all I can be is me And if you don't like it I dare you to get excited Detroit nigga my area is the tightest The raps come easy, live it see it and write it Drug war shoutout mentally sick men Naturally my breed's equipped with thick skin [Chorus] |
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| 3. |
| 3:00 |
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| 4. |
| 3:57 |
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| 5. |
| 2:31 |
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[singing:]
All I need in, my, life is There, is, no-thing like this I never felt, quite, like this All I need in, my, life is There, is, no-thing like this I never felt, quite, like this All I need in, my, life is There, is, no-thing like this Ohhhhhhhhhhhh! Uh uhh [singing:] Incomplete when, you're, away You turn my, nights, into days You show me, the, light uh-huh Gotta, have, you, right away I never felt, quite, like this All I need in, my, life is There, is, no-thing like this I never felt, quite, like this Feels good! Ohhhhhhhhh Yeahhhhhhhhhhh [singing:] You, breathe, life, in-to meeeEeEeEeEe Fo' life in, I'm, in, too deep I'm, ad-dic-ted, uh-huh Something tells, me, you're the one (YEAH!) I never felt, quite, like this All I need in, my, life is There, is, no-thing like this I never felt, quite, like this All I need in, my, life is There, is, no-thing like this I never felt, quite, like this |
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| 6. |
| 1:57 |
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| 7. |
| 2:40 |
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Villain'll hold the mic like he's mean and his tummy hurt
In a clean pair of ripped jeans and a bummy shirt Wonderin would you clap your hands if he was friendly? Dapper Dan dipped and pretend to be Fendi and gold sellin No tellin, slap a fan hand down, tell 'em "no yellin" DOOM- all capitals, no trick spellin Got what it take to get it through your thick melon (Woopwoosh!) Fresh witty city skits When he get wrecked, pretty emcees catch titty fits Told them call the cops, just don't hold your breath for the ball to drop Better yet, hold on to your halter top Kept reppin, steppin in hotta Ignoring pigs like Bigs Top Shotta Survivor of a live crew, not out to jive you It stings when he laugh when he at the bank drive-thru Wildin', get me every red penny Sold a lonely only child a imaginary enemy When he sees the mask and the microphone gizmo He's the broke host this is like his own quiz show This go out to all my brothers doin long bids and sisters Who got brothers bein fathers to the wrong kids Stay strong and ride like the funky flute Won't find the Villain in the street inside no monkey suit Or either at the bar in no gorilly bra Nor raceway park scoring on no silly car Ask the stranger he knows who you really are Behind the mask face stay dark, no boring willy star Gleaming, dreaming, screaming- he'll be off the heezy soon Cunning live rats drive at your steaming greasy spoon In participating places tip your waitress' A sure fire way to wire, trip the matrices Skip ya laces, all black tennis miniature Ball stack, gall tall pack, Guinness minister Tussle the hustle, cut your dank with dirt Won't be in the club in no muscle tank shirt You could find 'em in the pub with the grub stain Chuggin on a small tub of pain to his bugged brain Insane, some say he plum crazy Amazed at how he still get paid but dumb lazy That's for him to know and for you to guess Won't be caught in a suit vest at no computer desk A suede front, maybe may stunt khaki dig Not in no braids or no lace-front yacky wig |
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| 8. |
| 1:34 |
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| 9. |
| 2:30 |
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| 10. |
| 3:27 |
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| 11. |
| 2:45 |
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| 12. |
| 1:25 |
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Roll me tight, lick me dry
Just lace me up now let's get hi-ii-ii-igh Hit the train, dump the ash Now take two pulls, and pa-aa-aa-as It's no joke it's, it's no joke in this All day and night we smoke that c-h-r-o-ness There's no dough on this, no 'dro in this All day and night we smoke that c-h-r-o-ness Goin out to my true smokes, this one's for you Group whore tokin, got me lifted like a bulldozer Superman mad got me floatin Like I just smoked some shit from Simpson, again got me chokin We be in the van rollin off that, Cheech & Chong Keep your bongs, I'm straight with the cognac Phillie Want a hit, don't act silly Unless you put five on the sack Willie Smoke it with me if you got it I smell it let me inhale it Trendsetting, got a good roll for you It's tight like fresh trim, all floss, no stems Think I'll put flame to it It's no joke it's, it's no joke in this "Ahh Mary Jane, I'll call call you later gotta go into action" "Well..." |
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| 13. |
| 3:28 |
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| 14. |
| 3:15 |
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| 15. |
| - |
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| 16. |
| - |
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| 17. |
| 5:00 |
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| 18. |
| - |
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| 19. |
| - |
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