Ezekiel's Wheel

George ClintonGeorge Clinton 

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George Clinton

George Clinton (born July 22, 1941) is an American singer, songwriter, bandleader, and music producer and the principal architect of P-Funk. He was the mastermind of the bands Parliament and Funkadelic during the 1970s and early 1980s, and launched a solo career in 1981. He has been cited as one of the foremost innovators of funk music, along with James Brown and Sly Stone. Clinton was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1997 with fifteen other members of Parliament-Funkadelic. more »

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Ha, okay

Was fifteen, probably out mackin'
Red steel-plated staircases, schooled this young rapper
Big cappin', reenactments, some are jealous, some are fractured
Some'll watch them dreams slip away, that's another chapter
Change occupations, more abrasive, wanna change this season
Bang harder for a feature, soul Franklins like Aretha
Made me sick, how you snitch? Pussy purr like Eartha Kitt
Can't determine if you think I'm ill or you just ridin' dick
I icebergs the exterior if I decide the fit
Had to pen the verse proper, so they can't deny the shit
Wrote these verses at my momma's house, I hope she fast asleep
'Cause if she heard the music, no excuse to drag my feet (damn)
How it feel to be a misery, a counselor for the creeps
The perception, how I'm watchin' horror movies every week
Can't repel what's in my head, I jot in thought and form and speech
Some say it's poetry, some say it's ESP
Read your mind, align your chi's, and burn your negativity
Bumpin' Junior Reed
I harnessed mine, so who am I to people please? (Bomboclaat)
Cop fleece, cold winters, caught me like the CDC MP3s
And achieved the Jesus Piece through DLC
I see too many, tryna pump you like it's creatine
I'ma keep it G with my niggas, we don't flee the scene
Runnin' up the tab shoppin', only time I flee the scene
Watanabe on the tracksuit, you can't see the seams
Off the liquor, feelin' hunnid-proof, big my self-esteem
When the drinks is flowin' in the juice, shawty slippery
Told me to just skrrt off in the coupe, let me get the keys (get in)
Long as Rick Owens on the boot, shawty look at me
Steppin' for a second in a suit, check the drip on me
Wreckless for my section, they my dudes, they gon' stick with me
Hate is every color, every hue, got more shit to see, for real

My good intentions (my good intentions)
Gave through to severance
What's the meaning of spoilin'
A tin man with foil?
So, let's call it even
Everyone's keepin' secrets for oilin'
Have Ezekiel's wheels gone squeaky?
Have Ezekiel's wheels gone squeaky? (The squeaky wheel gets no grease)

Blind to you niggas, Collie Buddz, we just raised the fiends
Skated on the opps with a trick, we just reign Supreme
Flatbush on the top, your favorite rapper's still okay to me
And they ain't even wavy, B, they sneak into the major leagues
Tried to stay humble, but I'm far too gone (that's right)
When no liquor's in your cup and then your song is on
Go to wars, we been scrappin', when it's on, it's on
Brilliance untapped, I backtracked, I'm feelin' reborn
Grind harder in this gorgeous storm
Exchange out the Charles de Gaulle
I do fly shit, and my routine ain't for all of y'all
I ain't have nothin', I evolved with no one involved
Envied all the ones who can afford to take the summer off
But I'm a Brooklyn nigga, ain't no difference in us, we just are
Raised off of Nostrand Ave, right next to the liquor store
Poppa playin' Lady Saw, and the tree was Sycamore
Had to keep my eyes open, just in case, we hit the floor
Music on, platforms, sequins drawers, disco balls
This the sauce, get endorsed, buy up all the boulevard
We define the echelon (we define the echelon)

And there it is 
So goes the story
Do the best you can
And then f*ck it
Then fly off
(Feel alive)

(The squeaky wheel gets no grease)
Yeah, yeah
The joke's on you, baby
And then f*ck it

My good intentions
Gave through to severance
What's the meaning of spoilin'
A tin man with foil?
So, let's call it even
Everyone's keepin' secrets for oilin'
Have Ezekiel's wheels gone squeaky?

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