Lyrics:
The name is Eazy Bob Wizzy
You welcome to the album fam
You welcome to the album fam
You welcome to the album fam
You welcome to the album fam
A yo l go by
still takin' rappin' for a joke
A passing hope or a phase with a rope
Sometimes I choke and try to believe
When I get challenged by a million MCs
I
it home (Gotta make it home)
Tryna make it home tonight
(Gotta get back home) gotta make it home
Gotta make it home tonight
Jones i be thinking' bout
Louisiana takeover
And like Hova I'm versatile
Real niggas gonna retire
I'm be like George Clinton round this bitch spiting that 45
with this little light
Judge(George) if you wore Buba
Wa! Don't be shaken, I'm enchanted
I'm naughty by nature Hip Hop Hurray
Hey! now they can say whatever they like
You're the apple
and over and over i was raised by
KRS 1, I was raised by Tribe Called Quest
I was raised
By DMX the last real nigga alive? Naw
Nigga! We real
Niggas alive,
Rip George Floyd
But women
Rip Breonna Taylor
Trans people
Rip Tony McDade
And Children too
RIP 7 year old Aiyana Stanley-Jones
Killed by SWAT
Yo this
takin' rappin' for a joke
A passing hope or a phase with a rope
Sometimes I choke and try to believe
When I get challenged by a million MCs
I try
out nobody call you
You invite everybody out not one of yo homies fall through (except diff jones)
But soon as a nigga need something they talkin
Yeah
We done fought too long
Yeah
But we still strong
I am royalty (Hey)
Off the color of my skin
Man they don't want me to win
It's annoying me
rappin' for a joke
A passing hope or a phase with a rope
Sometimes I choke and try to believe
When I get challenged by a million MCs
I try to tell them,
Stanley by God Terry knew exactly how it felt
To play a George Jones song in a white leather belt
With matching shoes, polyester blues
At the Pine
(goddamn goblin)
We are not the same, I am a martian
A year ago, I was poor, somewhat
Now my future's brighter than Christopher's new haircut
Bruno
accept me for who I am
Just understand maybe I can find a place
Where it's okay
Chante's profile is not marked private
Just by her pics you can
See why
down 1st Street
Hit the Avondale, whenever we thirsty
Spilling Jones, breaking bottles 'cause they dirt cheap
Now I'm waking up at 9 am to cue the first
To find her kid
I don't need no helpin' hand for no other man
My name ain't game, I'm really who I say I am
I think I'm getting more
Accustomed to the beef
lean wit' it, pop wit' it (Bankhead)
'Vertible Jones, mean with the top missin' (flossin')
I'm sittin' clean with the bottom kitted (do it)
I hopped
lean wit' it, pop wit' it (Bankhead)
'Vertible Jones, mean with the top missin' (flossin')
I'm sittin' clean with the bottom kitted (do it)
I hopped
Whattup people
This is NOE, Baltimore Beast man
Dipset, Byrdgang
Jim Jones, waddup, Max B, Jha, waddup
It's not a game man
I feel like man, I had
(slab!), back on the block (block!)
With the hustlers pleading a album, the crank, they froze on water rocks (rocks!)
The boy Emmitt had me shining when I
veins
Slammin' screen doors and pickin' helps to ease my pain
From the choir to the back pew to the honky tonks
Playin' no shows like George Jones
And shawty say: "please sing to me"(hah)
I tell them
"Baby, never ask me to, cuz I won't care"
There's no such thing
As having "me and you"
Cuz girl, I am
can't move the crowd
Well then what do I rap for?
Catharsis or fame? AmI harboring my pain
Am I trying to change the world
Or just marketing my name? Am I
stand it, so whaddayou say
Too $hort can't rap, no fuckin way
But here I am, workin in the studio
And your album ain't out because you're movin slow
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