One hundred twenty-three BPM
[Intro: Aceyalone]
Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one
The Good Brothers has just begun
In the place to be, rockin' every one
Let's go!
[Chorus: Phoenix Orion]
Yeah... say you want to be a superstar
GB's, that's what we are
Clonin' styles, you can't get far
You shot-callin'? Meet me at the bar
You think it's easy bein' a real GB?
Been in this game for years, you can't see me
You cats are wack and I'm sick of your crap
It's like real rap is gone and we're bringin' it back
[Verse 1: Busdriver]
You're just cloned sheep in the Southland
Havin' to comb the beach for Cal trends
Another bones reacher of SoundScan
A cocoa leaf and a thousand strands
Of dominant genes, a pocket of dreams
Of making operative machines, another federal database
And talking to teens who'll march and scream (Scream!)
Women walk in the scene and spread our auction wings
They know they're any and everywhere possible
Wolf-out form over a rare, volatile stare
Seepin' into every pore and their follicle
Microwaveable playlists affect your homeostasis
Come on, the homies await us
At the Afterlife baggage claim
Not for the average lame
But for the Good Brother
You're aware that UFO's could hover
[Verse 2: Aceyalone]
Well I sat at the back of the RadioShack
With the axe and a fat sack, hat to the back
And a jack, could've sold crack, could've rat-tat
Nap to the throwback, to the road trapped
Blown that back like a flapjack sap
But I'm black and acrobat and I know the facts
Some are wack, some attack, some'll break a back
Good Brother rap – on the attack, huh!
[Chorus: Phoenix Orion]
Say you want to be a superstar
GB's, that's what we are
Clonin' styles, you can't get far
You shot-callin'? Meet me at the bar
You think it's easy bein' a real GB?
Been in this game for years, you can't see me
You cats are wack and I'm sick of your crap
It's like real rap is gone and we're bringin' it back – ah!
[Verse 3: Abstract Rude]
This far, can't give up now
It's hard to make it in this town
No car, you can't around
Guitar surround sound
That's all that's calmin' me down
Pickin' me up off the ground
Hitchhikin', scooped up by a trucker, "Can you get me to the Greyhound?"
There's no escapin' this life, you chose your fate
You made your bed, lay your head
Good Brothers gonna wish you good night
All the sacrifices it took to put you in the place
Where you could win the race was
Well worth the wait, 'cause we paid the price on these mics
And can't nobody fade us
[Chorus: Phoenix Orion]
Say you want to be a superstar
GB's, that's what we are
Clonin' styles, you can't get far
You shot-callin'? Meet me at the bar
You think it's easy bein' a real GB?
Been in this game for years, you can't see me
You cats are wack and I'm sick of your crap
It's like real rap is gone and we're bringin' it back!
[Verse 3: 2Mex]
2Mex, altruistic, alter the future in the not-too-distant
It's not accidental, it's occidental
Ox in the meadow, rock over raw toxic instrumentals
Tactical Eskimo, attack of the invested flow
A murder sack of murder, all the infested grow
2Mex accelerant, without the use of an irrelevant amphetamine
A veteran of the ancient art
Of the doubled down, level-header, letter spin
Better tell a better friend
This is the last time it has ever been
If you don't understand, you're a never-been
Ow... a remember-when
[Outro: Aceyalone]
Thank you! Thank you!
Now that's how you really the party
Yeah – curb servin' .com
Project Blowed – that's what I'm talkin' about
Who you gonna call? Yeah!
Yeah, baby, and we love you, too
Say what, brothers?
How can you be a Good Brother? Put in an application
Go on home, tear it up... peace
