2012 Was A Good Year

Intro:

Yo, I don't look back that much

Stay forward thinking

But since Home Sweet Home

I want to say 2012 was a good year

Verse 1:

This is for my niggers from back in the day

Outside Ministry chatting up dames

Mabel shop chicken mayo

Ain't watching weight

Watch your back cos them gangsters on blades

Dog in the booth, pull out like I'm trying not to father of a youth

But that remains back in the day

Not the type of boy to get gassed off the fame

Or the type of boy to get gassed off the change

Well, a little bit

Sometimes you gotta love some pretentious shit

Bond Street, Kane, I'm splashing today

I was rocking Dolce Gabbana before that was the way

I was wavy when you wanted waves

You were datsun-ing, you were do-ragging for days

Fashion crazy, follow fashion, nah, fashion insane

On a plane, come back, case full like I was ...

Trying to make the kind of green that only Bruce Banner would lace

Some niggas can't match with the pace

Dat dat dat dat dats my life

...?

There's no Jack Bauer nigga

C T you can't 3 me forward another hour nigga

So start living your dreams never an hour my nigga

I ain't stop because the beat stopped

I'm official I've even got my Chuck D drops

You know what time it is, Rollies and the Hublot and the G-Shock

I remember trying to make some Ps Don

Weighing up my spliffy in the weed spot

[Verse 2:]

But that remains back in the day

Now me and my nigga G macking in Spain

I'm in Nigeria, Beirut and Australia

(Them times there, weren't nothing like them times here)

Niggas In Paris, yeah that shit was cray

Compare stamps in my passport in business

Been there done that, car-keys/khakis and linen

Bought more than a t-shirt, carnies and slippers

Secondary school I'm far from an infant

Sceptics say the only thing is charting that's missing

I've come so far off bars while I give in

Everybody knows the fucking realest

You're looking at too much swagger meets too much content

Blink and you miss it like Ali and Liston

Want my shoes but they can't really fit 'em

When I merk tracks its the cars that I sit in

Cos Formula 1 the master the rhythm

On my Birdman shit trying to master the business

Attack these record labels like the army on missions

Some labels got these niggas in some Ali submissions

Taking merit for a pass I'm distinction

Must pay homage I'm a Master of rhythms

Come through big Entourage like I'm Vincent

They worship my flow like my bars are religion

[Outro:]

Jack Bauer ... 2.4

You know what time it is

Been there, done that

(24 soundbyte)