[Verse 1: P.O.R.N.]
Maybe I pray too much and God think I'm
Just trying to use his love to get my dreams on
Should I go get a job or get my sing on
Tired of the back and forth of playing ping-pong
Married to the whore in me, no ring on
Sober ain't my tune, that's a Pink song
Drowning deep in sin, get your drink on
Until you start calling earl with no ringtone
Things don't just get worse they get worser
When you ain't got no friends you get further
When you got too many friends you get murdered
Either way you get fucked and I'm burnin
That means you fuck me, you going to get fucked
Sort of like when your P.O. hand you a piss cup
Lookin' at the lord like yo is it a mix up
Why you trying to give it to me like the hiccup
I know heaven, hell, and purgatory
Don't know why it's so hard to say sorry
Or why chicks front so hard when they horny
Probably cause' when I cum I'm like call me
I'm out your account needs a tune-up
That means sell your soul to get a few bucks
Niggas fightin' for crumbs so put your dukes up
You ain't trying to do that, you trying to do us
[Verse 2: Black Thought]
You already know, it's the star of the show
Mr. Dynamite from the 'R' double 'O', 'T', 'S'
In a bespoke suit from Savile Row
Two birds, one stone, I'mma' kill both
If I am not the illest alive, I'm real close
What you talking about Willis, Philly niggas still tote
Them Jam Boys stay on the job, it's no joke
Any other squad tryin' to survive, it's no hope
I'm cold Medina, like Rich Flav and Tone Loc
I mastered the track just like Tone and Poke
I keep them in the choke 'til the microphone broke
That's word to Samberg on a motherfuckin' boat
It's floatin' on the internet, you heard it from hearsay
It's your man you love, who be getting no air-play
I'm out of south philly where it's piss in the stairway
But pushin Panamera Porsches on the fairway
I'm certified sick, doc said I'm a head case
The Jam Boys clique we invading your air space
I flame throw a nigga like a lighter to hairspray
It's the world according to Riq' and Amir say
My own worst enemy, spit shit to penetrate
Got a feelin' my days numbered like a Kennedy
So let me show you how a powerhouse generate
Kenetic energy dumb dit ???
[Verse 3: Dice Raw]
I need a vacation, yeah... I need a break
A break from the bullshit, a break from the hate
A break from the fate, a break from the fake
The truth is nobody's going to reach the pearly gates
If the honors only going to be held for the saints
Been held by the cops and been held in restraints
Held back and restrained in the lower ranks
Locked out of Wall Street and locked out of banks
The loan department, somethin' hear stinks
They give a nigga scraps and they wanna' hear thanks
I want to hear my nine millimeter go bang
Pop-up where you hypocrites go hang
Set up shop, and then I start doing my thing
We terrorist, don't compare us to a gang
I came to make it rain, seltzer water and pain
Banana cream pops for y'all clowns what a shame
We laugh in your face while you sit and complain
You shoot paint balls, I paint walls with your brain
Can't you see that we playing two different games
Chess and checkers, the rest and the reckless
I'm a crack spot, nigga you're an Eckerd's
Breakin' new records, you better respect us
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