We Major (paperbøy Remix)

[Chorus: Really Doe]

You motherfuckers better do your job and roll up

And watch how we roll up, and

I can't control it, can't hold it, it's so nuts

I take a sip of that 'gnac, I wanna fuck

I take a hit of that chronic, it got me stuck

But really, what's amazing is how I keep blazing

Towel under the door, we smoke until the day's end

Puff-puff, then pass, don't fuck up rotation

Hpnotiq for Henny? Now, nigga, that's a chaser

Turn nothing to something, now, pimping, that's a savior

Best things are green, now, pimpin', get your paper

High off the ground, from stair to skyscraper

Cool out, thinking we local, c'mon, homie, we major

[Post-Chorus: Kanye West]

We major? C'mon, homie, we major

We major? C'mon, homie, we major

We major! C'mon, homie, we major

We major! C'mon

[Verse 1: Kanye West]

Feeling better than some hеad on a Sunday afternoon

Better than a chick that say "Yеs" too soon (H-h-hey-hey)

Until you have a daughter; that's what I call karma

And you pray to God she don't grow breasts too soon

Projects tore up, gang signs is thrown up

Niggas hats broke off, that's how we grow up

Why else you think shorties write rhymes? Just to blow up?

Get they first car and then, IRS show up

He ain't never had shit, but he had that nine

Nigga come through flicking and he had that shine

Put two and two together and a little bad weather

Gon' be your whole family on that funeral line

-Reverend, "Was the strip clubs cool?

If my tips helped send a pretty girl through school?"

That's all I want, like winos want they good whiskey

I ain't in the Klan, but I brought my hood with me

[Verse 2: Nas]

I heard the beat and I ain't know what to write

First line—should it be about the hoes or the ice?

Four-fours or Black Christ? Both flows'd be nice

Rap about big paper or the black man plight

At the studio console, asked my man to the right

"What this verse sound like? Should I freestyle or write?

He said, "Nas, what the fans want is Illmatic, still"

Looked at the pad and pencil, and jotted what I feel

Been like twelve years since a nigga first signed

Now, I'm a free agent, and I'm thinking it's time

To build my very own Motown

'Cause rappers be deprived of executive nine-to-fives

And it hurts to see these companies be stealing the life

And I love to give my blood, sweat and tears to the mic

So y'all copped the LPs and y'all fiends got dealt

I'm Jesse Jackson on the balcony when King got killed