dna (da nemesis attraction) – your call lyrics
(verse 1)
i remember waaayyy back…
i had that hunger in me
i still got that hunger down in me
got a k!ll, but still i be feelin’ empty
tempt me like aphrodite…
mixed with a little bit of some gin and rum
hard work, always did it the minimum –
charmer: sugar and cinnamon
then again, i got a natural talent
but if only i could actually use it –
had the time of my life
and you know what’s nice?
it’s like riding a bike, you never lose it
whenever i spit, i lit fuses…
tick-tick and then -boom-
i couldn’t sit in a room without
thinkin’ and figurin’ out who is
the rudest emcee in the pruvence –
province, i mean
but i’m proven…
tried and true
i’ve lived with the pride and the prudence
required to apply your shoeprint
in time with the music
i idolize and mimic
memorize the lines, and edify the lyrics
minimize the crime and criticize the critics
oh my…
will it ever be the same?
i’ma go out on this limb and guess ‘no’
exoskeleton, cuz my sh-ll is thin
but i’m h-lla-grim
and i smell a win, so let’s go
dna’s that a-ttract; b-ss phat
on the beat, “i am ahab”
payback like arabs, asap –
send ’em in a nemesis melee stab…
i need a payday bad
right away, fast, b-tchhh
no joke
i got the eggs and no yolk
i beg for chicken legs
and sift through my dregs like regular folks
i’m making this segment so
impregnable that genghis khan’d
break his own leg to penetrate my skull
i guess the ‘egg’ is symbolic
yes, it represents my noggin – (why?)
because it’s shaped the same
full of yellowy goo;
jello-ey gel of intelligence, fused
meld into an astoundin’ new villain
who sends the god-willing down to meet doom
there’s still room on the shelf in h-ll
between cruella deville and penelope cruz…
i just wanna be the toast of the party…
dress sick and mcfly, ilke marty…
chicks lyin’ poolside with they’ b–bs high
while i get high inside a ferrari
spit kung-fu…jujitsu…
judo, muay thai, karate;
choco-lava: si, grande!
lyrical krahv-maga songplay
all day blowin’ on hay…
gettin’ my gourd on (gordon) like bombay…
appetize rap entree…
advertise y’all tracks on broadway
‘cuz all y’all play this
long game like it’s not for keeps
soundin’ whiter than a godd-mn box of bleach
m-th-f-ckas don’t sound ‘hip-hop’ to me
suckaz ain’t hot enough to drop the heat
ut…
(chorus)
ain’t n-body gon’ bring me…down
n-body gon’ take my…crown
n-body can’t stop me…now
y’all dummies, it’s my call, yo
can’t n-body control me…
ain’t n-body yo’ homie…
n-body’s gon’ hold you, down…
(f-ck no)
so go stack ya money, big homie
stack ya money, big homie
stack ya money, big homie
(it’s your call, your call, right?)
make some money, big homie
take some money, big homie
go on, waste ya money, big homie
(it’s your call, your call…)
(verse 2)
i remember waaayyy back…
i had that danger in me
i still got that danger down in me
f-ck a pill – for real, i’m an iller emcee
rent cheap, but tax is whitey –
gimme some dim-sum and a dinner bun
winner-winner-chicken-dinner, wit a
cinnabon with it
“yum!” – said n-body, ever
not near-nada-never-none
got a beard and a pot-belly, anda gun
shotgunnin’ beer in an empty denny’s lot –
“can he hip? can he hop?
ahh…can he run??”
‘penny-penny-pick-it-up’, luck is waitin’
even though the f-cker’s out of circulation
like a diabetic patient’s leg
hanging by a thread
while he’s battling a sugar cravin’…
(yo)
a gorilla guerilla
battlin’ chimps and chinchillas until i can
out-do any fella
any time, any color:
b-tterscotch, chocolate or vanilla
i’ma pile of hot sh-t, so watch
where you steppin’ off the sidewalk
cuz often, i’ve thought
the box which i’ve thought outside of my whole life
is alive, and i won’t lie
cuz i walk beside caution…
(i…) just wanna be the boss, i’m…
(fly…) like an albatross in the…
(sky…) like calvin, hobbes and bill waterson
it goes on-and-on til i
(die)
m-th-f-ckas ain’t rid of me yet
pity is an enemy i’ll never forget
it’s your call, your call: nope
it’s my call, my call: yesss
(chorus) [2x]
ain’t n-body gon’ bring me…down
n-body gon’ take my…crown
n-body can’t stop me…now
y’all dummies, it’s my call, yo
can’t n-body control me…
ain’t n-body yo’ homie…
n-body’s gon’ hold you, down…
(f-ck no)
so go stack ya money, big homie
stack ya money, big homie
stack ya money, big homie
(it’s your call, your call, right?)
make some money, big homie
take some money, big homie
go on, waste ya money, big homie
(it’s your call, your call…)
(again)
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