[Verse 1 :Madchild]
Red line, razor blade gang, I'm an outlaw
Crack jaw, you won't see it coming hit you south paw
Torch the village cause they're really very hokey
k**in' all the villagers and spit like karaoke
Used to treat me like a trophy
Then things got low key, I was dopey
Now nobody even know me
And just because I'm doing good again don't mean you know me
Trust me, I am not the old me
And I cannot remember one thing that you told me
Relationship is stale, it is moldy
I'm fresh now a cla**ic, like great golden oldies
Not a Mack like Goldie
Never wack, I attack so boldly
sh** is crazy, life is like a blur
I could be a psycho but it's not what I prefer
New king, cinderella no gla** slipper
No black leather act for the wack stripper
Madchild lyrically I'm an a** kicker
Not a a** kisser, I'm a practicer
That's where a lot differ and I'm a lot different
Without a pot to piss in but I am not tripping
Cause see the clock and the clock's ticking
Badman, I'm a rude boy, shot lickin'
I mean no, I made no deal with them bowcat
Had to leave awhile and stop doing opiates
Stomp on a white boy, smash on a halfbreed
I don't give a f** when I rap, I am baffling
[Verse 2 :Madchild]
Yo dogs are good, most people s**
I'll probably grow up to be an old evil f**
Sitting on a park bench, cane and a cardigan
Thinkin' of the days back when Shane he was partyin'
And soon I'll be an artifact
Seemed like yesterday I was picking up a party pack (ha)
Now I'm worried about a heart-attack
Still child-like, AMAX and a starter cap
You can't cheat father time
Just be thankful I'm happy, I've had harder times
Things that I like, they are mad hard to find
I'm a snob, do my job, I'm a master of rhymes
I'm a ba*tard to some, to the rest sh** is good
Main fear? Not to do the best that I could
Not give it all I got, but still could do better
Decade and a half, group still we're together
Still birds of a feather
Still dope beats, ill words put together
Hip-hop saved me twice, that's a true fact
I still love checkin' for f**ing tough records
Used to have a pistol in my hand
Now I want blue skies, seeing crystal in the sand
I'm getting old, call me mister I'm the man
Still cold, still official as the plan motherf**er