Your Old Droog - Complex City Cypher lyrics

[Part I: Wiki] Yeah, it's Wik' People say that they want me, tell me that they could sell me I ain't a product, I produce honest sh**, you's a wise-guy talk in ebonics Using some chronic to get me to the level where I only settle for the rawest The flaws that makes it flawless What I see, just record it Caught you up in bombers, whether brawling or warring I'm just a bar with bars, not the type that you swallow The type I spit till I'm hollow Oh, I'm hollow, I'm a [?] Put it in perspective, bro, it's right upon us That's how I always saw it So even if it's just a couple bucks coming out my wallet Oh, we balling From the day we started till the day we call it Call it what you call it And nah, I'm not no artist but I do raw serve some broad who's gorgeous If you f** with it, pump with it till it's boring We'll be touring Coming back for more and more and coming back for more Up on the train, 86 and it's reckless, I visit my mom 42nd [?] by the dogs Dog, I ain't never had no keys, not to a car Do it right, do it wrong I remember used to steal them cars First it was orange then it was green Now they all gone Now we all beige and we gotta paint it[?] First time I kiss on the train First time I got lit on the train First time I got gripped by the pigs on the train You don't know what it is on the train You don't know what I did on the train I fell in love on the train I been through hell on the train, don't tell me a thing Let me maintain, let me maintain I know I'll be well on the train [Part II: Your Old Droog] Check, check, YOD, listen Yo, I got mad riches, groupies been on my tip Bad b**hes scoop me in their fly whips Braless, bumping Christopher Wallace Breeze off on impalas and officer Morales like, "Catch me if you can" Only ones who sketch me now are fans Morale is high, I'm the man Where everybody act like they your man and dislike you Simply cause you don't go along with their plans, do what you gotta We sipping horchata at the Borgata A lotta cats die to live this life They don't know how to, fools prolly oughta expand their bandwith To get the man a myth and a fresh pair of Stan Smiths And I don't know about no dapper clothes or zapatos Tell you 'bout Beefheart and Zappa, though I use a word like apropos and still debow tea bags Out of backstages at rappers' shows, take it for granted I take a bag and fill it up with free water That seventy-five cent, wearing a three-quarter coat Should've got something shorter, exceptional rhyme hoarder Spit the sh** you wish you would've thought of This that heat, producers think I need 'em I'd replace 'em tomorrow and I wouldn't miss a beat Degeneration-X tell your clique to s** it Throw Timbs to your Gucci hat, kick the bucket And I ain't even meet Wyclef yet Knew I was popping when I got my first d**h threat Told 'em to come see, hit him with the address Never worry 'bout no bad press, talk about me Let 'em pile on, cause now they gotta file on The kid who play finger style, strings made of nylon Coming with hot lines for you to get your dial on Always hear Old Droog spitting that Dylan Dylan, Dylan, where the hell is Dylan? Probably hiding out on West 8th and Highlawn Slingin' dilz to a Section 8, Adrienne Bailon Sneaking out at night and getting busy with the Krylon Lookin' for someone to wild on While on d**, my white b**h keep scats in her Uggs Poorly planned attacks fueled by Xanax Chopped off someone's hand with an ax, facts Now I'm only concerned with green Stay printing contracts out of Kinko's machines The competition are fiends, all they do is codeine and wear JNCO jeans Stone Cold, they Malenko, Dean Deficient in zinc, protein Can't see me, seen? YOD spotted like a coyote With your wife's p**y juices on my goatee Grody gag me with a spoon, aggy wasn't even noon And she had baggies in her poon Who is she? She's a valley girl Yo, the band straight throwing me the alley curl Then I yam it, it's nothing to get son to slam it My finishes at the rim run the gamut Like when's he gonna stop? Goddamnit Writing is like Shakespeare's It shakes peers, this my Hamlet Feel me? Top five, I'm all five [Part III: A$AP Ferg] Yeah, yeah, yeah Beautiful people let's take a second to think We continue these issues, the ship is drowning, we sink This is nothing political, this is so we be sync Sit together forever, we can weather the rain We can weather the storm, let's try to move on Build a better community so our children be norm Transform from arms and bombs like Vietnam Teach your kid how to eat, teach your kid how to farm Watch what you put in your body so we could live it long Mind, body, and soul intact, my n***as strong Rap ain't no lap, this more like a marathon This track ain't no track, just something I said it on Get life in harmony, put love in your arms Forgive to receive the blessing, the peace and calm This the product Malcolm X and Farrakhan Martin Luther and Marvin Gaye alter what ghettos are All my beautiful people, all my beautiful people I'm the ghetto apostle, come on, follow, I'll lead you Tell 'em put down the pipe, leave your bottles and needles Treat your family right, your mama is gonna need you Mama, auntie, and cousin, oh, she told you 'bout thugging? He ain't amount to nothing, he on top of that oven Selling d** on that corner as little n***as be drumming Blaka blaka, the bucking, they fittin' to hit you with something Check a n***a with hammers, they fittin' to open your bucket Popping your condom, pimp, and say nothing 'bout stunting You ain't talking nothing, and you ain't talking 'bout nothing Bullsh**, I'm the pope, I think I am onto something One hand power people, one hand power people White, purple, and yellow and all of my brown people We can be positive, don't let negativity k** you First up with your friends to move a whole town of people Hold up If you ain't 'bout progression then pick up a desert eagle, hold up If you ain't 'bout progression then pick up a desert eagle If you ain't 'bout progression then pick up a desert eagle Yeah, yeah, uh, come on Harlem World, come on New York, Harlem World, come on Yeah, yeah, uh Let's quit all the fun and games Let's talk about the world that come with the fame We all just people, who's to blame For the road to riches and diamond rings? I had a premonition me losing my Yamborghini Lean and ketamine took my man out of his beenie I wish we could've worked out, eat a bit of zuccini Traded that big bottle of Henny for the Fiji I was Alladin, he was a genie I love his momma, I be saddened when she seen me Who would've knew that the party would end wrong? Who would've knew Fergy Ferg would sing a sad song? Who would've knew A$AP would come this far? Who would've knew Yams' vision would make us all stars? The fame and access that k** us all You ever deal with a drug addict who was your boy? Who, when you talk to him, he keep nodding off ? Swear it sound like he was dying every time he snored Touchy subject, heart kind of sore I can't help it people, this I cannot ignore I gotta talk 'bout it, I gotta get it off Anybody with a problem with it made you n***as soft Yeah, anybody with a problem with it made you n***as soft R.I.P. A$AP Yams R.I.P. Capital Steez R.I.P. to Chinx Drugz A$AP, Ferg, New York, I'm out