The Return of the G
It's the return of the gangsta thanks ta'
Them nikkas that's on that blow
that run up in yo' crib which contains
your lady and an 8 month old
child to raise plus you true blue 'bout this music but
they do not want to hear it because they'd
rather be bouncin' and shootin' and killin' and bouncin'
and shyt get down
Return of the gangsta thanks ta'
them nikkas that thank you soft
and say y'all be gospel rappin'
but they be steady clappin' when you talk about
bytches & switches & hoes & clothes & weed
let's talk about time travelin' rhyme javelin
somethin' mind unravelin' get down
Return of the gangsta thanks ta'
them nikkas who got them kids
who got enough to buy an ounce
but not enough to bounce them kids to the zoo
or to the park so they grow up in the dark never
seein' light so they end up being like yo' sorry ass
robbin' nikkas in broad ass daylight get down
Return of the gangsta thanks ta'
Them nikkas that get the wrong impression of expression
Then the question is Big Boi what's up with Andre?
Is he in a cult? Is he on drugs? Is he gay?
When y'all gon' break up? When y'all gon' wake up?
nikka I'm feelin' better than ever what's wrong with you?
You get down!
The Art of Storytelling 4
So I'm watching her fine ass walk to my bedroom
And thought to myself that's the shape of things to come
She said, "Why in the club, you don't make it precipate?
You know, make it rain when you could make it thunderstorm?"
I'm like, why? The world needs sun. The hood needs funds
There's a war going on and half the battle is guns
How dare I throw it on the floor
When people are poor
So I write like Edgar Allen to restore
Got a cord, umbilical, attached to a place that can't afford
No landscaping or window draping
This old lady told me if I ain't got nothing good, say nay-thing
That's why I don't talk much. I swear it don't cost much
To pay attention to me
I tell it like it is and then I tell it how it could be
The hood be requesting my services
Oh, don't get nervous it's
Step your game up time, these ain't them same old rhymes
Designed to have you dancing in some club
nikkas ride to me; women beat off in their tub
Exfoliating with their poms poms yelling, "Go 3000."
I'm in my whatever bumping nwa, 100 Miles and Runnin'
Runnin', Runnin', Runnin', Runnin'
Summon, woman, come in, sit down
Heard you need some plumbing
Done and I’m in a swell mood, a rather swole mood
Until she told me that she told dude
That she’ll be back, she’s going to the store
I didn’t know she had a boyfriend so the door
I pointed her to. I said, "Call me when y'all break up
I don’t fukk nobody's bytch and never owned a Jacob."
Know what time it is
nikka just trying to live like a nikka supposed to live
If I still drank that malt liquor, I’d pour the beer
On the ground for nikkas not around. I started off starving
Now they got me out here Brett Favre-ing
Trying see if I still got it; got it
I guess it’s like a bike. Think about it
Bout it, bout it