"Let's see you try the water technique! Hai! Ha, ha!
The sky is high, the cloud is low
But my water technique is hard to think
that the earth, can absorb water, hai! Hai!"
Yeah, word up, gotta zip my coat
"The sky is high, the cloud is low" (fuck him)
"But my water technique is hard to think" (yeah, check the live shit)
"that the earth, can absorb water, hai! Hai!"
What the fuck I got the moonshine, word to God let's get it on
Clap your heels two times, grab the magic wand
Nameless, these stonewashed cats leave him brainless
Showin out of this world, stranded on Uranus
With coke and a dollar bill stems and crack capsules
Take a blast fool but we trap up crews it's natural
like soybean, burn like a laser beam
My vaccine I shoot it firm and it connects like sideburns
The segment, rare fragment comes together
like magnets, attract heads capture like Dragnet
Going through mad phases, of all ages
Killa bee's locked the fuck up behind cages
The Genovese swallow this line and caught a freeze
Press call ID for me to quote more degrees
The fortune teller Tucker sleeping gas umbrella
A war where they're gunning in the back of Armanbella
Now who, don't believe that cash must rule
I don't eat beef, I slap blood out of Purdue
Keep a Wallace mic, mics on strike the session
It's over, I file this and glow like fluorescent
Yo yo, methods of blow like snow constant cash-flow
Rocking a Shaft Afro, Tony got mad glow
with hoes, mega powder dripping from they nose
Fucking Jet magazine bitches with, wild pussy pose
Send em for the whole night, daily venom horror snake bites
Only Built 4 Cuban Link kings who shoot dice
Holding money that's convertible, beds with feathered bags
With the mongoose your man's got two seeds down in Bagdad
You onion-head niggas spread out and parlay
Yo Rae these itch days get crashed with ash trays
I pull stings like, guitar strings down in Spain
I'm so hyped Jakes label God "crack cocaine"
Why Equality Self God, yeah yeah you know it kid
Ricki fucked up, and G-Pac, blow his wig
he's rocking Wu Wear, the latest in fleece uniform
He's a newborn, look at money swearing like he's on
But anyway back to furry kangols Jamaican wallabies
My back is on the wall, bombing devils with trick-knowledgy
My heart is cold like Russia, got jerked at The Source awards
Next year two hundred niggas coming with swords!
Written by DIGGS, ROBERT F. / COLES, DENNIS DAVID
Published by Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.