This for all those fake ass folk singers out there
talking about how much money they got
how many banjos they play
coming up on my tv and in my radio
telling me all about their life and how fat and large they livin
well i got a song for you, cause that aint the life that im livin
i dont know nothin about that life...
I AM BROKE. ive got nothin to show for a wasted nights up writin blood on the banjo
my haydays waste away, lord knows fridays come and go with no pay day
Mayday, is it the first or rayday, i spent the whole day dodging my landlady
selling out shows from Philly to So-ho
with girlies in front row who know how all my songs go
you'd never know it by lookin at me though
still rocking the ripped jeans, the thrift tees, the bo-bo's
Lord knows hobos got better clothes, but nobodys got more soul or mojo
occasionally breaking the nose of those who dont know im no joke and im no glass joe
so if you wanted my hook, buddy here it goes
hold your nose, it's medicine time, my story goes:
the return of the incredible-edible freak MC, the lyrical miracle, thats what they call me. believe, i've got the mind to rock rhymes for lifetime
i've got no cheese, to buy my trees
no dough to blow on kilos of yayo
No hoes, no bling, no videos, no shiny things, bankrolled rings no cash flow
Im living on things like ring dings and ho-hos. Drinking ying-ling and chain smokin marlboros
I've got enough dough to get drunk though
and pour some out for the rat pack- ring a ding ding ya know?
Got the ghetto booze and weed
Im so broke i cant get enough of these
Im a tough act to follow but an easy man to please, so lord wont you buy me that SUV
But the lord only helps those who help themselves
so dont mind me if i do, help myself to your top shelf
OH! Nana! Oh no no, no no no... Woah oh! Ohhhh!!
Step on stage and the whole world fades to black
Got my ying-ling and six strings strapped
I give the microphone a check- hollas and claps
now everybody in the place from the front to the back is feelin all right
theres no stopping tonight. we got that Bri-style poppin in the place tonight
we got the sound booth on lockdown tonight
so give me some space, give me a beat, and give me that mic
twelve bars on an old guitar, i'll give ya old shit with a new twist
and be like right before the part thats like sometimes i gotta go double time to make all the rhymes in my flow fit
the riddlin kid has done it again, with the strength of ten men and the power of zen!
i've got your girlfriend, lickin her lips again
ready to leave the one shes with, and start a new relationship with...
see? Come on! nanananow