Nosetalgia
20 plus years of selling Johnson & Johnson
I started out as a baby-faced monster
No wonder there's diaper rash on my conscience
My teething ring was numbed by the nonsense
Gem Star razor and a dinner plate
Arm and hammer and a mason jar, that's my dinner date
Then crack the window in the kitchen, let it ventilate
'Cause I let it sizzle on the stove like a minute steak
Nigga, I was crack in the school zone
Two beepers on me, Starter jacket that was two toned
Four lockers, four different bitches got their mule on
Black Ferris Bueller, cutting school with his jewels on
Couldn't do wrong with a chest full of chains and a arm full of watches
What I sell for pain in the hood, I'm a doctor
Zhivago, tried to fight the urge like Ivan Drago
If he dies he dies, like Doughboy to Tre
If he rides he rides, throwing punches in his room
If he cries he cries, we don't drink away the pain
When a nigga die we add a link to the chain
Inscribe a nigga name in your flesh
We playing on a higher game of chess
Once you delegate his bills who gone fuck his bitch the best?
A million megapixels of the Pyrex
Started on the scale digital, my only Timex
Nigga, this is timeless, simply 'cause it's honest
Pure as the fumes that be fucking with my sinus
Nigga this is Simon says, Simon red
Blood on your diamonds 'til you dying, dead
You better change what comes out your speaker
You better change, ch-ch-change
Dee-dee-dee, dah-dee, dah-dee, dee-dee, dah-dee, day-ah (What is it?)
You wanna see a dead body?
Instrumentals from my mama's Christmas party
Trouble's on my mind, I still smell crime
My little brother crying
Smokers repeatedly buying my Sega Genesis
Either that or my auntie was stealing it
Hit the pipe and start feeling it
Oh wee, cut me some slack, weed never did that
This was different, geez, Louise please help me relax
Quantum physics could never show you the world I was in
When I was ten
Back when nine ounces had got you ten
And nine times out of ten, niggas don't pay attention
And when there's tension in the air, nines come with extensions
My daddy dumped a quarter piece to a four and a half
Took a L, started selling soap fiends bubble bath
Broke his nails misusing his pinky to treat his nose
Shirt buttoned open, taco meat laying on his gold
I said, "Daddy, one day I'ma get you right with 36 zips"
"One thousand grams of cocaine then your name will be rich"
"Now you can rock it up or sell it soft as leather interior"
"Drop some ice cubes in it, Deebo on perimeter"
He said "Son, how come you think you be my connect?"
I said "Pops, your ass is washed up with all due respect"
He said "Well nigga, then show me how it all makes sense"
Go figure, motherfucker, every verse is a brick
Your son dope, nigga
Now reap what you sowed, nigga
(Please reap what you sowed, nigga)
I was born in '87, my grand daddy a legend
Now the same shit that y'all was smoking is my profession
Let's get it
You better change what comes out your speaker
You better change ch-change, ch-change, ch-change, cha-ange
You better change what comes out your speaker
Th-Th-Th-Th-They must be on the dick of who?
Th-Th-Th-Th-They must be on the dick of who?
I started out as a baby-faced monster
No wonder there's diaper rash on my conscience
My teething ring was numbed by the nonsense
Gem Star razor and a dinner plate
Arm and hammer and a mason jar, that's my dinner date
Then crack the window in the kitchen, let it ventilate
'Cause I let it sizzle on the stove like a minute steak
Nigga, I was crack in the school zone
Two beepers on me, Starter jacket that was two toned
Four lockers, four different bitches got their mule on
Black Ferris Bueller, cutting school with his jewels on
Couldn't do wrong with a chest full of chains and a arm full of watches
What I sell for pain in the hood, I'm a doctor
Zhivago, tried to fight the urge like Ivan Drago
If he dies he dies, like Doughboy to Tre
If he rides he rides, throwing punches in his room
If he cries he cries, we don't drink away the pain
When a nigga die we add a link to the chain
Inscribe a nigga name in your flesh
We playing on a higher game of chess
Once you delegate his bills who gone fuck his bitch the best?
A million megapixels of the Pyrex
Started on the scale digital, my only Timex
Nigga, this is timeless, simply 'cause it's honest
Pure as the fumes that be fucking with my sinus
Nigga this is Simon says, Simon red
Blood on your diamonds 'til you dying, dead
You better change what comes out your speaker
You better change, ch-ch-change
Dee-dee-dee, dah-dee, dah-dee, dee-dee, dah-dee, day-ah (What is it?)
You wanna see a dead body?
Instrumentals from my mama's Christmas party
Trouble's on my mind, I still smell crime
My little brother crying
Smokers repeatedly buying my Sega Genesis
Either that or my auntie was stealing it
Hit the pipe and start feeling it
Oh wee, cut me some slack, weed never did that
This was different, geez, Louise please help me relax
Quantum physics could never show you the world I was in
When I was ten
Back when nine ounces had got you ten
And nine times out of ten, niggas don't pay attention
And when there's tension in the air, nines come with extensions
My daddy dumped a quarter piece to a four and a half
Took a L, started selling soap fiends bubble bath
Broke his nails misusing his pinky to treat his nose
Shirt buttoned open, taco meat laying on his gold
I said, "Daddy, one day I'ma get you right with 36 zips"
"One thousand grams of cocaine then your name will be rich"
"Now you can rock it up or sell it soft as leather interior"
"Drop some ice cubes in it, Deebo on perimeter"
He said "Son, how come you think you be my connect?"
I said "Pops, your ass is washed up with all due respect"
He said "Well nigga, then show me how it all makes sense"
Go figure, motherfucker, every verse is a brick
Your son dope, nigga
Now reap what you sowed, nigga
(Please reap what you sowed, nigga)
I was born in '87, my grand daddy a legend
Now the same shit that y'all was smoking is my profession
Let's get it
You better change what comes out your speaker
You better change ch-change, ch-change, ch-change, cha-ange
You better change what comes out your speaker
Th-Th-Th-Th-They must be on the dick of who?
Th-Th-Th-Th-They must be on the dick of who?
Credits
Writer(s): Rennard L. East, Terrence Thornton, Homer Banks, Anthony C. Khan, Raymond E. Jackson, Kanye Omari West, Kendrick Duckworth, Lawrence Krsone Parker, Scott Monroe Sterling, Carl Mitchell Hampton, Dominick Lamb
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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