Cat Stevens: Wailin

In the zone like Keyser Soze, always the Usual Suspect No check, all I got in this game is my respect and Southern pride I be, checkin my fuckin head Scared, lookin up in your face, boi I see dead If you test like SAT, then I guess that we may be, enemies In the P's freestyles be freebies I be that wrong nigga to fuck with, wouldn't I Wouldn't I be the wrong one to try, never eating chicken thighs Only the twenty piece mojo, flow zone like Flo Jo I wanted to figure out, just how low could yo' hoe go The beat hit like Beat Street, Krush Groove and Breakin Never bakin, rebukin Satan, we had you waitin For the Second Coming funny how time flies when you're rhymin La-Fa-Ce records, I think they got that perfect timin to be doper than Sadaam believe the Nation of Islam Fuck the police and the dogs, sniffin that dope up out your car I think they overstep they boundaries O.J., not guilty, that's how they found he I felt the pressure like sun shinin, while raining at the same time I kept on rhymin, not complainin Storm bringing cats and dogs my catalog be the size of golf balls Throw up your Daisy Dukes I'm Hazzard-ous to all you Boss Hoggs And Roscoe P. Col' people, who could boost my locomotive But enough of that everyone can rap unless they ain't supposed ta I use my gift of gab to boast and brag in every rhyme I compose won't y'all get sick of that, cause I know I do when I hear those Flows that ain't hip-hop, you find that shit in the gift shop But to each his own, my speech is gon', keep that shit up outta my zone Long as you happy then I'm happy Even if you just hate my fuckin guts go 'head and dap me Cause I'm gon' dap you anyway and then go home and pray for yo' ass later Cause we might need you in this war I'm wailin on you traitors Like that...