*On a stage I rage and I'm rollin'*
Well, it's the verbal Herman Munster
Some of you bum a few chairs from shock value
We tight like dreadlocks or red fox and ripple
We take it back to the days of yes y'all-in'
We holding onto what's golden
Hip Hop
We holding onto what's golden
A little change in the household name but ain't too much changed
We're not balling
I refrain from salt grains to season up my name
We're not balling
We're not balling, or shot calling
Steady aim, drum at your head to hit the brain
On any particular surface the pen lands on
We pass participles, and smash the artist in you
We holding onto what's golden
The taut taces be bringing these hot styles through
We in the game but, yo not to be vain
*On a stage I rage and I'm rollin'*
Your heart races as we pump you for your chart spaces
We stay true to the game and never bring it to shame
We're not balling
*On a stage I rage and I'm rollin'*
*On a stage I rage and I'm rollin'*
Yo
Melancholy mundane so I tame the hot flame
We still the same with a little fame
We take it back to the days of yes y'all-in'
We take it back to the days of yes y'all-in'
Music
*On a stage I rage and I'm rollin'*
Illustrate the paper space off the pens that paint
The camera stands on, what's the beef?
'Cause there ain't enough bars to hold the drama that we been through
No name, use fame, strictly new to the thang
We're not balling, or shot calling
We entertain for a mutual game from close range
We holding onto what's golden
Yo
Then design what have a National Geographic a magic
Word power can plow through acres of cornfields
We're not balling, or shot calling
We take it back to the days of yes y'all-in'
The word enhancer, sick of phony mobsters controllin' the dance floor
Big rings, fat chains, and y'all quest for the same
With Taylor made status and plus favored is automatic
We holding onto what's golden
I drape off poetic landscapes and shapes
We take it back to the days of yes y'all-in'
The saga continues, this I won't get into
We holding onto what's golden
I'm labor ready, Rhode Scholar for the dollar
We take it back to the days of yes y'all-in'
Paragraphs cut like warm steel, preform ill
Work for mines pay me by the hour
The Cooley High cold chief high post techniques
I been in dark places, catch you when you stark naked
