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Just plug me in just like I was Eddie Harris You're eating crazy cheese like you'd think I'm from Paris You know I get fly You think I get high You know that I'm gone and I'ma tell you all why
So tell me who are you dissing Maybe I'm missing The reason that you're smiling or wilding So listen in my head I just want to take 'em down Imagination set loose and I'm gonna shake 'em down
Let it flow like a mud slide When I get on I like to ride and glide I've got depth of perception in my text y'all I get props at my mention 'cause I vex y'All
So what'cha what'cha what'cha want (what'cha want) I get so funny with the money that you flaunt (you flaunt) I said where'd you get your information from huh? You think that you can front when revelation comes
(yeah, you can't front on that)
Well they call me Mike D, the ever loving man I'm like Spoonie Gee well I'm the metropolitician You scream and you holler About my Chevy Impala But the sweat is getting wet around the ring around your collar
But like a dream I'm flowing without no stopping Sweeter than a cherry pie with ready whip topping From mic to mic Kickin' It wall to wall Well I'll be calling out you people like a casting call
Well it's wack when you're jacked in the back of a ride With your know with your flow when you're out getting by Believe me What you see is what you get And you see me I'm coming off as you can bet
Well I think I'm losing my mind this time This time I'm losing my mind That's right, said I think I'm losing my mind this time This Time I'm Losing My Mind
(yeah, you can't front on that)
But little do you know about something that I talk about I'm tired of driving it's due time that I walk about But in the meantime, I'm wise to the demise Got eyes in the back of my head so I realize
Well I'm dr. Spock I'm here to rock y'all I want you off the wall if you're playing the wall I said what'cha what'cha what'cha want (said what'cha want) I said what'cha what'cha what'cha want (what'cha want)
Y'all suckers write me checks and then they bounce So I reach into my pocket for the fresh amount See I'm the long leaner, Vincent the cleaner I'm the illest motherfucker from here to gardena
Well I'm as cool as a cucumber in a bowl of hot sauce You've got the rhyme and reason but got no cause Well if you're hot to trot you think you're slicker than Grease I've got news, for you crews, you'll be sucking like a leach
(yeah, you can't front on that)
So what'cha what'cha what'cha want (so what'cha want) So what'cha what'cha what'cha want (so what'cha want) I said what'cha what'cha what'cha want (what'cha want) I said what'cha what'cha what'cha want (so what'cha want)