[Intro: Ill Ian]
Hush, back at it again, it's Ill Ian and Young G
Smoking blunts and busting raps on the M-I-C
Making hits in the 916
Making soundtracks for porno flicks
Yo G, man, it's Friday
What you gotta say? Bring that shit
[Verse 1]
Friday, a high day
Guess who's back on the mic, the way as always?
Young G's not on strike, the teamster who demeans words when they come out my mouth
Walk into my place, looking fly and smoked out
I got a little style, don't use it very often
Everything's floating back on that blunt smoke, coughing
Fold the gifts loose on occasion
You don't want to see me dreaming of invasion
Institutions equal will never leave my kids alone
God see my soul from a heavenly throne
Pathetic and sinning have no use for pity
Humans are like Truman, he's crowdеd in the city
Where thе competition existence of advertising of mental traps
All I'm trying to do is smoke blunts and bust raps
You might catch me dancing but it's rare romancing
Chances of the trance enhancing
All about the ecstasy, socializing strong
With my weed next to me and some blunts and a bong
I heard it's on blazing gun, catch me if you can
Life of a rider running through the world for which I give a damn
Superpower to devour protein for this muscle mass
Unless you're double covered, there's no reason not to pass
Double shots and tightened blunt, so I walk down the block
With the high loaded eye, can't figure out
Is time just a lie if you never really listen?
The night is always silent from the innocent of kisses
I could make you violent, take a different turn, now I'm lost again
The journey's been crazier once I realized I can't win
(Oh no...)
[Verse 2]
Out the 916 and you know we live good
Got that humble weed and tight ass food
Gotta keep fed cuz you know it's like that
Lifting weights, burning fat
Rolling down the streets smoking blunts, living raw
Who's the young rider you wish you never saw?
I gotta be polite sometimes
But I sure don't when it comes to these rhymes
So I got a little message for y'all rappers in the game:
You got to just peep what I'm saying
Gotta quote it from my boy outta B-Town
Told me the game a while ago, how we get down
So if you got a wack flow
Take a check from your boy outta Sacto
And it goes like this:
All you old players reminisce
[Hook]
It's mostly the voice that gets you up
And mostly the voice that makes you buck
A lotta rappers got flavor and some got skill
But if your voice ain't dope, then you need to chill
[Verse 3]
Tired and devoured, exchanged and deranged
For the dead who were not cowards, everything's arranged
Dead bliss risen in an early morn
Life grabs a kiss of fear forlorn
Scoring my insight for its meaningless love
Warm my hope inside the 10 of Clubs
Tug at my heartstrings, see inside divinity
Randomness chance happens, divinity is with me
A trip to the sea, dreams of fantasy
Romance as I hope is a dead ideal, infinity
Is the time / space continuum we're meant to enjoy
Then we were taught the path despair we destroy
Forgiveness begs of experience
Ideas kept in modesty and weariness
This clearly is the twist that keeps the world turning
You could say that it's money, but that simply is human journey
This planet could survive without our economy
Inside various traps of Illuminati
Plots and treaties, greetings of a new life
Alcohol for sex at night, caffeine to stay polite
And on task, action is impending
Regrets and frustrations defending
