Been bearing this burden for too many of my days
But you ain't pimpin' no bitches
Something's gotta change
Get pissed enough to miss the bus
Something's gotta change
And rollin' yo' eyes back
Been bearing this burden for too many of my days
Stand with us and don't look back upon it
Seven-eleven is no convenience,
I grew up on booty shake we did not know no better thang
Conceive true deception multiplied a million fold
But runnin' up on me like you miss me
From the South we in the house tonight
Them hooks like sellin' dope to black folks
The resident evil specialize in misconstruing
Growing old
("Ninety-six gonna be that year")
Trees bright and green turn yellow brown
Like Mortal Kombat, but fuckin' these wombats got you dizzy
So keep that clean up out of your nose
A righteous number of righteous men
I'm thinkin' of checkin' my traps
Yeah
Visualize the yin and yang in a battle so intense
Otherwise Babylon
Sores that was open wounds eventually turn to scab
Like memories of yesterday
Been bearing this burden for too many of my days
I'm confessin' one mo' lesson
'Cause you flaw, in, fallin' like leaves into driveways
We roll through Headland and Delowe
Yeah
And rollin your Cadillac
Friday's are tight but Saturday just makes it old
When tonight's are hot warm enough to feed your soul
On fire like the Georgia mass choir we keep on sangin'
Where me and my niggaz surpassed the flow
I said my piece and then I hush
Autumn called 'em, see all them leaves must fall down, growin' old
Sounds of laughter and happiness turns my teardrops to rain
And got down for ours like hind catchers
Uhh, born Antwan Patton but my potnahs they call me Big Boi
My stomach can't digest it even when I bless it
Light and we ain't gon' stop until we hit the big screen
These crows you must be flawless
What I want but shot it with no shame
Oh like Liberty Bells yes them bullets keep on rangin'
So, we hit the stage and then we fly back to our nest
Sores that was open wounds eventually turn to scab
Fat titties turn to teardrops as fat ass turns to flab
But man it seems I'm reachin' out
("Ninety-six gonna be that year")
Trees bright and green turn yellow brown
Invest no level of self into their system of Paganomics
Bringin' our folks closer together
I say stand up on deception of time all of Revelations
And touchin' the wrong nigga
We fall for fights with fistcuffs
Looks like breezes of autumn done finally blew my way
And bustin' my raps and throwin' them craps
Jesus and His Twelve Disciples make thirteen
Fat titties turn to teardrops as fat ass turns to flab
You pumpin' your gas, they're watchin' yo' back
Thinkin' you got it, but get it get it
Gather your thoughts
Sounds of laughter and happiness turns my teardrops to rain
We can't babble no more than we can bob our head offbeat
Just face this mind state
So pissed to lather we come clean
Like some eagles, people don't understand
I bet you never heard of a playa with no game
See all them leaves must fall down, growin' old
'Cause they severed us from the get green
For the robbin' crew, thinkin' they robbin' you,
Autumn called 'em, see all them leaves must fall down, growin' old
Something's gotta change
And I choke when the food they serve ain't tastin' right
It's the nigga the B-I-G,
("Ninety-six gonna be that year")
I feel they disrespectin' the whole thang
While we ask no reason for the misplacement of the season
Foolin' ourself, clownin' ourself, playin' ourself
Now hootie who wants to oppose? Suppose
The Devil say the end is the beginning
Isn't it lovely smokin' good and sloppy head on highways
It disgusts me to see my folks run up on
Songwriters: R Bailey, Andre Benjamin, P Brown, Marqueze Ethridge, Raymon Ameer Murray, Antwan Patton, Rico Wade
Yeah, like that
Nimrod by the time we forty 'cause we can't get our meat
("Ninety-six gonna be that year")
("Ninety-six gonna be that year")
Looks like breezes of autumn done finally blew my way
Like memories of yesterday
As we bust, us, we leavin' 'em in the dust
Tainted as the mind who's blinded to the point
Sounds of laughter and happiness turns my teardrops to rain
("Ninety-six gonna be that year")
I'm speakin' about you playin'
Psych because no one is free when others are oppressed
Be speakin' the truth not talkin' that shit boi
You catchin' the wrong vibe, packin' yo' shit
With that phony stuff you sharin'
Don't expect me to be pimpin' get your index off the trigger
Look at the picture that's painted
Take this music dead serious while others entertain
They teach that we were the product of incest
("Ninety-six gonna be that year")
("Ninety-six gonna be that year")
Told the truth to get
Sores that was open wounds eventually turn to scab
Started by Afrikan Bambaata, so you and your potnah
Sounds of laughter and happiness turns my teardrops to rain
Even Judas the Betrayer came true in the end
In your raps Mercedes Benz and all your riches
Fat titties turn to teardrops as fat ass turns to flab
To stand up on yo' game and pimpin'
The Southern slang, finger waves and Mojo chicken wangs
Growing old
As the candidate keeps flippin', niggaz dippin'
And recognize this mind on the reality of horror known as mankind
While my close niggaz laugh at
Like memories of yesterday
Looks like breezes of autumn done finally blew my way
My nigga you know of I wanna be playin'
Trees bright and green turn yellow brown
My mind catches flashbacks to the black past
Some issues need to be addressed like envelopes I mean
Where Sodomites get all the rights
So go 'head and, diss it, while real hop-hippers listen
Been bearing this burden for too many of my days
("Ninety-six gonna be that year")
("Ninety-six gonna be that year")
I really be love it we are gathered to life
So I guess I can't complain or can I?
Just like their parents don't be carin'
Like memories of yesterday
Something's gotta change
By not bein' ourself
I see they makin' they paper
We wanna be at a Presidential level, what are we doing?
Flexin' up on the corner tossin' your dice
Autumn called 'em, see all them leaves must fall down, growin' old
My memories of yesterday
That we get 'em confused
You must be cautious
("Ninety-six gonna be that year")
Yeah
Publishers: HITCO MUSIC, ORGANIZED NOIZE MUSIC
Looks like breezes of autumn done finally blew my way