No Idea’s Original

Lyrics

[Intro] Uhh, uhh Uhhh, uhhh, uhhh [Chorus] No idea's original, there's nothing new under the sun It's never what you do, but how it's done What you base your happiness around? Material, women, and large paper That means you inferior, not major No idea's original, there's nothing new under the sun It's never what you do, but how it's done What you base your happiness around? Material, women, and large paper That means you inferior, not major [Verse] If niggas could look inside my mind, you'll find Where bodies are buried, first look past the hotties who dimes Go to the center, enter with caution, past the brain cell graveyard Where weed's responsible for memory loss Let's witness the horrific, the stench'll make you nauseous See what I seen every day, I live with this torture Lightin' spliffs up to stay high like 24 hours Sleep with my heat, wash with my gun in the shower My tongue is power, it thrills women, kills demons Long as I'm still breathin', I'm still winnin', I'll teach 'em The hood converted from trey bags to 20's of girl Everybody had money, every summer was real ill Four-finger rings, dope dealers, 'caine/Kane "No Half Steppin'" with flat tops, when Rakim reigned Radios on card tables, Benetton, the Gods buildin' Ask for today's Mathematics, we Allah's children And this was goin' on in every New York ghetto Kids listened, Five Percenters said there's pork in Jell-O We coincide, we in the same life, maybe a time difference On a different coast, but we share the same sunlight Your part of the world might be like colors and gangs While on my side, brothers'll murder for different things But it all revolve around drugs, fame, and shorties Stuck for your bling, stripped for your chain, the same story From Czechoslovakia to Texas metropolis Them treacherous rastas and the Mexican mafias Be scrappin' with tats on their back, violent wars Nothin' less than a lethal injection if ever caught Courtrooms, eagles and flags, American style While in our world, the ghetto stays incredibly foul Watchin' for paint chips, don't want no lead in your child But them gangstas put lead in your child, the bezzy be out The chain be like a hundred K Shinin' since Roxanne Shante' made "Runaway" – that's been a minute Genesis is deep, my features are that of a God It's not a facade, it's a fact, these rappers wanna be Nas My Exodus doesn't exist, I'll never leave the streets, it's all in my mind Even with sleep, I'm duckin' nines in my dreams Si-rens, wide awake, why'd I think it would change? Can't hide when you famous, or even try to do the same things Like, somebody's always watchin' My life before I walk out the door, I size up every option Eyes cut every direction, it's like God or guns Which is better protection? Can't decide, that's a hard one I mean they wanna see me in prison, the chains bamboozled Headline readin' "Rapper Slain From a Man Shootin'"