No Main Topic

Lyrics

[Intro: O & E] Yo, O, pick up the phone, it's E Yo, yo, what up, E? What up? Yo, what's going on, kid? Chilling, man, what's going on with you? Yo, you heard the O.C. shit? Yeah, yeah, that shit is flavor, kid. What's the word? Yo, yo Yo Man, yo, well, talk to you later, man [Verse: O.C.] Uh I never ran from a man unless Glock get cocked in my face I dash before the *gunshot* Dissed the sister 'cause she didn't like ya, mister Bust your ego on down like a blister The party was packed In fact black ladies with back were stacked inside of the place like flapjacks First of all, what you call hardcore? Who's hardcore? I gets grit in your teeth and lock in your jaw Mess hall is filled with crooks and criminals Ill type of characters giving up ill subliminals Get nostalgia from a rhyme that I wrote long time ago Found this place, I figured "Who would know?" The body's a poem, talking 'bout the mind more powerful than anything known to mankind My flight has begun, stand clear of the runway The only way I see you killing me is with gunplay In many ways and more peeps die in the raw Flip the word around, now "raw" spells "war" Never could I kill a man to fill a void of prosperous life He gets burnt like phosphorus Crooked your face from the slap of my base in your grill piece You're the lamb I took fleece from You underestimate the quest of fate Destined for a date with O.C. the Great, ha Ruling benevolence over a girl named Evelyn Getting woman to succeed in my field of medicine Fuck the ones who adjourned my concern with all-out conceit I cop the Ogee beats Balance, not bullets, the world is already full of nonsense So I'll contribute to your conscience O (Yeah?), raise up the kicks (Hmm), pop back in the disc Make it feel as though the slapping of a fist Flip verses, skip curses, dodge hearses Collect fat purses, stay surface above the dead planet Earth of granite A thousand emcees of my sex is satanic I'm sticking to my comments, never rap nonsense The metaphoric title of my table of contents is logic No such thing as modern, out and achieve But some are still deadweight, rock-bottom Talking shhh, sparking for nothing Barking up the wrong damn tree, homie, slice cold-bluffing Alas, ain't nothing mashing just for fashion What's the object? It's, like, no main topic [Outro: Prince Po] No doubt, baby pop We do it like this, uh, nonstop One time we gotta rock O.C. for the '94 flavor We do it like this, sending your whole career to the grave One time for your mind Going back to the lyrics with no tricks Uplifting your spirits with no gimmicks We do it just like this one time, uh The sess is in effect, we do it like this Prince Po'll catch wreck one time With no main topic... I'll break it down like that