Moneyball

[Intro - Bizzy Bone]
"...trust and believe. Oh, my purple homie? (whistles) He keep a turban on."

[Verse 1 - Kool A.D]
Cashing in chips, dining and dashing and shit
Minding a mansion, shiny, diamonds and ashes and shit
My goals blow in the shells and live hells and heavens for generations at a time, and climb
To the next host, the fresh toast, the heat electrical
Too hectical, half-ro-futurist, astro-truthfulness
Young Fidel Cashflow, using this
Music as whatever I really need to use it as
Use it as shoes on Shabazz Palace floors
That we grew callouses upon once, an old tome I did once
In a cold road, the kid jumps
I mean, a cold room, the kid jumps
The walls and sees all the ill desert creatures and devils beyond that
I reach beyond raps
But it's still rap though, it's just that though
But if they bust then I'll bust back though
Regardless, any situation, I'm hard as...
A motherfucker, come on, fight me, yeah
Nah wait, but do you like me though?
Shit, hold up, hold up... you ready? Check it out, yo
The revealer, handicap favors the dealer
The hand that feeds, um, favors the overeater
Cops wanna kick you like a bill to hand over your heater
Schools demand overachievers abandon the beliefs of their families and leave them stranded
In bland soliloquies of snitches who would call their fam Philistines, nigga please
Funny, hella books on ecology be killing trees
Ends is the ends, but the means is still the means
And shit, my jeans were probably made up in the Philippines
By a little kid who would kill to live as ill as me or some shit
Man, I'm dumb, I don't read enough
Some don't eat enough, food should be free, what up?
It used to be, when it was growing on the trees and stuff

[Outro - Kool A.D.]
I'm an idiot, what's up?
I'm an idiot, what's up?