Talib Kweli & John Robinson & Mr. Metaphor & & & Wiseguy (Rap)
Word A’ Mouth
Will Tell & Brooklyn Academy
Will Tell & Brooklyn Academy
Brooklyn Academy
Skeme Team & Brooklyn Academy
Will Tell & Word A’ Mouth
Brooklyn Academy & Thirstin Howl III
Will Tell & Word A’ Mouth & Thirstin Howl III
Brooklyn Academy & Thirstin Howl III
Brooklyn Academy & Block McCloud & Jean Grae & Pumpkinhead
Brooklyn Academy
Brooklyn Academy
Will Tell & Brooklyn Academy
Eddie Ill & D.L. & Str8 Paper & Block McCloud & Mr. Metaphor & Pumpkinhead
Eddie Ill & D.L. & Str8 Paper & Bishop & Block McCloud & Mr. Metaphor & Pumpkinhead & Will Tell
Will Tell & Brooklyn Academy
Skeme Team & Brooklyn Academy
Brooklyn Academy & Bishop
[Verse One: Block McCloud]
I made money, hungry, my stomach’s in knots
Head’s full of rocks, I’m shot see me running from cops
Almost got knocked on some dumb shit, coming from the spot
I’m Block, refuse to act like something I’m not
I fiend to see the green like I’m Bill Bixby
Style shifty, skills filthy
Surprised my ho’s still with me
That’s me, she dig the fact that I’m nasty
Brooklyn Ac' never went to class but we classy
Not a patsy, the silent type to let the gat speak
She’ll stick with me, unless she catch me with the next fat freak
Born ready
You get torn by my machete
Silent, calm and deadly medley
Like Tom I’m Petty
You’ll die for five bucks
Why? Cause life sucks and I don’t give a fuck
I’ll take that five bucks and live it up
Down some Thunderbird, wild out like I’m fucking disturbed
The robber herd, stepping to Block you got a lot of nerve
[Verse Three: Mr. Metaphor]
I take the time out of day, stash an hour away
Use about five minutes to devour my plate (Right)
Forty five more just collecting my pay (Tell ‘em)
Tell more minutes, put the check in the bank (Get it!)
A lot of kids lack respect, they neglecting to thank
The cats that put 'em on, the people representing this thing
I’m trying to step in the ring
I want the head of the king
I want his crown and his jewels and his neck in a sling
I want everything
I want sex in a drink
I want a Lex and a link
I want a section to think
And for my moms I want a dress and a mink
A mansion, a yacht
A double dishwasher, no more mess in the sink
What I project in a blink of an eye you couldn’t wink
And when I rise I’m rising high to the sky, you gon’ sink
And if I smell it’s the weed son, take a bath you stink
And don’t ask me no advice you better off asking a shrink
[Hook]
If we scheme on your crew
You couldn’t tell lies from the truth
There ain’t nothing you can do
You can watch your back, sleep with one eye open on the track
There ain’t nothing you can do
I won’t lose no sleep, don’t snooze when I creep cause for real
There ain’t nothing you can do
I can warn you, inform you that I’m upon you
Still there ain’t nothing you can do
[Verse Three: Jean Grae]
Yo, I’ve been slept on for years
Crept through Hell to get on
It’s straight drama when I’m lighting a song
I burn the steel off the mic and melt it down, rock it as fronts
And roll l’s in DAT labels when I’m smoking the blunts
Jean motherfuckers, told y'all
Ain’t quitting, spitting butane, flames shooting out the mouth
Bouncing when I’m down south
Repping when I’m east coast
Throw it when I’m west side
Toasting when I’m mid west, packing shit, Columbine
Poison ivy, fucking with niggas just a hobby
Deadly and proudly
When I’m shining y'all want to rob me
Niggas rock Timbs, dirty jeans baggy, fam rowdy
All day still doubt me, run your mouth, talk about me
What?
[Verse Four: Pumpkinhead]
Skeme Team one and only
I weigh about 210 so don’t trust me
As far as you can throw me
We gonna be the first underground cats
With platinum trophies
Up in Fat Beats, sportin' rollies
Puffin' stogies, bummin' in sweatpants
And shirts that’s holey
Like, “Bitch, blow me!”
Ya’ll can’t hold me
Ya’ll gon' nod ya head like a dope fiend
We shine, till ya’ll blind like smoke screen
We on the midnight run, Like DJ Enuff
Extra-large like Stretch
Drop bombs like Flex
Ice my arm and my neck
And still have your respect
Still winnin' battles
So write out a check
To yours truly, me, Capital P
Stashin' the heat right beneath the passenger seat
Robbin' niggas for they Grammys so don’t act like it’s sweet
Skeme Team pushin' tracks like crack on the street
[Hook x2]
Nuthin’ U Could Do was produced by Block McCloud.
Brooklyn Academy released Nuthin’ U Could Do on Mon Jan 01 2001.