I wanna live like Arnold, Willis and Mr. Drummond…
And keep my paper sturdy, big birds and tight herbs.
Wouldn’t it be nice if life was sort of like a dream,
And everything wasn’t really what it seemed?
What if everything you ever wished for was in reach,
And you could learn everything your school didn’t teach?
Wouldn’t it be nice if the banks didn’t fuck up the loans,
And people ain’t have to move out they homes?
With no GM or AIG…and for that matter no cancer or A-I-D?
The passion of Pac, the depth of Nas, circa 9-3,
Mix the mind of Brad Jordan and Chuck D and find me.
I spit with the diction of Malcolm or say a Bun B,
Prevail through Hell, so Satan get ye behind me.
Bitch, I’m coming live from the trunk and I thrive on the funk;
Cause I’d rather die like a man than survive like a punk.