The Next Chapter - Rodney P

I sing songs to my son like, «Fuck the police»

Same time I’m tryin' to tell him, «Enough's as good as a feast

Let money be the least of your worries, just try to earn

Try to don’t go jail stuck beggin' man for burn»

I know, I just came home from out the pen'

I swear down I won’t be goin' there again

But that’s a maybe

I’m on the right track but most man slide back

Or get side-tracked because the lifestyle’s crazy

The weekend’s comin' and we’re wavy

And all the youths know now is, «Fuck you, pay me»

We can’t blame them 'cause that we teach the babies

And greed has been good from since the '80s

Gecko

Riddimkilla does it for the art

Decor

Test me, though, will let the ting bark

Hear the echo

Ra-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta

Start poppin' it off

The game’s done now, we’re lockin' it off

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Man, they say they’re gonna get rich or die tryin'

But they’re lyin'

'Cause they’re lazy and they’re gonna die broke

'Cause they don’t grind

And don’t read, they just believe in YouTube

How’s your seed supposed to believe in you, dude?

When you’ve forgotten that they put us on the bottom where it’s rotten

And the little that we’ve got is just a crumb still

Them man there jiggabooin', niggas act dumb still

But fuck what them niggas doin', I’ll be with the black folks

Strategizin' on mobilisin' the black vote

Or barbequin' and teachin' my son to backstroke

So when you’re gassed and you’re bruk, I’m like a slag with her fanny sewn shut

«I couldn’t give a fuck»

I don’t rhyme for the sake of riddlin'

Them piss-piddlin' rapper boy, dem they need kickin' in

So disinfect the mic they’re spittin' in and give them a little Ritalin

And tell them boys there, «Calm the fuck down»

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I don’t just rhyme with no reason

I’m livin' in the now, but know that now is just a season

Tryna milk the cow because the pickney need feedin'

But won’t spoil the child, if he’s wild, I’ma beat him

Yeah, I play to win, I’m a competitor

Tell me yute to let the spirit in and let it better ya

Better that you don’t pick up the ting and turn a predator

But real talk, I got the devil in me like America

'Cause I know what the dream is, I’ve seen it

Try to rob the lot like Jimmy Hoffa did the teamsters

Don’t take a genius to know these times

That you get nothin' for nothin' and everyone’s gotta grind, yeah

It’s the bass and the truth

I’m replacin' the loose lips of youth with the burden of proof

So we’re burnin' what them batty washers bring to the booth

We bun that 'cause them batty washers lie to the yutes

For real