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Lyrics

(C Gruber, K Quinnell)

Gimme my chance to tell my fucking tale
The Mob is off the charts, our skills are off the scale
My words are coming out, like little liquid drops
But don't give a fucking clue to the motherfucking cops
Converse is the only shoes that fit my fucking feet
Black and red Chucks for when I wanna look neat
Double XL shirts for the Double Deuce
Put on the aviators for when I visit Juice
Say "Hi" and "Hello" and maybe "Que pasa"
Come forth with a roar like you was Mufasa
Jump in the Sterling, let's all take a ride
Roll windows up tight, crank the A/C on the inside
Road tripping our way up the 95
On our way to see YT on our summer drive
Bump the Saints of Tribal Science in the stereo
I need it cold in the car, 'cause my legs is hairy, yo

I don't wanna make no copies of the shit I did befo'
I just want my work to stand on its own 'til 30 aught fo'

REX: You wanna see something cool, you wanna rock the joint?
If ya ain't bumping Cap City, what's the fucking point?
Hope ya paid attention to everything I've said
"I'll be careful." "You'll be dead!"
I came to drink some beer and to kick some ass
My rhymes are gonna blow up like a critical mass
Clap ya hands everybody,
And everybody clap ya hands
I came to work with the Mob
And maybe make ya dance
'Scuse while I push this part of the narrative
Chris Knight said it's a moral imperative
Six-foot-two as I knock down the door
I provide the muscle when it's time to make the score
I'm the Rex and wrecking's what I do
Welcome to the Terrordome, now I'm coming for you

It was a Friday night like any other, April was the month
We was up for anything, we could take on any stunt
My boys Rex and Random and myself the Maestro
Ready for Poker Night and it fo'-two-oh
Melle lit a fatty, passed it round and round the room
Dave made sure we got plenty, 'cause the joint was going boom
My head was feeling floaty, yeah, the evening getting good
This was my kind of Friday when we was in they neighborhood
Dizzle smoke a buttload, but not as much as me
Rex said "Hey, no thank you," but passed it, friendly as could be
While the room kept filling up with thickest, dankest smoke
The whole group listened to me as I told Eddie Murphy jokes
I was funnier than I'd been in a while, or so I thought
My throat was getting rough from the marijuana coughs
I know I couldn't drive, so I asked Rex to take the wheel
And the three of us went to the Compound to keep our recording deal

© 2007 Cap City Music