Kool Keith - Plastic World Lyrics
Yeah, kool keith should keep it realHe should rap about space and mars...[kool keith]Yo, Im tired of looking at everybody. same boots, skully hats in90 degree weather, looking to get into clubs for free. Im notSmoking blunts, or looking for jazz records at the roosevelt.I left new york, the city itself was stress depressionHigh boots and urban beats, that wasnt my directionProducers filtering join in with r&bA million rappers, some clones trying to sound like meBiting my space styles, biting my horror-coreAll I saw was kool keiths on my thawRecord companies had gd-off all my royaltiesWatching vinyl spin, local groups wack mcsSome try to rap with that perpetrate mobster crapKarl kani jeans, fat stomachs in the limosinesMixtapes by wack djs adds doo doo playIm on the turnpike, the city drifting down the highwayLike a mirage, the style there is all illusionOn videos out of town, peoples buy confusionRolling high with cash pulled over down my eyeSince Ive been out, yall cant seeChorus:Is the world made of plastic?Is the city buried in dreams? (yeah)Is the world made of plastic?Cause thats the way is seems (owww)Watching tv so bored, while imbiciles hold the mic cordGraffiti playgrounds are played out, yo howd that sound?Army fatigues are weak, is for the minor leaguesNo rapping cyphers or brothers in the rented benzCrews on stage, acting hard with a thousand friendsI saw the place turn plastic, crackers looping beatsPeople with no deals, walkmen rappin on the streetsI turned my back, 90% of the city sounded wackPayola scams switched djs like a rubber bandEverybody clear with beats trying to be premierClearing samples, your sp-12 fake examplesMy money grows with green from my own labelWhile you act rich with no cash on the bigger labelYour tri-state ways are shut down by barricadesIn fact I packed my bags, and listened to e-40Mac mall, c-bo, and other rappers you dont knowYoure narrow-minded and styles of mind you wont find itMy sound proceeds with moog and undertone bassNo comic gimmicks with beats rapping in my faceI come back real, solid rock razor steelTap your program, show the world Im the manYou copy poppa large, the industry is largeChorus x2As I do see sorta rugged wack beer commercialsSome rappers are bought and puppeteered like the ninja turtlesFrom manhattan I heat up, yo light up times squareI make noise like open high hats on your cheap snareNo promotional shows, girls wear corn rowsPeople with hooded sweaters on crack keep me on my toesI walk with straw hats, fake glasses in the projectsBring my ghost image so tense on the line of scrimmagePlaying my numbers, waiting for the five to comeSpaghetti out the window, people acting dumbFire hazards wake the neighbors, your familys nosyI come and go as I please on blockhead mcsYou bought new sneakers, no car, scrambling on the cornerIm not the star you are, the citys fallen farBy mechanism, youre on my tipStay off my penis, youve duplicated me for yearsYeah, yeah, yeah, you are the oneChorus x2
