The Future
[Verse 1: Guilty Simpson]
I got a cousin that plays for the Utah Jazz
But I don't have to run the two to shoot y'all ass
Peace to Ronnie Brewer, on the mic I'm the manure
Got a Ruger for the coward tryna hate on the computer
Mad because my power made him say that I'm the future
Or maybe cause I taught they baby mama Kama Sutra
Since then, I'm feelin' like I must be on parole
I told her I was Guilty, she put me in the hole
I put her on exhibit, then I put her on the stroll
She makes a bigger bankroll than bitches on the pole
I clap for the cause, I scrap for my dawgs
Imagine Mayweather with a Mac in his drawers! (BRAT!)
A daily combo, I'm the Head Honcho
All about my doe, fuck casual convo
Unless you talkin' 'bout that bread, then you ain't really talkin' fam
Nuff said
[Hook: Guilty Simpson]
The future... the future... I'm... I'm... the future!
The future... I'm... I'm... I'm the future!
The future... I'm... I'm... I'm the future!
[Verse 2: MED]
Unh, let the games begin
I'm from the OX, but don't got bulbous chin(?)
Nah we hot, we somethin' like ash wind
Has-beens, quick to get peeled like, dead skin
If two clips of five want to act big
Washing ten off the mac, like Red Skins
Set trends, world wind
Rain, wind, and fire through mic wires, like X-men
Deep waters, still see the shark, fam
Tony Gywnn with the pen, not the park (?), nigga
Get used to the name, cause we ain't goin' nowhere like, Cranberry stains
Strawberry on my Blackberry page, bad with names cause of Raspberry haze
Street medley, so the thugs engage, and go heavy
That's plain that the future's ready
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Guilty Simpson]
Let me back at 'em... yo
I rap for the rugged hard heads that stack funds
I don't recommend it, but I choose to pack guns
In case my foes make good on the promise
To put me in the ground, I ain't always do it honest
El presidente, killers on the congress
You're mere mortals, the flow's monstrous
Get bound and gagged and beat unconscious
Shank in the mess hall, murderin' all convicts
My bloody hand solves all conflicts
Why talk, we can settle on some mob shit
Your swan dive when shit gets deep
At the bottom of the creek wearin' cement feet
What!