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Текст песни Kool Keith - Plastic World

Kool Keith - Plastic World слова песни

"Yeah, Kool Keith should keep it real He should rap about space and Mars..."[Kool Keith]Yo, I`m tired of looking at everybody. Same boots, skully hats in90 degree weather, looking to get into clubs for free. I`m 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 wasn`t 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 G`d-off all my royaltiesWatching vinyl spin, local groups` wack MC`sSome try to rap with that perpetrate mobster crapKarl Kani jeans, fat stomachs in the limosinesMixtapes by wack DJ`s adds doo doo playI`m 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 I`ve been out, y`all can`t seeChorus: Is the world made of plastic? Is the city buried in dreams? (Yeah) Is the world made of plastic? Cause that`s the way is seems (Owww)Watching TV so bored, while imbiciles hold the mic cordGraffiti playgrounds are played out, yo how`d 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 DJ`s 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 don`t knowYou`re narrow-minded and styles of mind you won`t 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 I`m 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 family`s nosyI come and go as I please on blockhead MC`sYou bought new sneakers, no car, scrambling on the cornerI`m not the star you are, the city`s fallen farBy mechanism, you`re on my tipStay off my penis, you`ve duplicated me for yearsYeah, yeah, yeah, you are the oneChorus x2

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