(Intro)
Listen, you might learn some
Jahlil Beats, holla at me
Jadakiss where you been, where you at
This rap is wack
I want that old thing back
I want that old thing back
(Verse 1 – Jadakiss)
Some ni**as tell a lot, some ni**as sell a lot
Some ni**as used to be mad nice, then fell a lot
Albums still trash I don’t care who the hell you got
Portraying the role of a G, we can tell you not
Sorry to bother you, I’m only doing what a father do
Your production is horrible, you’ll forever be a nerd
And your metaphors are better off, never being heard
I came in grinding, Puff made me shining
Put em both together, a protege of the 90’s
Grew up, put that bulls**t behind me
Started making ni**as demises untimely
Looking for me, come to the hood you can find me
Gucci belt right on the waist where the 9 be
38 right in the garbage, where the packs at
M1 right in the trunk, where the jacks at
Whoever is in arm length will get backslapped
Cause I ain’t playing with these rap cats
This is the flow you can’t learn
The dutch you can’t burn
Ni**a, I’ve got stripes you can’t earn
(Chorus – Jadakiss)
Method Man, where you been where you at
These rap ni**as is wack, I want that old thang back
Yeah, I want that old thang back
Yeah, I want that old thang back
(Verse 2 – Method Man)
You got the M.E, the M.E., the M.E., the M., M., M.,
The M.E.T.H.O.D. Man
Need a dopefiend track
Let me shoot up and lean back
With this needle stuck in my arm, never tuck in my charm
Most my team sling crack
If I hit every corner with G packs
Might cause the man DC to relapse
I’m a Hip hop junkies, who needs rap?
MC’s wack, Killerbees is back in the booth
Mind your beeswax
And f**k a style that you got
We blow a cap at any Energizer bunny right where his battery at
Look, the bastard child of Clarence Thomas and Reagonomics
On every 1st and 15th make sure you pay me homage
Might break a promise but never breaking the code
Got the floor safe, coke in the pot, fiend at the stove
Meth, rock a W on my clothes
I’m a straight rider, straight to the W with these hoes
I’m straight fire, these motherf**kers is froze
Like a skinny supermodel that like to powder her nose
(Chorus – Method Man)
Redman, where you been where you at
These rap nig**s is wack, I want that old thang back
I want that old thang back
I want that old thang back
(Verse 3 – Redman)
Dope boy, I’m like Rick James, I got that old thang
I got a gold chain, with gold frames
Doc doing the runnerman on Soul Train
With a chinese girl, the chicken get Lo Mein
Propane for the raw, I put her on the streets
My thoughts, the blue magic put on the beats
Game time, Doc rocket like Dominique
Straight vegetarian ni**a and ignore the beef
Yeah, Kyrie keep the blow smoking
Slide in the club, cool like the floor frozen
Check out the wild thang got a….loco
Big ass and high heels with the toes open
That’s me, 90’s MC
F**k a Grammy awards, underground is tax free
Look in the mirror I feel fantastic
The mirror said you are, you conceited bastard
(Chorus – Busta Rhymes)
Santana, where you been where you
These rap ni**as is wack, I want that old thang back
I want that old thang back
Tell em I want that old thang back
(Verse 4)
I came to bring the pain
Put ni**as to shame, simple and plain
They gon remember my name
And it’s all for respect not fame
So don’t play with me
You could give em rope, they still can’t hang with me
Pass the baton, they still can’t race with me
So far ahead of these ni**as they still chasing me
I wouldn’t be surprised if ni**as ghostwriters got ghostwriters
Nothing cease to amaze you
Labels used to care, even though they was raping me
Now it’s 360 deals, modern day slavery
F**k you pay me, I’m the one who calling
….or fame over fortune
The game done changed, the sound done changed
All these ni**as sound the same
The word loyalty don’t even sound the same
Good thing I keep the pound, when it bang it always sound the same
I aim at the game, the real shall remain
Neck full of water like I drowned my chain
Flier than a ni**a jumping out the plane
Higher than you ni**as, you can finally
Better than you ni**as that’s without me saying
Treat the money like the work, we don’t count we weight it
Aim it, blaze it, flame it shower head, you don’t want me spraying
Enough with the mumble jumble
Santana back though, can I get a drum roll?
Whole lotta kush and it’s stuffed in a fronto
Fiends still say my work taste like gumbo
Yeah, bring that old thang back
I was told to whip it up and bring the whole thang back
When I was….you was jumping rope
I was running out of bags, you was playing tag
While you was hop scotching, I was drop shopping
At the dealer paying cash for them paper tags
While you was pop locking, I was Glock popping
Getting to the cash, brown paper bags
Blowing money fast and it never last
Yeah, they make it fast, barely make it back
Haters gonna suffer, I’m okay with that
All this garbage, time to throw away the trash
