[Intro: Proof]
Niggaz got the smells-ies, the smelt-isms {*chuckles*}
Aiyyo, nigga I do shit you can't do nigga, just know that
Aiyyo put me on blast from the top of this joint, I got you
Dooooo what I do y'all (yes, yes, yes yes, yes yes, yes yes y'all)
Goooood bless my tonnnnngue (yes, yes, yes yes y'all, sayin yes yes y'all!)
It'sssss not too laaaaate (yo yes yes y'all, sayin yes yes y'all!)
To bring it poppin to my city (sayin yes yes y'all)
{?}, I love my city (yes yes y'all, yes yes y'all!)
[Proof]
What does a mic and beat mean to me? It's more than just greenery
It's not what I dreamed it be, it's avarage with thievery
Easily I was sucked in, by these labels that fucked me
Over and over again tryin to hold to your publishin
It's not what you think it is, imagine a stinkin kid
Feenin for a dream and snap, in a blink it is
Before your eyes you, and all your guys did
The toilet rise, who shit? Your wallet died
You in love with this hip-hop, you don't where the shit stop
But then the shit stop and you overflow when you get dropped
It's back to the street again, search for the beat again
Find the love and get a piece of paper, I need a pen
This is the essence man, for me and my blessed friends
Although we go separate ends, Proof got his second wind
But hate what I become, feel the venom in my tongue
But I can find myself by the rhythm of the drum
[Chorus: Chino XL] + (Proof)
(It's the beats) The beats (the rhymes) the rhymes
(The mic) The mic (we shine) we shine
(It's yours) It's yours (it's mine) it's mine
It's our time, y'all niggaz get back in line
It's the beats (it's the beats) the rhymes (the rhymes)
The mic (it's the mic) we shine (we shine)
It's yours (it's yours) it's mine (it's mine)
It's our time (it's our time, y'all niggaz get back in line) what?
[Chino XL]
Uhh, uh-uh-uh uhh, yeah, yo, yo
(Been in the game before the game was even a game)
Question, yo, yo
Is it okay if The Neptunes didn't produce me? (yes)
Is it okay if I pour my heart out over loose-leaf? (yes)
Is it okay wack rappers die and I don't loose sleep?
Excuse me, but hip-hop these days, it don't enthuse me
I been framed like Mona Lisa, crucified like Easter
My dreams I still leave none/nun dead like Mother Theresa
+Trek+ to be +Star+, I show no emotion like Data
The business is gay and it's homeless, got no closet to come out of
Matter of fact it takes a real nigga like Proof to understand me (uh-huh)
I can't dress crazy like OutKast to win a Grammy
Even your family tries to play you 'til you get all rich
The whole world is underhanded like a softball pitch
A while back to define rap was ill verses on albums
I spit it harder than hitchhikin with no thumbs (yeah)
They're makin hip-hop a joke when there's nothin to smile at
I stay stoned like naked white women hoein in Iraq
Would you rather be a revered reverend thug angel in heaven
or, famous in hell, thinnin yourself like David Chappelle to sell?
Lower your inner self for wealth, I'm too stealth
I refuse to blow on verses that smell like Prazwell
Yo yo dawg, niggaz is wack but that money put some kid through college
Fuck 'em - my spit is vomit, they hit is garbage so many follow
but they riddin shallow
I would not allow my daughters to even watch the channel
unless Alicia Keys or Teena Marie is rockin a piano
This ain't Chingy, nigga, this is Chino
And this flow +Right Hurr+ be wetter than "Finding Nemo"
Fame ain't what I thought it be like, it's like midnight
in a desert full of rattlesnakes waitin for one to strike
