Call me G*Natural, when I'm on the mic, it's the place to be, cause everytime I Grab the mic, I gotta keep it 97 plus 3, so lemme get this Off my chest, a topic important that I gotsta mention, cause everytime I Grab the mic and rock it, it's the thing that grabs your attention, here's some clues Michael Jackson did this, in the title of a hit song, and not to Do this to a dead horse, but the Whispers said and it just goes on The Bangles told me they all had it, the Grizzlies made him their 2nd draft pick The word is a synonym for rhythm in a track, but it's getting away, we gotta bring it back I don't mind the fusion of hip-hop with R&B But way too many producers are doing this and I think it's a tragedy, you wouldn't make no Automobile with an audible wheel and then forget the driver's seat, so how you gonna Make a rap and then create a track with no discernable beat? C'mon now! Is it really that hard? I know how, to make a drum track move with a low growl Toss in a few jokes kinda lowbrow, without murdering the beat, Nicole Brown Oh wow, maybe that line just caught you by surprise, but that's what it's Like to be jonesing for a good beat, but the song is like "DENIED" Why you cut the beat out? I thought this was supposed to be a hip-hop joint Please don't cut the beat out, listening to a banging beat, that's half the point If you cut the beat out, I can feel the void from my ears into my brain And I won't say another rhyme, until you bring the beat back in again BRING THE BEAT BACK, BRING THE BEAT BACK BRING THE BEAT BACK HOMIE, BRING THE BEAT BACK BRING THE BEAT BACK, BRING THE BEAT BACK BRING THE BEAT BACK PLAYA, BRING THE BEAT BACK When I was a young man, 40s were a strong drink that'll get you lifted Now that I'm in my 40s, the new rap's got me feelin' antagonistic Don't get me wrong, I know it's artistic, but when you take the beat out, I miss it It's like, what are you, sadistic? I hope my mind will change, but I'm not optimistic So all you hip-hop producers, don't do me like that And if you take out the beat, then put it right back You've got control keep it going, otherwise the flow you're deploying will Not sound dope, but mostly annoying It's like you're in bed and you get a meddlesome knock at the door, or like you're At the zoo, the lion says to you, "I'm not gonna roar," because a Brotha like me is always gonna be hip-hop to the core, and so a Rap without a beat is cool but it's not hip-hop anymore, so please Go back to the track and just edit... Edit... Edit ... Otherwise you're showing me that you just don't get it... get it... get it... I bet it's Unintentional, but an accident, to put rap on a track that's lacking it You call that hip-hop, it's inaccurate, there is a matter of the beat you gotta factor in, and ride It like a tractor in the back green... Jump on it like trampoline, or bite In like a nectarine in a fruit salad, get a taste of a new palate Cause it's valid that the beat's stacked like a pallet jack, or a horse that'll gallop back To the man in a famous scene, was I born with it, or is it Maybelline? So if you're able lean to the side, throw ya hands up, and make a scene Cause when I spit fire on the track, I burn the mic, the clip, and the cabling, I'm Cold hearted, all my rap dreams have dearly departed, so all that I ask is Please keep the beat on the track, and all that mumble rap? DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED Why you cut the beat out? I thought this was supposed to be a hip-hop joint Please don't cut the beat out, listening to a banging beat, that's half the point If you cut the beat out, I can feel the void from my ears into my brain And I won't say another rhyme, until you bring the beat back in again BRING THE BEAT BACK, BRING THE BEAT BACK BRING THE BEAT BACK HOMIE, BRING THE BEAT BACK BRING THE BEAT BACK, BRING THE BEAT BACK BRING THE BEAT BACK PLAYA, BRING THE BEAT BACK

The night is filled with pretty girls Dancing shoes and flying hair Not one of them would refuse To follow you up the stairs You could have your pick of them Why decide to pick on me? You promised me you'd stay away You promised me you'd set me free Pounding of my heart Trembling of my hands Some things I'll just never understand You know what to do to me You know what it does to me You know what to do to me You know what it does to me You know what to do Do, you know what to do The night is filled with shooting stars I watch them fall, 'cause I can't sleep I pray that you won't call at all I'm still awake at ten to three I hear your motorcycle roar You pull up short outside my door I don't know how I got outside I don't know why I'm on this ride We made love like a house on fire We made love like dogs gone mad Some things I'll just never understand 'Cause you know what to do to me You know what it does to me You know what to do to me You know what it does to me You know what to do to me You know what it does to me You know what to do to me You know what it does to me You know what to do Do, you know what to do Yes, you do You know what to do Oh baby, oh yeah You know what to do Pounding of my heart Trembling of my hands Some things I'll just never understand 'Cause you know what to do to me You know what it does to me You know what to do to me You know what it does to me You know what to do to me You know what it does to me You know how to do it to me You know what it does to me You know what to do to me You know what it does to me You know what to do to me You know what it does to me

I used to pace around a lot thinking deep to myself Why do people like to talk? It can't be good for their health Having strong opinions based on nothing at all Except they heard it from a mighty smart man who knows it all It used to drive me mental, always on the brain The first thing in the morn' and when I go to bed again I heard that people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones If they're talking about me, they're leaving someone else alone So, what do you want to know? And I'll tell you the gods honest truth Well, what did you hear last night? Would I ever lie to you? And I couldn't get over that, he didn't lick that off the grass But you never heard that from me That's the way it's always going to be A few years on and I've gone through a transition Calling people out on gossip is no longer a mission Instead, when they come at me with the bullshit There's no better man to give them their fill of it If that's what keeps them going, who am I to deny them? The cycle is recycled and there's no point in rising 'Cause rising leads to ruction, and ruction leads to fighting Fighting leads to jail time, sure that could be a lifetime So, what do you want to know? And I'll tell you the gods honest truth Well, what did you hear last night? Would I ever lie to you? And I couldn't get over that, he didn't lick that off the grass But you never heard that from me That's the way it's always going to be What about the babysitter, a 5th cousin of Hitler? In every single house and I've heard there's badness in her And then the painter John from Tyrone or Inishowen What's he doing painting anyway? He's involved with Al Capone A little birdie told me, I read it in the paper I've seen it on the internet, I heard it from a neighbour And everybody's talking, but I don't know them really well You're not the first one said that, so I would well believe it So, what do you want to know? And I'll tell you the gods honest truth Well, what did you hear last night? Would I ever lie to you? I couldn't get over that, he didn't lick that off the grass But you never heard that from me That's the way it's always going to be So, what do you want to know? And I'll tell you the gods honest truth Well, what did you hear last night? Would I ever lie to you? I couldn't get over that, he didn't lick that off the grass But you never heard that from me That's the way it's always going to be