[Verse 1: Phonte] Yo, the spirit in the sky scream homicide But it was time to ride Then some niggas funny talking and too much money talking We make em economize Real rap – no tails spinning, such is the life of a Kam-I-Ka-Ze pilot We wylin out of control until we all make the funny papers like Comic-Con Feared in all streets so, if you ever see me out in y’all streets Find another one to occupy I never hope for the best I wish a nigga would Turn around and walk away I wish a nigga could Listen to my instincts and say fuck the rest But once you’ve had the best better ain’t as good Weak-heartedness cannot be involved Stick to the script nigga fuck your improv Like the samurai The street’s Hammurabi Code Play your part shut the fuck up and do as I was told
[Hook #1] I was always late for the bus Just once can I be on time Then I start to think what’s the rush Who wants to be on time Feeling unlucky and if I ever got lucky it was one time In this crazy world
[Verse 2: Black Thought] Not a thing I fear besides fear itself This is clearly a lesson learned for someone else Reach for the crown of thorns upon the shelf Cross around my neck I’ve been taught by stealth Capture this moment in time… it’s a smash and grab And where my party people y’all finna have a blast You say goodbye… I say hello first and last Hello-Hello… Now all of y’all elevate your glass To an example of what time will do to you When those nameless things just keep on eluding you When shit is new to you and lies is true to you Words of suspects-usual… coming though to you Man, I guess if I was ever lucky it was one time Then I went missing looking for the sublime A nigga stayed low left the ladder unclimbed Time after time, verse blank, the line unrhymed
[Hook #2] You ever wonder what’s the big fuss.. For everyone be on time What’s the big deal, why do they feel The need to have as marching on line Feeling unlucky and if I’d ever got lucky it was one time In this crazy world
[Verse 3: Dice Raw] I wonder when you die do you hear harps and bagpipes If you born on the other side of the crack pipe Niggas learn math just to understand the crack price Then drive in head first like the jack knife Cause out here, yo you niggas can’t belly flop If you wanna make the noise inside your belly stop One time means being on the front line Being on the front line means ducking one time The pendulum swinging my way- couldn’t be more blind Niggas talk to the cops? Not even one time Cause we all going down just like the subprime Or a cheap ass half gallon of Ballantine But hopping over gates to escape is sublime Then through the alley way and down to the sub line Tales from the streets A life of high crime To make it to the bottom Such a high climb