Takes a step back
From the vacant chair
Looking in the mirror
While she's combing her hair
Wipes the dust from a cup
While she's cleaning up
Wonders very slightly
What she's doing there
A simple reflection
Can be too revealing
Years are for counting
Years are for stealing
She's a mathematician
Calculator
Counting daily
Counting forever...
Cold clean glass and a razor blade
Fly on the table and a passing car
Closes the curtain to keep in the shade
Closes her head and now she's counting down
Dust is collecting
But she doesn't notice
Counting for ever
She's a calculator
No-one can see her
She's invisible now
No-one can see her
And the dust is collectingChorus:
Neva gon' bounce, neva, neva gon' bounce
(Never.... say never) (3X)
Y'all bitches...
Get ya' mind right
Get'cha, Get'cha mind right (7X)
1st Verse:
I'm tryin' to do my thang like a rap star tryin' to
stay clean, ache my hands, and avoid the game
but it's hard. Cuz I can ball dope and get paid
like a muthafucker gotta be another way to pay
T. Tucker, used to roll twenties by the ounce (ounce)
My papa got a brand new mag it's called bounce.
Crackers wanna label me a nigga man but I'm
a bigga man, I said fuck that or do go to trigga
man. It's the new somethin' cream goin' round,
it started in the saint town and now it move to
ghost town. Said tonight was time but where
your gat? Niggas get WILD when they hear
Botty-at, Booty-at. You bitches tryin' to pussy-pop
dealin' herb, slung tapes ten dollas a rock.
Ya gotta take what you NEED, take what you
WANT, slingin' tapes out the CLUB and tapes
out the TRUNK. When the trigga man bails soft,
take'em to the saint tell him rock another block
party. DJ Irv had that shit bumpin', T.T. Tucker
had the dance floor jumpin', whole project
full of hoes (Come on, go T.T., go T.T., go). But
if a nigga jumps stupid i'm blast ya' (Who put this
fuckin' thing together?) ME, that's ME that's who
I told you don't fuck with me.
Chorus
2nd Verse:
Oooh, see I'm the one that you talkin' bout. Drop
a little red tape and a stone in the sword, and my
pocket got swoll from insurance. I bought a
little more gold and fucked a lotta' more hoes!
All them bitches know what's up (How they know,
How they know?) They heard me on the radio
buddah I set up. Where-he-at hittin' dead home
if it wasn't bumpin' in your ride it was bumpin' in
your headphones. No it ain't gone to my head
cuz I ain't gon' let it, damn it feel good gettin'
sweated, huh, huh, huh. Uptown, downtown,
cross the