Plastic World (feat. KutMasta Kurt)

Yeah, Kool Keith should keep it real

He should rap about space and Mars

Yo, I'm tired of lookin' at everybody

Same boots, skully hats in ninety degree weather

Lookin' to get in clubs for free

I'm not smokin' blunts, or lookin' for jazz records at the Roosevelt

I left New York, the city itself was stress depression

High boots and urban beats, that wasn't my direction

Producers filtering join in with R&B

A million rappers, some clones tryna sound like me

Right in my space styles, biting my horror-core

All I saw was little Kool Keiths on my tour

Record companies, I G'd-off all my royalties

Watchin' vinyl spin, local groups, wack MC's

Some try to rap with that perpetrate mobster crap

Karl Kani jeans, fat stomachs in the limousines

Mixtapes by wack DJ's, as doo doo play

I'm on the turnpike, the city drifting down the highway

Like a mirage, the style there is all illusion

On videos out of town, peoples spot confusion

Rollin' high with caps pulled over down my eye

Since I been out, y'all can't see

Is the world made of plastic?

Is the city buried in dreams? (Yeah)

Is the world made of plastic?

'Cause that's the way it seems

Is the world made of plastic?

Is the city buried in dreams? (Yeah)

Watchin' TV so bored, while imbeciles hold the mic cord

Graffiti playgrounds are played out, yo, how'd that sound?

Army fatigue was weak, is for the minor league

No rappin' cyphers and brothers in the rented Benz

Crews on stage, actin' hard with a thousand friends

I saw the place turn plastic, crackheads loopin' beats

People with no deals, Walkmans, rappin' on the streets

I turned my back, ninety percent of the city sounded wack

Payola scams switch DJ's like a rubber band

Everybody clear with beats tryna be Premier

Clearin' your samples, your SP-12 fake examples

My money grosses with green from my own label

While you act rich with no cash on the bigger label

Your tristate ways are shut down by barricades

In fact I pack my bags, and listened to E-40

Mac Mall, C-Bo, and other rappers you don't know

You're narrow-minded in styles of mine you won't find it

My sound proceeds with Moog and undertone bass

No comic gimmicks, them beats rappin' in my face

I come back real, solid rock, razor steel

Tappin' your program, show the world I'm the man

You copy Poppa Large, the industry is robbed

Is the world made of plastic?

Is the city buried in dreams?

Is the world made of plastic?

'Cause that's the way it seems

Is the world made of plastic?

Is the city buried in dreams?

Is the world made of plastic?

'Cause that's the way it seems

As I do see soda, wack, rugged beer commercials

Some rappers are bought and puppeteered like the Ninja Turtles

From Manhattan I heat up, yo, light up Times Square

I make noise like open high hats on your cheap snare

No promotional shows, girls wear corn rows

People with hooded sweaters on crack keep me on my toes

I walk with straw hats and glasses in the projects

Bring my ghost image so tense on the line of scrimmage

Playin' my numbers, waiting for the five to come

Spaghetti out the window, people actin' dumb

Fire hydrants wet the neighbors, your family's nosy

I come and go as I please on blockhead MC's

You bought sneakers, no car, scrambling on the corner

I'm not the star you are, the city's fallen far

By mechanism, you on my tip

Stay off my penis, you duplicated me for years

Yeah, yeah, yeah, you are the one

Is the world made of plastic?

Is the city buried in dreams?

Is the world made of plastic?

'Cause that's the way it seems (Yeah)

Is the world made of plastic?

Is the city buried in dreams?

Is the world made of plastic?

'Cause that's the way it seems (Yeah)