Show Lyrics

Ill Harmonics - Cuba Gooding
(from the album Take Two)

i must be crazy bout your love
i must be crazy bout the way you talk to me
like a force that's taken over me
i must be crazy bout your love

Playdough's the name, came reading out of old king james
Some call me ving rhames cuz my rhymes thick with the sickest type of illness
Cracking they egg, bubonic plague type contagious
Knowledge in the pages turned
I watch them burn with the rest while dust taking the flesh back
Plus entire buildings they filling up where they nest at,
Where they rest at, but the wicked find none
Trying to run but the Son's lighting everything done
There's One Way, but few that could say they chose to stay
On the slimmest miniscule riding mule down a pathway
That was me looking blurred cooking word on a hibachi
You could spot me looking sloppy while they was rocking versaci
In a tight fit, I write hits to smack the subjects they lack
In fact wack call me black belt jones
We owns the mic-phones speaking bright tones
While these suckers better write home to they madre
And to God pray the plan
Cuz little did they know that playdough done made her a fan
I stand tall, call all to follow the caravan
Rocking mics in a tan double x cardigan

your skin is ivory, yes tranquil to the touch
whether white or black, it don't matter
cause all the chatter ceases, when your pieces are put together
and no type of weather could ever sever the bond we've made
i'm your creator sometimes you're up sometimes you're blue
i hope god looks at me the way i look at you
though my career is always in my ear temptin' me to alter you
i remain like matt and ted and keep it true for you.
i fellowship with you on planes and automobiles
thru drum fills you speak to me your dialect
and we connect, sometimes we don't get respect
but i have no regrets, i'm not usin' you just to jet-set
but better yet, thru sickness and health
with nothin' or wealth we're makin' music
til sound waves are no more to crash to the shore
and until then, i'll be more than just a friend.

some try to distort you and even contort you
givin' you a bad rap, like you're the one in the slump
gettin' over the hump isn't easy when you're feudin' with your relatives
over superlative sound
i heard around town about awards in your honor
and since you're almost a goner
you and i must unite to fight
a war not fought with a gun or arrow
so with a narrow and precise frequency i emcee
Going crazy for the venue continuing on the road
Sacrificing everything that I got for this pot of gold
That I'm chasing placing everything else last
Looking back to the place it began it was so fast
How the time pass, I'm getting up in my years
But still ain't satisfied with my shows lack of the cheers
I fears that I gotta keep priorities straight
This sacrificing's barely putting any food on my plate but wait i.......