Tekster: Juice. Other. Key To The City.

Still got that key to the city....

[Verse 1]
uh..uh....uh
J-U, The hot shit, to hot to fall
I'm too ahead of my time kid, I stop for y'all
in a drunk mind state, I bomb Kuwait
I'm so ill I raise the dead when I rhyme at wakes
From the moment that my first verse caught your head
years later you'll be buggin' off the thoughts I said
Now I'm lampin' on the street, with my foot on the curb
give me the illest concept, and I can put it in words
Analog mics are used to record the subliminal
Pro Tools chapped em soundwave and make em digital
Flow cool Juice'll do the mic something pitiful
For me you're gonna need a million gigabytes minimal
Niggas wanna rap they gettin in it for dough
but start hangin up when they cell minutes are low
I'm toed back off of a couple Guinnesses though
I'll have people passin' out before I finish the show
now you feelin' insecure when I grin at yo' ho'
I had her ass in the air kid, chin on the flo'
Now you tryin' to spend your dough, so your women'll know
I'm still Juice but big Panik put the gin in the flow
Now the flows are the fattest crazy rap status
Juice hold belts in all the fuckin' weight classes
I'm anti-sobriety, I try to stay tipsy
I move at the speed of light, Blink, you missed me

[Chorus]
From the Midwest, to the West
And all sides of the U.S. feeling buddah blessed
No matter how it goes we fresh
Cause you can have a scantron and still can't test, the best

[Chorus 2]
From the East coast to the West
The best sides of the U.S. feeling buddah blessed
No matter how it goes we fresh
Cause you can have a scantron and still can't test, the best

[Verse 2]
I was told by the council, to lead the new millinium
One ounce'll have your skin chippin' like a pentium
3 processor, nobody floss fresher
my style very day to day like a cross dresser (Whoo)
Juice at the club, your whore I macked her
She forgot she had a man until the morning after
Bones and vocal cords get torn and fractured
She said comparin' us was like before and after
Juice bust 'em out, flush 'em out, what's the fuss about
I kick lines other cats can only cuss about
they say Juice is on the lose, have you seem him
I'm day and night and every hour between 'em
I'm on some Mary J. shit, nigga this is my life
Tape so hot they had to wrap it up in dry-ice
So having any thoughts about winnin me God
is like tryin to save a game without a memory card
And in case you didn't know, I'm paid to hijack your motorcade
Try to wave to the crowd I'm blowin off your shoulder blade
your chance to live is at a very low percentage
your so close to death that you can see your own image
A amateur, lost to a professional
Now they dissconnectin you from all that bullshit you was connected to
I need no remorse, I had to diminish 'em
In Mortal Kombat I had the crowd screamin' "Finish him"

[Chorus 1 + Chorus 2]