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I guess we're sittin' on the park on this one you (?) Yo I'm looking for a place to chill For a place to display my skills For a place to build To express how I feel inside For a place to just vibe and rhyme Kick back and relax To my tracks, (?) Without old folks callin' it crap It's my pen and my pad No (?) shit, politics in it, just spittin' in it (?) love and respect No checks, no rapping for sex No crap about a (?) I'm not having it broke I want a home where the roots go platinum Common is common in households and Mos Def ain't actin' Tribe is back together, and Jam Master J stay rockin' his leather Where the records get more played than CDs please Ain't no Super Saiyan tip for (?) You gotta be real, gotta be ill with delivery No mimicking nobody just writing the tightest synonym Feeling me dawg? I wanna stay where the real emcees are SongtexteWhere the illest beats are, fuck the industry, dawg Where the backyards are shows, and hoes that just backup singers for pros And my flows and tracks go together forever Next to us and so And four doors down, it's rock and roll I wanna go Feels like hip-hop's lost its soul Every time I'm on the road Ain't no matter where I go Fake shit's on the radio See the sea and show the shore Any place that's on the go Ain't no matter where I go Fake shit's on the radio Instead of playing this, they'd rather be playing that And instead of making hits, they'd rather be making crap They label it as rap and all they talk about is (?) Crap in, they crap out Instead of playing this, they'd rather be playing that And instead of making hits, they'd rather be making crap They label it as rap and all they talk about is (?) Crap in, they crap out I'm looking for a place to rhyme For a place to let shit off my mind Kick back and recline Write verses about the women I'm feelin' And I could spit a couple to 'em and they won't get offended Shit, I'm looking for a place where I could say what I like Come out the studio feeling right, from lacing it tight Take it right to the stage and display it on mics Repeat it every single day of my life Just like heaven and me Picture droppin' music freely Without checkin' weekly how many people went and got your CD Without labels being greedy, taking paper from the needy The grass is even greener than a (?) CD See we don't want money Sip some change a piece My niggas don't lose brains to beef And when I play beats And when you ask and I say it's JD I don't mean Jermaine Dupri's So shame these lames, these things need to gauge the test And the (?) the best label Trying to find a place where you ain't got to take no vest And a bitch-ass Nelly would never step to get your rest This whole place is a mess Trying to find a way up out of this And hip-hop is like my Wizard of Oz, yes I'm like Dorothy, except my (?) slippers are chrome Click three times, I'm trying to go home, y'all I'm trying to go home Feels like hip-hop's lost its soul Every time I'm on the road Ain't no matter where I go Fake shit's on the radio See the sea and show the shore Any place that's on the go Ain't no matter where I go Fake shit's on the radio Aus Songtexte Mania