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SmoothSmoothBeyond theBeyond theAutomatic, systematicAutomaticComplexJust ease it inThe feeling's rightThe music's tightDeparting out of Crooklyn, type Saturday nightThe gear the god was rocking type way out of sightLimping past the projectsSeen my man, a'ightSteelo type fat, solar type factsLater for milk and honey, get the money out this pieceRelaxI handle streets, all type slickJust like a seven no ???She got moistCause I gots the platinum voiceLike syrup, for delf roaming, the New York boroughsAs they temp our perms, plus I ride the iron wormsSongtexteUptown across down, from the boogie with no fakingGhetto to my marrow, thenEase on back to CrooklynHold it, as loot in my timbs and army suitsParlayin where Malcolm stood, now brothers push they blow outA slicker nigga pig, dig me picking my fucking 'fro outLimping up the one tree fivesThe p-jectsThe eject these herbsThat's word to green herbNow the curbsI play that like, primo supreme hustlerNappy hair, oil slick, loyal to kick and dirty snareLittle pantherAnswers to the nom de plum butterNice, preciser rubber, slicer and cutterIn a freshly dip state, I contemplateWhose avenue be making the most bacon?My honey gets the loot out, what's shakingWe getting live, dreaming being in the central ave. bus stopThen I call bust out, wassup?Seems that the dream team's me, Mecca the god, and SulaimanIf your beats is phattyAnd it's onThen I'm goneHey, hey, heyEasin in as slick as I canYou know my motions, slimmer with no limoI ride the c local, and tilt my army brimmerMilt bless the vibes, pro symbolizeBuilt with the fives, my clique then amplifiedSounds as we ease, beneath the New York moonPounds as we dip, increase these New York tunesIt's the universe I haveNappy and happy, June 12th, I self don't say that existsImported on the ships, with irons around the fistGradual to afros, black cats, and fist picksStill creating boogies, and the styles they wantNow they try to move us, for the styles we flauntBut I, seen it sunny, plus seen rainPlus seen my moneys getting smoked for changeI face left in the round upPound up the godWhen the devilBlow to the essenceSinks deep down into the blue train coverThe real got surreal cause we feel you ain't a gangsterWhen I was a youngster ate jazz and blackFreedom had a pistol it was just like thatOld earth gave me kisses to her coach and power recordsPumas these flavors busy b mic checkin'sThe crown says I'm down, from the ground upBut what if emcee comesCome on, emcee goEasin in as slick as I canThe feelings rightThe music's tightDeparting out of Crooklyn, type Saturday nightThe gear the god was rocking type way out of sightLimping past the projectsSee my man, a'ightWhen the mic check countsMy amounts is cashI don't shoot outI get that loot out cause I'm freshHit you with the gold front grin, with diamond lookMuhammad made em, Nikki paid himI was shookI tell an emcee in a eye blinkThat you wack as crackCee-know got my backAnd we both can laughAnd for example, we swift thisLifted up on luckAnd for complexing, like brass and brown skinWe of this, built this with south boogie downBronxOuts the clowns, in the suitsWith the cashI tell' emPass the ruck, or get stuck by my comrade's badgeJust like my mom and dad had itAnd did itEasin in as slick as I canQuiet please, quiet pleaseWelcome to this classBlack studies 700 the art of easingI'm your conductor instructor Mr. CastroTake a look at your syllabusYou are required to be plushed out, and dip dailyGuess, army suits, timbs, lugz, whateverQuiet please in the back, quiet pleaseYou will have two textsAnd finally, we are taking a field tripTo the East Star HousingProjects speak perfect slangBlack caeser, superfly, goldenThese are the images we want you portrayed inPlease, could you be quiet Mr. SimmonsThank you Aus Songtexte Mania