It's as if the forefathers and they traded for peace

They can lick the wound slow like they from the Northeast

They resisting going easy, banking on the hearsay

But they all know the man with the co-pay

Hitched up in the mid they get the high to low rap

It's a tight rope 'til the rope go slack

It'll blow your mind but it don't get you around

I ain't messin' around

I ain't messin' around

So I got my gold parachute, tell my Ma I left town

With my chloroform, I'm in the Monet, phone it in

Take a long ride down a narrow drive and you can bed down here

Then come and jump me now

May I Esther will you reach for the money

So I don't sell the van, can't find rye, can't find mine

C.A.T.S. got nine times

So let the Boochie on the record and you got him on the

Messin' around

He only messin' around

So can we do a re-vote backed by a hard-earned job?

Those hard-to-get-to things abound

As if I don't think think thinkin' I been sippin' on the worm

We was lookin' from the town lookout

And say preach buy them treats and does God he pray

Father told 'em pick 'em off the fallen tree

But Father pick 'em off the Tyvek

So we get caught up on the mountain, still no paycheck

To be found

I ain't messin' around

Are you sorted?

Are you sound, are you sound, are you sound?

Are you sorted?