[Verse 1: Phonte]

Yo, the spirit in the sky scream, "Homicide!"

But it was time to ride on some niggas funny talking

If too much money talking, we make 'em economize

Real rap, no tale spinning, such is the life of a kamika-

Ze pilot, we wildin' out of control

Until we all make the funny papers like Comic Con

Feared in all streets

So if you ever see me out in y'all streets, find another one to occupy

I never hope for the best, I wish a nigga would

Turn around and walk away, I wish a nigga could

Listen to my instincts and say, "Fuck the rest"

But once you had the best, "better" ain't as good

Weakheartedness cannot be involved

Stick to the script, nigga, fuck your improv

Like a samurai, the streets' Hammurabi Code

Play your part, shut the fuck up, and do as I was told

[Hook 1: Dice Raw]

I was always late for the bus

Just once, can I be on time?

Then I start to think, "What's the rush?

Who wants to be on time?"

Feeling unlucky

And if I ever got lucky, it was one time

In this crazy world

[Verse 2: Black Thought]

Not a thing I fear besides fear itself

This is clearly a lesson learned for someone else

Reach for the crown of thorns upon the shelf

Cross around my neck, I've been taught by stealth

Capture this moment in time, it's a smash-and-grab

And where my party people? Y'all finna have a blast

You say, "Goodbye," I say, "Hello"—first and last

Hello, hello, now all of y'all elevate your glass

To an example of what time'll do to you

When those nameless things just keep on eluding you

When shit is new to you and lies is true to you

Words of suspects, usual, coming though to you

Man, I guess if I was ever lucky, it was one time

Then I went missing, looking for the sublime

A nigga stayed low, left the ladder unclimbed

Time after time, verse blank, the line unrhymed

[Hook 2: Dice Raw]

You ever wonder, what's the big fuss

For everyone to be on time?

What's the big deal? Why do they feel

The need to have us marching on-line?

Feeling unlucky

And if I'd ever got lucky, it'd be one time

In this crazy world

[Verse 3: Dice Raw]

I wonder, when you die, do you hear harps and bagpipes?

If you born on the other side of the crack pipe

Niggas learn math just to understand the crack price

Then dive in headfirst like a jackknife

'Cause out here, yo, you niggas can't belly-flop

If you wanna make the noise inside your belly stop

"On time" means being on the front line

Being on the front line means ducking one-time

The pendulum swinging my way, couldn't be more blind

Niggas talk to the cops? Not even one time

'Cause we all going down just like the subprime

Or a cheap-ass half-gallon of Ballantine

But hopping over gates to escape is sublime

Been through the alleyway and down to the sub line

Tales from the streets, a life of high crime

To make it to the bottom, such a high climb

[Hook 1: Dice Raw]

I was always late for the bus

Just once, can I be on time?

Then I start to think, "What's the rush?

Who wants to be on time?"

Feeling unlucky

And if I ever got lucky, it was one time

In this crazy world