Come on, how sick are these lyrics, you can’t fuck with that!
They was told not to ride in Patty’s +Hearse+
and stay out of Charles’ +Manson+
Took Abraham’s +Lincoln+ through the Todd +Bridges+ espansion
Willis +Reid+s a map that marks the spot showin
On his left George +Burns+ a blunt William’s holdin
Tara +Bank+ed the money that Chaka +Khan+ed the poor
Alicia +Key+ed his car for givin Melbourne +Moore+
For the Redd +Foxx+ who bought off the block, but though twice
As Debora +Cox+ the gun cuz she beat Kelly’s +Price+
When Rosa +Park+ed the truck on the farm that Kim +Fields+
Linda +Tripp+ed for tryna to walk in Lauryn’s +Hills+
Water dripped outta Farrah’s +Fawcett+ in the glass
She was “Superfly”, Curtis +Mayfield+ her ass
Chris +Tucker+ to a show, Ted +Turner+ to a hoe
Robert +Diggs+ the beat, but ain’t feelin the flow
But he signed it fast, for half of Johnny’s +Cash+
+Nia Long+ed for the album to drop, cameras flashed
Tom +Sawyer+ at the Lucielle +Ball+ up at the foyer
He confronted Richard +Pryor+ to hiring his lawyer
Suge’s +Knight+ removed the rook off the board
Donna +King+ was checked and Al +Sharpton+ the sword
“Wettin cream, I aint wettin fame”
“Fame is the measure”
“Rap’s the lab”
“The place where stars are born”
[Verse 2]
The saints marched in, Kurtis +Blow+ing his horn
Tom +Cruise+d the boulevard, Chris +Rock+ed the song
For the hundredth time, they pressed rewind to the beginning
They toast to the rhyme, the juice spilt from John’s +Lennon+
They took her to Elizabeth +Taylor+ to dry clean
The lone seamstress, who was schemin on Al’s +Green+
You know they shoot for the stars and buckwild
Like the kids in the yard who play with +Jane’s Child+
A beautician laced Erykah’s +Badu+
Sean +Comb+ed through the evidence, just to get a clue
The needle in the haystack, from outta earth this kid
The tiger would kill him once thrown in Brad’s +Pitt+
Jesse +Owen+ the money from the weed Bubba +Sparxxx+
They was journeys seen far as he walked in Dick’s +Clark+
Jeffery +Lyons+ stuck with a thorn from George’s +Bush+
Paul +Pierce+d in the heart as the crowd pushed
Acting alone… Drew +Barrymore+ bones
of the victims, three blocks from Jim’s +Brownstone+
They shared the same bowl, he caught Natalie’s +Cole+d
The producer, threw the butter on Esther’s +Rolle+
Dempsey +Russel+ed him down, got his jaw wide
In a instant, Brooke +Shields+ him from the gunfire
Angie +Stone+d him to death, with those vocals
Keith +Sweat+ from the workout, just from runnin local
“With CREAM I ain’t with the fame”
“Fame is the measure”
“Rap’s the lab”
“The place where stars are born”
[Verse 3]
Larry’s +Bird+ flew outta Nicholas’ +Cage+
Joe +Tex+ messages from Satchel’s +Paige+
Betty +Wright+ letters with ink from Sean’s +Penn+
Infinite bars, you couldn’t tell where the song end
Glenn +Close+ enough to quickly duck the tapes
Richard +Gere+ ripped while he was climbin Bill +Gates+
He was a southerner, posing as a, native New Yorker
The Jason +Kidd+ took his first steps in Jimmy’s +Walker+
He stayed on line chattin with rap celebs
Used Bernie’s +Mack+ to search Veronica’s +Webb+
It cost them their life for the advice you gave
Now Pete +Rose+ lay on Vanessa’s +Redgrave+
“With CREAM I ain’t with the fame”
“Fame is the measure”
“Rap’s the lab”
“The place where stars are born”
“With CREAM I ain’t with the fame”
“Fame is the measure”
“Rap’s the lab”
“The place where stars are born”
