(To the beat y'all)
Ah, yeah
(Ya don't stop, ya don't stop)
Sound good to me

This sound hard, somethin funky people gon' dance to
Give the record a second and a chance to
Hittin' people like a scene of amazement
While they slippin' back my feet is planted in the pavement
Crumble, I can never do
So now I'm lookin' dead at you
What are you gonna do?
You listen to the knowledge of a scholar
You say, "Hi Breed", tell 'em how I holler
I'm the E Double, and I proclaim my name
Straight up good game, peeps all game
I'm like a rhino runnin' through the roughest pack
They figure I'm a trigga happy nigga, so they step back
Breed, the microphonist
Boot last the longest
The noose's the strongest
It ain't a game, that's plain to see
You listen to the sounds of Breed (and the DFC)

(To the beat y'all, and ya don't stop)
(To the beat y'all, and ya don't stop)
There ain't no future in your frontin'
(To the beat y'all, and ya don't stop)
(To the beat y'all)

I never got caught with a kilo
And if you ever do, yo, it will never be with me, yo
Servin in a Cherokee or maybe it's a G.O
Black-on-black Benzo, I get it at (?)
Never have to worry bout my posse gettin' jumped
'Cause if we ever do, yo TB, pop the trunk
'Cause we don't go for playin', when I play go grab a ball
When I'm on the mic I ain't for playin', not at all
'Cause I clock ten g's a week boomin' at my peak
Always seek E sober, but I do get geeked
I can give you a job, a place to eat hearty
Meet your homeboy Marty at a B.O.B. party
Takin over, barkin' like a dog named Rover (woof)
I'm pickin suckers like a four-leaf clover
They're bitin' lyrics on the mic, I diss these cobras
So now they sayin, "Eric Breed is gettin over" (and to the beat, y'all)

There ain't no future in your frontin'
Ha, ha, ha (to the beat, y'all)
There ain't no future in your frontin'

I'm the B, the R, to the double E-D
And down with my homie G-A-S and O.E. and
Suckers causin' static, 'cause they still be disagreein'
I don't give a, cause I'm from F-L-I-N-T
In a city where pity runs low
If you ever shoot through my city, now you know
'Cause we are strictly business and we also got our pride
And if you don't like it, I suggest you break wide
Sucka's steady lookin' for the M-O-N-E-Y
Thinkin that illegal is the best way, so they dyin'
I ain't got time to see a fiend, fiend out
To give up all his money, and he givin' what he got
That's the way I am, MC Breed cannot be different
Never change my ways for the world or the government
If I was the president, then I would state facts
You leave it up to me, I paint the white house black
It ain't no future in your frontin'

(To the beat y'all, and ya don't stop)
(To the beat y'all, and ya don't stop)
Ha ha, there ain't no future in your frontin'
(To the beat y'all, and ya don't stop)
(And to the beat y'all, don't stop)(don't quit)

Yeah, I got dollars in my pocket, not from rollin'
If I was a fiend, then my gold would be stolen
Put my name Breed on everything I own
And when I get my Jeep I'm puttin' 'Breed' on the chrome
Shine it up good, kickin' through my neighborhood
Motorola phone, fat rims and a Kenwood
Quick to get around it, and then I'll have it drop
Simply cause I'm ridin', people think I'm sellin' rocks
But ain't no future in your frontin'

(To the beat y'all, keep on)
(To the beat y'all, k-k-k-k-keep on)
There ain't no future in your frontin'
(To the beat y'all, keep on, and to the beat, y'all)

Yo Flash man, drop that, man
Won't you drop that

(Keep on)
(To the beat)
(To the beat)
(To the beat)

Cruel to the rules of the world
Live my life raw, cause I never liked the law
Wear top tens, on my ass use jeans
Sellin' big eighths and tit-for-tat to the fiends
Clock much dollars, but I never break a sweat
Time to move out, my posse sayin' (bet)
You got my back, and I got yours
What time is it? Hm, tear down the doors

(To the beat, y'all)
Man (to the beat, y'all)
It ain't no future in your frontin' (to the beat, y'all)
Never was, cuz'
Ha, there ain't no future in your frontin

Hey man, let's start this party up, right?
Kick out that fat fat dancin', yeah (to the beat y'all)
(Keep on)
(Keep on)
(Keep on)
(Keep on)
(Beat, y'all)
(Beat, y'all)
(Keep on)
(Beat, y'all, beat y'all, beat though)
(Keep on)

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Exploration Group LLC, Word Collections Publishing
Writer(s): Clarence Satchell, Gregory Webster, Leroy Bonner, Marshall Jones, Marvin Pierce, Norman Napier, Ralph Middlebrooks, Roger Troutman, Walter Morrison