That's what I'm after tell me what I'm after
(I'm after the gold then after that the platinum)
Once again it's the real ill microphone enhancer
Smoking mcs coming down from lung cancer
The mace is in my hand but I'm not afraid to shoot ya
Nobody can see me - I am the future
So you know that no one can ever hurt me
Because I'm ill
(Like what)
Like herpies
And I really don't give a damn who you are
Mr. Funky man all hail m r funkular
Now in 1985 is when I first started to rock
Trying to do the human beatbox like
(Boom hah hah boom boom hah hah)
All over the place shooting spit in your face
Then when the beatbox start play
That's when I started rocking mic's
Make you wack mcs wanna fight
Because they always tried to battle me to see who is the best
So you know I have to roll on the quest
For what I'm after
(I'm after the gold then after that the platinum)
Hip hop and props that's what what we're after
(I'm after the gold then after that the platinum)
Stacks of those plaques - that's what we're after
If it's hip hop that makes yo knees knock
Turn us up box
I know you peep the sound, it's the lords on the block
It's the list now this is how I live now
Making people get down to my funky sound
Ever since I heard the sound I wanted to be down
Here's my demo tape won't you please pass it down
So I can get paid and have things like I said
A car, a yacht, a house with a maid
But wow! Slow down the party ain't that easy
Oh my God I think I let that video deceive me
No matter, as long as the rhymes are the phatter
I bet you billboard has me top of the ladder
Publishing like loving, I learned that from my cousin
Write your own tunes and you'll see thousands by the dozens
And after all that, if you gave back
All I want to see is the golden platinum plaque
Now it's 1995
And I finally got my foot in the door
Got props I want more
Cause I'm definitely not where I used to be
But I'm nowhere near where I wanna be
I wanna be able to go out and buy a golf range
And still walk away with change
Until then there's no time to be wasting
So I gotta keep on chasing, chasing
Well what I'm after - it's simple
Come on and peep the mental
This ghetto born kid blowing up on instrumentals
What's the matter oh I know you can't peep my pattern
My style is designed to shed light like a lantern
So click click now the light's directly on your ear
If you peep the sound then run and tell a peer
What happened - did you get locked by my rapping?
You had to, cause gold and the plat is what I'm after
