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http://www.eemp3.com/audiofile/7106f3dcec5332c152e4a6b14ef486f4.mp3
点击复制Tomorrow (Explicit) - Ice Cube
Composed by：O'Shea Jackson/Warryn Campbell
All hail to the West coast I am the grand wizard
The West coast warlord and the future is today
'Cause tomorrow that s**t never come
I worry 'bout today and this urban decay
I worry 'bout hip-hop when did it flip-flop
Get whack and turn into gridlock
I don't know is it a government plot
I don't give a f**k whether you love it or not
That's all we got and if you throw it away
You dumb as OJ off a forty
In your Izod this the rap God
What you goin' put up in your iPod
Downloader what you goin' do
When your favorite MC got to sue you
'Cause he got to eat ain't nothin' taboo
Get your a*s beat by Erykah Badu
'Cause you wanna steal this good music
Put me out of business now you lose it
Tomorrow don't you worry about tomorrow that s**t never come
This is very hard to swallow
Keep your hand up on that throttle
You batter right okey right okey
Don't you worry 'bout tomorrow
Tomorrow I'ma handle my business
But today I'ma drink this liquor
'Cause tomorrow I might be a little quicker
But today I'm just the same old n***a
You know that s**t is still a day away
Do yo' thing baby put your life on layaway
'Cause everybody is Nostradamus
Boy don't you know that tomorrow ain't promised
To all the lil' mamas
Don't do a n***a like Isiah Thomas
If you a b***h please be honest
Actin' like a h*e you're not an an-gel
While you're daydreaming 'bout your future
Motherf**ker come around the corner and shoot you
Don't you get stuck in neutral
Put your s**t in drive while you still alive 'cause
Tomorrow don't you worry about tomorrow that s**t never come
This is very hard to swallow
Keep your hand up on that throttle
I'm right okey right okey
Don't you worry 'bout tomorrow
Tomorrow that s**t never come
I know it sounds strange but today is never done
I'm up in the Range when the clock strikes 1
While y'all countin' sheep I'm countin' Benjamins
Up on my feet at the break of the sun
President of the Gangster Na-tion
We don't go to war we go to the store
We rob from the rich and give to the poor
Hip-hop oh what a bore
Lettin college motherf**kers run the front door
F**k that let's take it back to the streets
Don't let Viacom dictate the heat
The nerve of them I never heard of dem
Askin' me about my urban spins
And if I got about a thousand of them
I'm a crate MC accordin' to them
F**k that
Tomorrow don't you worry about tomorrow that s**t never come
This is very hard to swallow
Keep your hand up on that throttle
We gone right all night right all night
Don't you worry 'bout tomorrow
All hail to the West coast I am the grand wizard
The West coast warlord the future is today
Get your grind on mayne get your grind on mayne
Get your grind on