Lyrics Jay Electronica – The Shiny Suit Theory
Text:
Jay Electronica:
One two, one two
Uh, yeah
I’m sailing on a cloud, they trailing below
I pack up all my sins and I wear ’em to the show
And let ’em go, let ’em go, let ’em go, let ’em go
Chorus:
I’m sailing on a cloud, they trailing below
My shrink told me it’s a feeling they’ll never know
I pack up all my sins and every L that I blow
And let ’em go, let ’em go, let ’em go, let ’em go
In the land before time, a land before altar boys
Synagogues and shrines, man was in his prime
Look how far I go in time just to start a rhyme
The method is sublime
You get blessed with every line
I’m in touch with every shrine from Japan to Oaxaca
Your melonated, carbon-dated, phantom of the Chakras
Me and Puff, we was chilling in Miami
He said «Nigga fuck the underground,
You need to win a Grammy
For your mama and your family,
They need to see you shined up
You built a mighty high ladder, let me see you climb up
Nigga, what you scared of?
Terrorize these artificial rap niggas and spread love
Pollinate the ear buds
Like you supposed to, spit it for the culture
Pay no attention to the critics and the vultures
They cast the judgments ’cause they feel they got the right to»
Fuck ’em, I let the dice roll like my father did
I gotta shine, it’s in my blood, I’m a Harlem kid
I treat my babies right, treat my ladies ladylike
Hit ’em with a remix, then make sure that they play me twice
I thought you said it’s the return of the black kings
Luxurious homes, fur coats and fat chains
Chorus
Jay-Z:
In this manila envelope, the results of my insanity
Quack said I crossed the line between real life and fantasy
Can’t it be the same, went on covers with Warren Buffett
Was ducking the undercovers, was warring with motherfuckers
Went from warring to Warren, undercovers to covers
If you believe in that sort of love, your screws need adjusting
In the World of no justice and black ladies on the back of buses
I’m the Immaculate Conception of rappers slash hustlers
My God, it’s so hard to conceive
But it all falls perfect, I’m like autumn is to trees
Uh, the doc interrupted
He scribbled a prescription for some Prozac
He said «take that for your mustard»
Boy, you must be off your rocker if you think you’ll make it off the strip
Before they pop ya,
Nigga you gotta be psychotic or mixing something potent with your vodka
It takes a lot to shock us but you being so prosperous is preposterous
How could this nappy headed boy from out the project
Be the apple of America’s obsession?
You totally disconnected with reality, don’t believe in dreams
Since when did black men become kings?
The-Dream:
You have no idea
The means to what I say
And you have no idea
Of how I got this way
Now, fear my dreams
And by the time you wake
I’ll look down from the clouds
See, I’m on my way
Chorus