Текст DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince – Worldwide

Intro
Um-hmm, P. Yamz…
(Kenn, what?) This what happens…
when Jeff be leavin niggaz in the studio by theyself y’all..

Baby Blak
Aiyyo.. Puff the dutch, don’t make me fuck shit up
B. Blak bubblin like Alka-Seltzer Plus
Came In the place where my old heads
P. Yamz, mean Code Red
Niggaz don’t learn ’til their nose bled
Throw led, we can go there
Son, I don’t know scared, nowhere
Renaissance man with the pen in my hand
The dough that I get, I choose to spend it on fam
Flow that you spit is like you fittin my pants
Wearin my shoes, washin my clothes, and cookin my food — dependant
I’m independent, nices-es ain’t no crisis
For intervention I write this
All for lighters and spliffs twistin
You up to bat then I’m pitch hittin
Put that ass on the bench like you Mitch Richmond
Keep the pitch switchin
Fast and slow the classic flow, good riddance!
West P to SP, to NP
My flow Jetski on SP and MP
Six os’, spit pros, sick flows
Spittin rounds like a missile, since down to the grizzles
Six ounce gettin penciled, get down with a stencil
No verse one hook, any clown with an issue
Aggressive beef let it rest in peace

Chorus: Raheem DeVaughn
All around the world, people sing this song
They wanna know why (whyyyy whyyyyy)
They wanna know why (whyyyy whyyyyy whyyy)
All around the world, people sing this song (one time)
They wanna know why (whyyyy whyyyyy)
They wanna know why (whyyyy whyyyyy whyyy)

Pauly Yamz
Yo yo yo…
I might fall up in the booth when my motto is heard
Like a inner-city drunk with a bottle of burb
Or the baddest street kid with a bottle to throw
Or the highest weed nigga with a bottle of dro
YO! Paul fell off, man you figure
I’m like Cyrus (CAN YOU DIG ITTTT!!!)
The slow grinder turned co-signer
You just meat, I’m a po-ranha (piranha)
Fo’-fifth in the coat liner, haters strollin, dunn
‘Til I play Tiger Woods and put a hole in one
For the love of bread and gravy
P and Blak like Fred and Grady, still strugglin, hustlin!
(What!) You got paper you can add to us
It been crunch time, end’s tight like Chad Lewis
It’s real life yo, it’s not no game
Like the shit that you spit, naw this not no flame
Lukewarm, disappointin to the kids in your class room
I flow nasty like a rest stop bathroom (What!)
Nice with it I can cut you short
Baby Blak, Pauly Yamz, what the fuck you thought?

Chorus

Pauly Yamz

Yo yo one time, yo, yo, run it down
I’m just an inner city brotha that can turn hard rock
Underrated my whole career like Bernard Hop’
I caught two haters out there and there’s one more left
You like to be number (3) like (Grand Auto Theft)
We underground widdit, with enough loot to lock it
Baby Blak’ll hold your hands while I shoot ya pockets
(Who can stop it?) Long as my crew can profit
I’ma put you to the test whenever we reach the topic

Baby Blak
Aiyyo, I’m used to boxin, giving five to the head
I’m used to chocolates, gettin high with the dreds
I’m used to rockin, anytime anywhere
P. Yamz, B. Blak on stage, thery like «Chyeah!»
Y’all niggaz bullshittin
Run with a (Gang) of (Starrs) and a (Full Clip) in
With a clean change of drawers and ya girl trickin
Thorough thick in the waste, hurl dick in her face
Earl twistin on Ace

Chorus