Had A Dream, I Was King, I

Nuts They Go, Macadamia They Go So Ballistic, Whoa.

His Palms Are Sweaty, Knees Weak, Arms Are Heavy There's Vomit On His Sweater Already, Mom's Spaghetti He's Nervous, But On The Surface He Looks Calm And Ready To Drop Bombs, But He Keeps On Forgettin' What He Wrote Down, The Whole Crowd Goes So Loud He Opens His Mouth, But The Words Won't Come Out He's Chokin', How, Everybody's Jokin' Now The Clocks Run Out, Times Up, Over, Blaow!

Nothing On 'relapse' And Very Little On 'recovery' Was Produced By Me.

Say There's A White Kid Who Lives In A Nice Home, Goes To An All-white School, And Is Pretty Much Having Everything Handed To Him On A Platter - For Him To Pick Up A Rap Tape Is Incredible To Me, Because What That's Saying Is That He's Living A Fantasy Life Of Rebellion.

The Emotions In A Song - The Anger, Aggression - Have Got To Be Legitimate.