I’m A Tell-U Kool Keith

People! You're stuck in nineteen seventy-four
Witcha boring producers
Your videos are boring, same girls singin
Everybody tryin to be George Clinto and Jimi Hendrix wannabes
I'm beyong that average cha cha, that trendy Southside music
People don't hate, just motivate

You spent twenty years rappin about diamonds and Dom P
Moet and bubbly, while you front your wife and girlfriend hug me
Studio gangsters lamp at Fort Lee
With transexuals tryin to hide in secret spots in New Jersey
Cats pose in leased double-R's with two-way pagers
Frontin like you like women I seen you on your Motorola
Typin the best places to meet up with Richard Simmons and Jack Lemmon
When you in Cali you hide in the Valley
Rentin the Sheraton suites
Callin young boys that look like Johnny Versace
To meet you at Miami Beach
You wear black all the time, you look wack all the time
Got the nerve to try to pose with a girl, then spit a hard rhyme
Like you run the streets with thugs
And move with brothers who do mad crime

I'm a tell you how I feel
I'm a tell you how I feel
I'm a tell you how I feel
I'm a tell you how I feel