Tour Song Too (feat Sadat X and William Elliott Whitmore)

COOLZEY
 Man I'm always on tour
 At least that's what everybody tells me
 What could I say?
 I guess the power of the people compels me
 My people keep me sane and on top of my game
 Showing me my target so I know where to aim
 and just how far I got to pull back my bow string
 Coolzey I rock the mic but with no bling
 It's no thing
 Just a regular bro thing
 A mic's just one of the many weapons that I'm holding
 You think that you could be me for real?
 Nah, I also got a MPC, a shotty and a skil-saw
 and I still draw, act, write and work on houses,
 wait tables, book shows and flip ounces
 Plus I gotta find time to sleep, eat, catch a flick,
 Exercise, relax, make beats, jerk my dick
 and still have time for wine, women and weed, too
 Yo X, where you going when we pick you up from Jet Blue?
 SADAT X
 I go from continent to country
 State by state
 in the Montana van
 Coolzey's driving, my man
 My software leaves no time to prepare
 You holding out on the weed, dog?
 Blow it in the air
 In the back seat it's share
 Look how I messed up her hair
 But she's old so no pregnancy scare
 I'm rare, untraceable
 Strictly in code
 Shake your ass on down and move your lymph nodes
 WILLIAM ELLIOTT WHITMORE
 We ain't got far to ride
 If we make time, say it's about a day
 Until I'm home
 There will be porches and wine
 My stage life will be miles away
 But I know
 That it won't be too long
 No it won't be too long
 Until I sing that tour song
 No it won't be too long
 I know that my home will be miles away
 So have mercy
 SADAT X
 It's eight bars to the stars
 Me and Coolzey we just won ours
 In America's heartland
 I do my part, man
 because that's what I does
 No particular reason
 Season after season
 Yeah, I be the rapper
 Your girl gets out of line
 What you gonna do?
 Slap her?
 That would be the capper for me sliding in
 Don't you do that my man
 I'll lift her dress like the wind
 COOLZEY
 High of experience and education
 Try to put me in the Days Inn
 Enough excuse for me to cave your face in
 Liquor chasing with the Stella
 Where's hip hop when they won't press up a 12 inch with an a cappella?
 Promoters who front they get beat down
 You love Busta but you never heard of Dinco D and C Brown
 You're like
 How can I be down?
 See clown, you gotta learn to cultivate the renown
 Welcome to Z Town
 Population 88
 Number of personalities I got trapped up in my metal plate
 I like to call a brain
 My wrecking ball and chain
 Crush this industry to rubble until no shitty wall remain
 But is it all in vain?
 How should I know?
 I'm just a Henny sipping Philly hitting wino
 So go ahead and sue me
 I'm just another Rumi
 Drunken poet wooing honey-dips until they do me
 WILLIAM ELLIOTT WHITMORE
 We ain't got far to ride
 If we make time, say it's about a day
 Until I'm home
 There will be porches and wine
 My stage life will be miles away
 But I know
 That it won't be too long
 No it won't be too long
 Until I sing that tour song
 No it won't be too long
 I know that my home will be miles away
 So have mercy