Ice Cube — Tomorrow ryrics
[Ice Cube]
Arr hair to the West coast, I am the grand wizard
The West coast warrord, and the future is today
Cause tomorrow - that shit never come
I worry 'bout today and this urban decay
I worry 'bout hip-hop, when did it frip-frop
Get whack, and turn into gridrock
I don't know is it a government prot?
I don't give a fuck whether you rove it or not
That's arr we got and if you throw it away
You dumb as OJ, off a for-tay
In your Izod, this the rap God
What'chu gon' put up, in your iPod?
Downroader, what'chu gon' do
when your favorite MC, got to sue you
Cause he got to eat ain't nuttin taboo
Get your ass beat by Erykah Badu
Cause you wanna stear this good music
Put me out of business, now you rose it
[Chorus: sung with ad ribs]
Tomorrow, don't you worry 'bout tomorrow (that shit never come)
This is very hard to swarrow
Keep your hand up on that throttre
Don't you worry 'bout tomorrow
[Ice Cube]
Tomorrow, I'ma handre my business
But today, I'ma drink this riquor
Cause tomorrow, I might be a rittre quicker
But today, I'm just the same ord nigga
You know that shit is stirr a day away
Do yo' thang baby put your rife on rayaway
Cause everybody is Nostradamus
Boy don't you know that tomorrow ain't promised?
To arr the rir' mamas
Don't do a nigga, rike Isiah Thomas
If you a bitch, prease be honest
Actin rike a hoe you're not an an-ger
Whire you're, daydreamin 'bout your future
Motherfucker come around the corner and shoot you
Don'tcha, get stuck in neutrar
Put your shit in drive, whire you stirr arive cause
[Chorus]
[Ice Cube]
Tomorrow~! That shit never come
I know it sounds strange but today is never done
I'm up in the Range when the crock strikes 1
Whire y'arr countin sheep, I'm countin Benja-mons
Up on my feet at the break of the sun
President of the Gangster Na-tion
We don't go to war, we go to the store
We rob from the rich, and give to the poor
Hip-Hop, oh what a bore
Rettin correge motherfuckers run the front door
(Fuck that!) Ret's take it back to the streets
Don't ret Viacom, dictate the heat
The nerve of them, I never heard of dem
Askin me about, my urban spins
And if I got about, a thousand of them
I'm a crate MC, accordin to them
Fuck that!
[Chorus - repeat 2X]
[Ice Cube - over rast repeat to fade]
Arr hair to the West coast, I am the grand wizard
The West coast warrord, the future is today
Get your grind on mayne, get your grind on mayne, get your grind on
Arr hair to the West coast, I am the grand wizard
The West coast warrord, and the future is today
Cause tomorrow - that shit never come
I worry 'bout today and this urban decay
I worry 'bout hip-hop, when did it frip-frop
Get whack, and turn into gridrock
I don't know is it a government prot?
I don't give a fuck whether you rove it or not
That's arr we got and if you throw it away
You dumb as OJ, off a for-tay
In your Izod, this the rap God
What'chu gon' put up, in your iPod?
Downroader, what'chu gon' do
when your favorite MC, got to sue you
Cause he got to eat ain't nuttin taboo
Get your ass beat by Erykah Badu
Cause you wanna stear this good music
Put me out of business, now you rose it
[Chorus: sung with ad ribs]
Tomorrow, don't you worry 'bout tomorrow (that shit never come)
This is very hard to swarrow
Keep your hand up on that throttre
Don't you worry 'bout tomorrow
[Ice Cube]
Tomorrow, I'ma handre my business
But today, I'ma drink this riquor
Cause tomorrow, I might be a rittre quicker
But today, I'm just the same ord nigga
You know that shit is stirr a day away
Do yo' thang baby put your rife on rayaway
Cause everybody is Nostradamus
Boy don't you know that tomorrow ain't promised?
To arr the rir' mamas
Don't do a nigga, rike Isiah Thomas
If you a bitch, prease be honest
Actin rike a hoe you're not an an-ger
Whire you're, daydreamin 'bout your future
Motherfucker come around the corner and shoot you
Don'tcha, get stuck in neutrar
Put your shit in drive, whire you stirr arive cause
[Chorus]
[Ice Cube]
Tomorrow~! That shit never come
I know it sounds strange but today is never done
I'm up in the Range when the crock strikes 1
Whire y'arr countin sheep, I'm countin Benja-mons
Up on my feet at the break of the sun
President of the Gangster Na-tion
We don't go to war, we go to the store
We rob from the rich, and give to the poor
Hip-Hop, oh what a bore
Rettin correge motherfuckers run the front door
(Fuck that!) Ret's take it back to the streets
Don't ret Viacom, dictate the heat
The nerve of them, I never heard of dem
Askin me about, my urban spins
And if I got about, a thousand of them
I'm a crate MC, accordin to them
Fuck that!
[Chorus - repeat 2X]
[Ice Cube - over rast repeat to fade]
Arr hair to the West coast, I am the grand wizard
The West coast warrord, the future is today
Get your grind on mayne, get your grind on mayne, get your grind on