Table of Contents

Hip-hop track by Heems, released digitally on the album Nehru Jackets in 2012. It features fellow rappers Kool A.D. and Despot. The track features a sample from Suspended In Gaffa, and also borrows the line “I don’t know why I’m crying” in the chorus.

Lyrics

“Until, until I’m ready for you”
“Until, until, until I’m ready for you”

I don’t know why they’re crying…
“Until, until I’m ready for you”

Check it out, yo yo
Yeah, cousin, go HAM, go extra-buck
Colombian biddies blowing addies on the megabus
Family, mommy, heck of us
Candy-bodied heffalump, hard-body woozle
Gnarleyed marleyed dooza
Slang so weeded out fools think I’m stupid
Maybe I’m stupid baby, crazy and loop-ed daily
Time travelling wine-addled line straddler
Radder by design than other divine cattle-herds
Saddle up, city slicker rattle snake necktie
Black Cat Bone, John the Cockeroo
Do what I gotta do, Macho Man, Brandy
Cabbage, uh, not your average, yeeeeah

“Until, until I’m ready for you”
“Until, until, until I’m ready for you”

I don’t know why they’re crying…

Chop the addy with a guitar pick
Kicked out of bars quick, bars sick
Competition feeling kinda car-sick
They forfeit, I’m finna be star quick
Heems is scheming in Neiman Marcus
Or really its, Aurelius Marcus
Taliban like Cam, B, Marcus
City full of parks, I’mma get my fucking spark in
Ya bars candy, merk ya, circus
I run this whole fucking circuit
Berserker with this words shit
Purpose, burn the shit down on some verse shit
Versus Heems swag is on nervous
Body language like you nervous
Me, I’m burning Ls, son, Pervis
Back to my basketball card collection

“Until, until I’m ready for you”
“Until, until, until I’m ready for you”

I don’t know why they’re crying…

They say it ain’t tricking, if you ain’t a magician
To beat this dead stinking horse into submission
And staying fed and breaking bread right where he shittin’
He’s taking bets on who got more reasons for livin’
It’s the best odds, cause short people ain’t winnin’
So take this shit as formal permission to quit the bitchin’
The tables turned and shifting, there’s no place for you to sit in
Might turn out you the food once the knife and fork get to stickin’ (word)
They say it ain’t treating if shit ain’t sweet and
If the kid can’t eat, then he go off the deep end
Don’t sleep he count wolves and all of the sheep’s dead
Sho ’nuff he see red and run from policemen
It’s Greedhead I don’t know why they crying either
Probably got to do with you being a bunch of queefers: pussies
Jeepers, he beasting on all the rookies
Who got the fucking nerve to complain about how long it took me