Ice Cube - Tomorrow Lyrics

Writer(s) : Campbell, Warryn / Jackson, O'Shae
Artist: Ice Cube Lyrics
Popularity : 48 users have visited this page.
Album: Track 14 on Raw Footage
Rate: Tomorrow gets avg. rating 8 out of 10 based on 2 ratings. Rate the song now!!!

All hail to the West coast, I am the grand wizard
The West coast warlord, and the future is today

Cause tomorrow, that **** never come
I worry 'bout today and this urban decay
I worry 'bout hip-hop, when did it flip-flop
Get whack, and turn into gridlock
I don't know is it a government plot?
I don't give a **** whether you love it or not
That's all we got and if you throw it away
You dumb as OJ, off a forty
In your Izod, this the rap God
What you goin' put up, in your iPod?
Downloader, what you go/in' do
When your favorite MC, got to sue you
Cause he got to eat ain't nothin' taboo
Get your *** beat by Erykah Badu
Cause you wanna steal this good music
Put me out of business, now you lose it

Tomorrow, don't you worry about tomorrow (that **** never come)
This is very hard to swallow
Keep your hand up on that throttle
Don't you worry 'bout tomorrow

Tomorrow, I'ma handle my business
But today, I'ma drink this liquor
Cause tomorrow, I might be a little quicker
But today, I'm just the same old *****
You know that **** is still a day away
Do yo' thing baby put your life on layaway
Cause everybody is Nostradamus
Boy don't you know that tomorrow ain't promised?
To all the lil' mamas
Don't do a *****, like Isiah Thomas
If you a *****, please be honest
Actin' like a hoe you're not an an-gel
While you're, daydreaming 'bout your future
************ come around the corner and shoot you
Don't you, get stuck in neutral
Put your **** in drive, while you still alive cause


Tomorrow! That **** never come
I know it sounds strange but today is never done
I'm up in the Range when the clock strikes 1
While y'all countin' sheep, I'm countin' Benjamins
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
Lettin college ************s run the front door
(**** that!) Let's take it back to the streets
Don't let 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
**** that!

[Chorus: x2]

All hail to the West coast, I am the grand wizard
The West coast warlord, the future is today
Get your grind on man, get your grind on man, get your grind on

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Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group
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