He want bigger and better and higher and larger and more shit
Peaches and cream, to each man his dream
Harvest crops and props, teach his
Seeds how to throw dice and pick lock
'Cause I wish you knew the issue, it's all wallet politics
Done it, done it, seen it, seen it and he seen it done
No opposition to none 'cause they remember
That story 'bout him putting some fool's hand in a blender
'Cause first things first, got to hold his down like clutch purse
And school his team like Vince Lombardi, noble cause
From seed to street, entrepreneur genius
They tried to take him under federal conspiracy laws, probable cause
Damn, that's Rick the Man, with the master plan
Somebody told me to deliver this message
Pass it on, pass it on
Somebody told me to deliver this message
Pass it on, pass it on
It was the 7th of July, seven hairs have
Moved like out of place so he brushed it
Rushed it straight on to the front door
Took four steps, then he took one more
He rocked Timbos from his ankles to his big toes
Couldn't get caught without the flyest of apparel
He knew the scoop on everybody from me to Geraldine Ferraro
First love was a Ferrari, he played more games than your average Atari
He said, "Call me Rick, but really I ain't the ruler
Dips call me often and pops, he call me Junior"
Loco at times, I am the cream of crops, Rick cleaned up props
Had the school Imperials on his materials
Everybody jockin' so you know the scenario
'Cause if he heard verbal, not a word he'd utter
If he spoke fast, not a word he'd stutter
He never slipped into the pit of a gutter
'Cause cousins butter, you know there ain't another brother similar
He got into the scene with open hands
And his love for lucci got him the booty, but no
Somebody told me to deliver this message
Pass it on, pass it on
Looking at the ceiling fan spin reminds him of memories
Of when he can't rest 'til he buries these
So he lays alone in his room
When his head hits the bed, he sees visions of being dipped
I guess you never know a good thing 'til you lost it
Tossed it, the limelight with paparazzi
Get a grip, don't trip, think 'cause if you trip
Your slippin' pinstripes wasn't his shit
So I guess he got a reason
So he grabbed a number nine to define gettin' even
His definition was this, a death wish
Kissed Tish and told Chachi to hold the mayo
Peyo peyo was the sound of the auto
But little did he know another brick would be his motto
In the wall stretched limos and rows of eyes
In disguise like stained glass windows
With more flowers than I ever seen, got the Visine
For the scene, you know, easy come, easy go
You may think it kind of strange
Since the beginning, God's been giving
And the angel's been taking back
Somebody told me to deliver this message
Pass it on, pass it on
Somebody told me to deliver this message
Pass it on, pass it on
Pass it on
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