Verse 1
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Swollen pockets, inflation of pocksectomy
caught from constant sweatin' of me which i fought
with anti-perspirant
a total loss, cuz it only works when
sweat is physical not mental
and when its mental potential disorder
like h20 = water
it's sorta on the border of the vapors
one day, chillin' at green acres
me and the fellas just cruisin' through
sound system blastin' as usual
i saw this chick, she was legit, she was wit'
the pillsbury dough boy, i mean her boyfriend
she played him like a marshmellow
when she said, "oh gosh! there go phase!"
and rushed me like a quarterback
asked me for my autograph, i laughed
pulled out my pen, asked her where she wanted it
she lifted up her shirt and said "write it on my stomach"
swollen pockets...
Verse 2
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How can i make a livin'?
sellin' drugs, performin' at clubs
or makin' license plates in prison?
i chose b) see? so now i'm good to g-o
where's the brother with my dough?
he tried to snow me in a sum of miami
he d-e-efinitely gets a eye jammy, word to granny
i speak the truth, ask dr. ruth
westheimer, unless you're kinda
funny, honey, speak to a comedian
cuz you're disobedient
i'm on a f-train, or you might see me in a blazer
with phase written on the side and
slippin' and slidin' in sauce
writing with force
rhythm take control, it's yours
swollen pockets...
Verse 3
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You sniff and sneeze and cough
and (?) medicine
tylenol, excederin
dristan and buffrin, didn't do nothin'
i'm still suffering
i'm not a star, cuz stars seem to fall
like kareem abdul-jabbar i stand tall
and high, but keep a low pro'
i'm not a baker, but i still roll the dough
i'm solo, single, i like to mingle
pockets bulked like hulk, played by lou ferrigno
i'm sick of this, it's gettin' quite ridiculous
you're sweatin' me, gettin' me steamed, makin' it seem
like i'm arrogant, conceited and obnoxious
it's not my fault, it's the result of swollen pockets...