It's the caffeine, the nicotine, the milligrams of tar
It's my habitat it needs to be cleaned
It's my car
It's the fast talk they use, to abuse and feed my brain
It's the catbox (?), it needs to be changed
It's women, it's the plight for power, it's government
It's the way you giving knowledge slow with thought control and subtle hints
It's rubbin it, itchin it
It's applyin cream, it's the foreignors sight-seein with high beams
It's in my dreams
It's the monsters that I conjure, it's the marijuana
It's the embarassment, displacement, its where I wander
It's my genre, it's Madonna's videos, it's game shows
It's cheap liquor, blunts, it's bumper stickers with rainbows
It's angels, demons, gods
It's the white devils
It's the monitors, the soundman, its the muthaufckin mike levels
It's gas fumes, fast food, Tommy Hil, mommy's pill, Columbia House music clubs, designer drugs and rhymin thugs
It's bloods, crips, fives, six
It's stick-up kids, it's Christian conservative terrorists
It's porno flicks
It's the east coast, no it's the west coast
It's public schools, it's asbestos, it's menthaladed (?), it's techno
It's sleep, life, and death
It's speed, coke, and meth
It's hay fever, pain relievers, oral sex, and smoker's breath
It stretches far as the eye can see
It's reality, fuck it
It's everything but me

Chorus
On and on and on and on, the list goes (4x)

It's the water, it's in the air, it's in the meat
It's indirect, indiscrete, incosistent, incomplete
It's in the streets
Every city, everywhere you go
In every man, it's the insanity, the fantasies, the casualties
It's the health care system, it's welfare victims
It's assault weapons, it's television religion, and it's false lessons
It's cops, police, pigs with badges, guns, and sticks
It's harassment and a complex you carry when you're runnin shit
It's wonderin if you get to eat, it's the heat
It's the winter, the weather, it's herpes and it's forever
It's the virus that takes the lives of the weak and the strong
It's the drama that keeps on between me and my seed's mom
It's the need to speak long
It's that hunger for attention
It's the wack who attack songs of redemption
It's prevention
It's the first solution (?)--------(?) retribution, it's mental pollution, and public execution
It's the nails, that keep my hands and feet to these boards
It's the part time job that governs what you can afford
It's the fear, it's the fake, it's clear it can make time stop and leave you stranded in the year of the snake
It's the dollar, yen, pound, it's all denominations
It's hourly wages for your professional observations
It's in on your face, and it's in your eyes everything you be
Cuz it ain't me, muthafucker, cuz it ain't me