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Opening Credits
De La Soul
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Yo, I'm tellin' you man, we can do this, man, it'll be easy
C'mon man, prison is a college dorm, an all-girls college dorm
With two chicks in it who wanna give us some ass
(What?) Ho, one bitch wanna give us some ass
Yeah, that's my man Jacob
We all called him Pop
For the longest, we been callin' him Pop
Shit, I never called P anything else but that
I heard he got the name from his addiction to poppin' bubble wrap
Should've been 'cause he popped a lot of shit
Man, you know what my moms would do if I let you back in
That's my nigga D, short for Dean
Known each other since grade four
And I've been cheatin' off his homework since grade five
Yes, sir, best friends ever since then
I guess I'm the yang to the nigga yin
'Cause I always take chances, while he always playin' it safe
Yeah, we're different
But the differences seem to complement everything we do
Yo, Dean Witter, pa, major investment
The first of the little like a Georgetown mascot
And you Toto stuck in a basket
And momma made a man of bein' stuck with a bastard
Ha, good lord, I was alone in the womb
So I came out too soon as a preemie
Just so you could see me
The D-me is to be the life of the jam
Pop Life, y'all, that's who I am
Yes, sir, crown study, it's that old boy grad
Got up out the hood, I want that doughboy bag
Me and P signed the merger, raise that index bar
Stay heavy like a brand new Chevy truck
What the fuck? I'm not a dreadlocked rasta
Just an asshole crashin' through the Mazda
I proceeded to unjam the door
Limped to the drive-thru, ordered a number four
Drive-thru hoppin', parking lot practice
Thou spit the verses as if he begot this
Lack this? Most do
So toast the two who have 'nough actions to back this
From the inner-city blues to that cactus green
We gon' stir a bit of milk until we make it cream
Full steam ahead, we ahead of the curve
It's Dean Witter
Pop Life
Who want the first serve?
Yeah, that shit is crazy
Yo, yo, the cuts could go right here, right here
Fuckin' ding-ass jam after Jake type cuts and shit
Ayo, we should get like about three girls to sing on this shit
(Why you gotta always get chicks?)
Sing it, man, all the niggas do that
Yo, that's your mom's name?
Open the door, who locked this door?
Open this damn door, Dean
Who locked this door? (That was you, that was you)
Dean Lamont Witter (Yeah, ma)
What you doin' down there? You drinkin' gin and juice?
I'm smokin' this weed
Nigga, put the weed away, she might come down here
Nigga, don't be so fuckin' scared
You better not be down there smokin' that
I done taken them ecstasies and Jalils
Yo, your moms, do you do X?
Hell no, nigga, you crazy
So what the fuck is Jalil?
It's all good, she just likes Houdini
Houdini?
Uh, it's just ecstasy, Miss Witter
Who the fuck is that? Maurice?
Nah, it's Jacob, Miss Witter
Jacob? (Yeah)
Aw, hell, Mary, come with me
What do we have here now? (Oh, she's drunk)
Y'all down there rappin', you still at it, huh?
Two fools with a college education
What they say? It was all a dream, wasn't it?
I guess y'all two down there still asleep
I ain't sneeze your little ass outta me
So you gon' get shot over some East Coast, West Coast pork
It's actually beef, Miss Witter
Shut the fuck up, Maurice
It's Jacob, Miss Whitter (What?)
Not John, not John (Oh, I know your name, boy)
Not Joey, Jacob (Now hold on, let me tell you somethin')
Even though he know his sister very well
What you need, what you need to do
Is to go wrap your ass around a Job Corps
And don't let go, you heard me?
Now open this door, Dean
Open this door, Dean
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