Okay class, now as you know
Excuse me, nah, fuck all that!
The motherfucking Poison Clan is up for bad
I'm Debonaire, the devil's dad
Everybody take a seat, get your pen and pad
Very good, you're doing excellent so far
Now it's time to begin the seminar
Today's teacher is Deb and J.T
Lesson number one, a nigga must be a real bad influence, I mean funny
Turn a good kid into a schoolyard bunny
Make him steal cars from Jags to Benz'
Maybe even sell some chips to gangsters
I'll buy a couple of keys and make sales
Get the fast money, get in and out of jail
I got it good, that's the way I am
I'm too rude to say "Yes man, I give a damn!"
About a parent or guardian since
Debonaire is a real bad influence!
Bad son of a bitch
Check it out, I'm called a bad influence also
And to tell the truth, you should all know
But still, take my advice
And go play dice, hijack a heist
Be a criminal, an ice cold G
And trifle with the rifle shootin' police
Bein' rich, you got to be sharp as a knife, I'm spoiled rotten
Never worked a day in my life
I got paid with a blade, and caught with a gauge
But they couldn't do me nothing I was underage
So yo, you should never ever have fear, cause they can't front with you in your juvenile years
And besides, even if they try that shit
You're a bad motherfucker, you can deal with it
I turn nice school boys into a group of thugs
This'll strain your brain, like cocaine, worthy drug
And I saw those who've been convinced, JT's what you call a bad influence!
Bad son of a bitch
Niggas admired me once I spoke
My advice is compell and provoke
Any brother on the block can be a hood
Sell dope on the corner, not to be good
Parents be wanting kids to be nerds
But Debonaire says that's for the birds
Like gettin' a job, workin' hard for food
What you need's a flashlight and burglary tools
Drop out of school, get a G-E-D
Get on welfare, cause that's cash for free
On the side, you're gonna need a tax-free income
Just like me and old Deb might think 'em
Stupid or ignorant you must be jealous
Parents don't never mean a word they tell us
The ones I found out ever since
I've been a real bad influence!
Bad son of a bitch
What the hell is a natural high, that's fiction
Believe us, they all fear meth addiction
You gotta be trippin' off a sense of budder
Speed or crack, it's word to my mother
You can't work bossed-up like consequences
Jump off roofs, climb barb-wire fences
It's too late to straighten up, because you blew it
If smoking crack makes you feel good, do it
Snortin' a little budder, ain't about nothing
Say no to drug campaigns, they be frontin'
Thinking you stupid, they just playing the twelves
But we know, they want all the drugs for themselves
So to hell with them, well you don't have to quit
I'll bank all those, who smoke the shit
Start robbing old people and things of that sort
Cause ain't shit illegal until you get caught
And it's alright to list your sins
JT is what you call a bad influence!
Bad son of a bitch
Bad son of a bitch
Bad son of a bitch
Bad son of a bitch