Lyrics:
hear
I make 'em scream
When I come true with the rest of the team
I get it pop-in mainstream, still I'm the best in the scene
So I can understand why
view of my obstacles in my opticals
Breaking down the game like a molecule
With this album no flopping failing ain’t optional
Ten toes down to move
intro: this is a public service announcement or call to action to the representatives of the black community we're in a state of emergency we need
all black
All chrome, black-owned
Black tints, matte black
Walked by, my window down, let 'em see who in it
Crack a big smile (ding)
Go figure, me
sons, leak shit, we come wit tons
You could never see these ones, just our mothafuckin guns
[Chorus] 2x
[All] M-I-double-S-I-N Linx, Missin In Action
like me but they can't
So they dress and they act like me
Niggas talk tough on the net
But in real life any action happening is not likely
touch her toes
Gymnastics around the pole
Hole in one, we playing golf
Now eenie meenie, back to your toes
Want that action, want that passion
Want that D
They just want me rappity rapping and cappity capping
I'm trapped in a loop
I'm surrounded by the people who dapping me up
They snakes, I was bred in
wrist, look like a package of piss
Looked like they pissed, in a ice cube tray
Put it in the freezer, so by the next day
They could put it on my wrist,
Vandross' 1994 interpretation of The Impossible Dream The Quest written by Joe Darion in 1966
The lyric phrase "proud" is a nod to the motivational call by
Look like
Dirty Dancing
Silhouettes Singing
Lights
Camera
Action
See our Shadows
In the Dark
Look like
Dirty Dancing
Darker than Black
My 50 Shades
For my theme song
My leather black jeans on
My by any means on
Pardon, I'm getting my scream on
Enter the kingdom
But watch who you bring home
living decisions different from mine
Young and black, they look at it as if it’s given
Thinking I would give in to the stigma set on how we’re living
cooties (Damn)
She don't think about all her actions, all the shit she's done
Too many of these black boys dying by the fucking gun (Pop, pop)
Niggas want
your son," girl, don't trip about it
Walk up in with apple sauce and broccoli
Little Bobby, better eat your greens, boy, don't give me lip about it
devil's gold in my '69 Chevelle
Watching flames in the mirror, taking Cole back to hell for those
Sweet black Cherry lips
Sweet black Cherry hips
Sweet
clip
She tripping and giving me lip
Then we make it up in the whip
If you know me you know I got good intentions from the core
And they're saying I'm too
rosy man
Oh is that your chick
Why she all in his six?
With her hand on his dick
Keep licking her lips
Is that your chick?
Why she all in his
friend was killed by a drunk driver
The guy got out of his car
And shot my friend in the face
'Cause I'm beginning to feel
Like a black god, black guy
the NAACP
Getting money yeah I let the cat out
I get any sicker then I'm probably gonna pass out
In the studio cause they sleep on me like the black couch
the NAACP
Getting money yeah I let the cat out
I get any sicker then I'm probably gonna pass out
In the studio cause they sleep on me like the black couch
try to tell them, "We're all in this together!"
My album was raw because no-one would ever
Think like I think and do what I do
I stole the show,
"We're all in this together!"
My album was raw because no one would ever
Think like I think and do what I do
I stole the show, and then I leave without
to tell them, "We're all in this together!"
My album was raw because no-one would ever
Think like I think and do what I do
I stole the show, and then I
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