Lyrics:
straight
I like South Beach but I'm in Saint Tropez
Y'all drink Dom but not Rosé (hey)
Your chick shop at the mall
My chick burnin' down Bergdorf'S
straight
I like South Beach but I'm in Saint Tropez
Y'all drink Dom but not Rosé (hey)
Your chick shop at the mall
My chick burnin' down Bergdorf'S
there hunchin' in my downstairs bathroom
And in the kitchen and up in there on the dancefloor
By the big screen TV, where your pants go? (y'all nasty)
George Floyd
Say her name
Breonna Taylor
Hey Hey
(Hands up)
Ho Ho
(Don’t shoot)
These racist cops have got to go
(Hands up, Don’t shoot)
Hey Hey
noticed the diamond in the gem, oh no
I put my heart in it, y'all don't know that
The passion I have in, every moment
Aye, this ain't for show, y'all
I give
Yeah, I was on that corner, tryna get my coins up
Coppers run up on us and we turn to Jackie Joyner
White man kill a black man, they never report
know yall
Figured out who I'll be in a long while
I've been activated I'm infatuated by the man they said I can't be
Now that I think about it that deep
bitches, they my real niggas
It's like working four jobs not to kill niggas
My little niggas love to ride by and spill niggas
If y'all fell out over some
back to the early eighties
When my cousin Stacey had the pearl Mercedes
My aunt cousin Wack had the black on black
Ac' coupe Legend with the gold in
Is this mic on?
Hey, Hey! Hey-hey-hey! Turn the mic up, c'mon, c'mon
Is the mic on or not? I want the mic
We're bringing up nobody, nobody
Nobody
and she's down with The Roots crew, and she go by
The name of Miss Jill Scott
I want y'all to put y'all hands together
Uh, uh, say what? Give it up
Gurley
Say His Name
Gabriella Nevarez
Say Her Name
Tamir Rice
Say His Name
Say His Name
Say His Name
These are just a few of the Black americans killed by
more about moderation and modern day shit
Let's learn black love, take it back by the basis
We ain't even gotta fake shit
Beautiful black women, help
on the rickenbock-er
Hold up for a second a need a sip of water [Missy!]
If y'all in need of lessons just sit in observe
Drive by sliming you get hurt in the cudi
While
Ain't no love in Oakland, bitch
Niggas always talkin bout 'I love you'
But ain't no love, bitch
Now it's a shame, I can't be saved by John
Yea. They’ trained to go.
If you don’t know, well, I bet that you know now. (know now) Hey!
We from the bottom. Ain’t scared if it go down.
Written by
the evil black man
Spouting lies
I'm grateful for her blatant lies coz
Transmutation
It's my soul that's learning through it all
Yeah, yeah, yeah - y'all
in part
By Max Payne sawed off
Dodge 'em in slow mo
No homi's in Oak Park
You late as Peter Parker with a pizza
I'm so far
Ahead I'm like Mozart
what I'm wearin' all black for
For comrades who done fought without me
It's not to try and change y'all thoughts about me
Or to redirect your reports
a mental giant to those whom nay say
Oh oh oh oh oh
Hey! hey!
Mentally I'm like Shaq on stilts
Strange music inc is white 'n' black 'n' build
For
game,
But hey it’s cool y’all, ranges and lacks,
On them things.
Do what you do dog, I can’t hate, because that’s crazy,
My time to precious to be sitting
Yeah, I was on that corner, tryna get my coins up
Coppers run up on us and we turn to Jackie Joyner
White man kill a black man, they never report
aint trying to make y'all dance
I aint tryna
I aint trying to make y'all dance
Fuck that
I aint trying to make y'all dance
I aint tryna
I aint trying
body bag
Sambos in my body bag
Put all y'all ass in the bag like dat
Queue the urban symphony
Poured bourbon you finna be
A memoir of fu memories
You
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