Lyrics:
Linden Boulevard represent, represent
Tribe Called Quest represent, represent
When the mic is in my hand, I'm never hesitant
My favourite jam back
column, didn't have to cook a rock
A damn goodie two-shoes, that what they call ya
Never judge a person or a book by it's covers
Just because my tone is
a burger
Slipped and became the victim of his own murder hunger
He got put six feet under by a small shorty that was younger
And this type of street
Crenshaw Boulevard, that there's a series of fires
A lot of looting is going on, a disaster area, obviously"
("The jury found that they were all not
and a shot of Black Label
Closed this place down once again
Sittin' here wishin' you'd walk right in
Down my shot, shoot my beer
I ain't gotta go home but I
black or white
Ooh, ooh
Yea, yea, yea now
Ooh, ooh
Yea, yea, yea now
It's black, it's white
It's tough for them to get by
It's black, it's
you
I keep searching for you
Down avenues and boulevards
He flits through cafe's and city bars
I thought i saw him smoking
By a burned out car
He's like
spitter with a pro black agenda
Supported by the black referendum
And this only a sliver of the splendor
Homie it's the sensei
A dope boy with a flow no lo
I took the roof off
Streets so cold I had to defrost
Think fast
Price on my head by default
Woke up in a new car
Badman Wagon
Black and Black
I took
My love asked, "Do you remember
French films made in black and white
Late in the fifties, early sixties
Where night is day and day is night
You know
the effort all in the wrong place
Day by day
Come and get it
Yeah, I think I want it all
Dreaming on about the fancy cars
Putting pressure on the boulevard
nigga, here we
Here we go
Crenshaw Boulevard, everywhеre niggas hard
Left on Vernon by my auntiе's front yard
No disrespect or disregard
Shout out
to the bass, c'mon
Turn up the radio
They claim that I'm a criminal
By now I wonder how
Some people never know
The enemy could be their friend, guardian
at least a grand
Gold on my neck, my pistols close at hand
I'm a self-made monster of the city streets
Remotely controlled by hard hip-hop beats
But just
to black
May my crown never touch the ground
Light years ahead, left the past behind
I know in heavens eyes, the sun always shines
But when the shadows cry
I know dey even got it from the giddy
Stacked in the back
Only black radio station in the city
Programmed by a sucker in a suit
Slick back hair he
when
The world was run by black men
Back to the future
Anything can happen
If these are the last days
And 100-foot waves come crashing down
I get
The reeling figures pass on by
Like ghosts in some forgotten play
Beneath the black and empty sky
Music plays and figures dance
With partners chosen by
While them cats was in the back
Smokin them moolies
I was buildin with the Gods
Who used to wear kufi's
Africa pendents, with sevens on them
Real black
Soundwaves slay out the back, ?cave? smoke
My belly-full prance dance, avalanche quote
Down slope, elegant as Fantasia
Killer whale tale inhale, black male
platinum
We know the presidents are flowin' by who's sackin' them
I'm that type of guy when poppa wasn't happy with it
Trippin' them up, that was my
Linden Boulevard represent, represent
Tribe Called Quest represent, represent
When the mic is in my hand, I'm never hesitant
My favourite jam back
column, didn't have to cook a rock
A damn goodie two-shoes, that what they call ya
Never judge a person or a book by it's covers
Just because my tone is
take her by the hand
Paint it black, all of Pennsylvania Avenue
Bout to take the Oval's desk down to Malibu
In a Maybach while I lay back I got Miley too
.jpg/200px-Sunset_Boulevard_(1950_poster).jpg "Sunset Boulevard")
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