Lyrics:
there's whites, separated by the green
After five hundred years, think we play for the same team
Smokescreen, make the president a black guy
It ain't no
rap
But no Source never made me not buy an album
When they said it was wack
I walk in the party and just start bustin'
Right after I hear the last
die genocide the cause
Expect a blood bath
The aftermath is y'alls
I told ya last album, we need help cause we dying
Give us a chance, help us
I'm under pressure the stress will have me drinkin
thinkin niggaz after me much too paranoid to blink
Wonder why the police don't want to see me
Rollies busted down in water does just how I live
The police on my review mirror hit the guys and leave
I mixed the white with ham hammer just
the killers dwell
Now I hope my album sell
To a place where we die for our street
Or we die by police
Mamas watching us get carried away
To a place where we
the stage by the police station
I dunno what the hell wrong with all these pigs
Another police touch me and I'm gonna sue him again
He might have been broke,
real.
I'm 'bout to do my thing to shine.
Said everybody
Shine.
See'mon."
It's not luck that I'm sittin' here
Spittin' for y'all.
Preeld in by
and all my fans are feelin it
Bitch got a bad habit, go away with the next I'm cool with it
Back on the grind or back on the mic put that album on repeat
a couple of Rosarios
DJ Quik and Suga Free on the stereo
I'm the king of the area - barrio Barbarian
Interrupted by my bitch asking if we can go
ain't got to get all extremely too personal on your albums
When you not surrounded by bigger artists to fucking boost you
Nigga you called me, I didn't
still flame
But they love you on the come-up 'cause you ain't tainted by fame
And you still they little secret
That's the type of bullshit that they
I'm under pressure the stress will have me drinkin
thinkin niggaz after me much too paranoid to blink
Wonder why the police don't want to see me
Police radio signals sayin' that a 187 land on your corner
Coroners comfort your mama
"Mama he's dead", the next morning I toasted up with my homies
We
Yeah, this album is dedicated
To all the teachers
That told me I'd never amount to nothin'
To all the people that lived above
The buildings that I
1 yeah
This album is dedicated to all the teachers
That told me I'd never amount to nothin'
To all the people that lived above
The buildings that I
your greed?
Maybe I’m sick of this shit, maybe I’m quitting this shit
Maybe after a year making the album, I was never pleased
But me being good in your
or album and they Gon flock
Anybody make a scene might Get popped
I just load the mic and go song For song
Show to show till the check Drops
Yeah
Shoes
Well let me brief
Ima murder you like I did the chief of police
Run off and shoot up NBD
Take the money and run
Go by some tight ass Detroit chron
Get
at least two hundred years
To stop the rush of blood
But even now, they march the streets
They claim to keep the peace
Fascists, protected by police
Will
at least two hundred years
To stop the rush of blood
But even now, they march the streets
They claim to keep the peace
Fascists, protected by police
Will
me I seen you by the corner you had a straw hat
And dressed like Tom Sawyer now I'm bout to call the police so they can
Haul ya down to the station
could've
Put me under the prison
My recent run ins with police
Has got me under suspicion
I bet they never find me
Guilty under my own admission
This shit is
on your fucking wall, necklace-wearing bitch
You don't want this money till it's rich
Buy my album, coded by Dirty, set you free
Go against the grain, I
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