Lyrics:
No
If you must know
my black lungs spit dust bowl
Over gun beats with gusto
Clutch doe and huff rust-o
You're picket fence and grass yards
I'm
the heart.
When suckers tried to crash my shit straight from start.
A young black kid destined for success, no Old Gold, no cocaine, or Buddha cess.
boo
Yo, if you love to wear black
You could be my boo
Even if you on section 8
You still could be my boo
Yeah, you don't have to have your own
and Pimp see you know they down wit us
Black Rob and Eightball, down wit us
M.J.G. you know he down wit us
B-Legit and E-Feezie down wit us
My nigga
thrill, we do what we feel
Any time or place, on stage in ya face
Over tea in Earth and outer space
Because we rock that shit, we flip that shit
Some
control, then ya turn 'round, take you by surprise
Takin trips hours on a drive, Dozin off very sleepy eyed
God knows in my journeys how many times I shoulda
clap, we got dope in
My nigga Snoop got some hoes in
Uhhh, Uhhh,
Seen her for some black sauce in gripping secret
Can't wait till we get them butt
, the complete lock and beat stop
Now all the horny heffers wanna dangle on my er
Down by the dungeon with the cracks on the wall
Buffoon I’m like a mink while
so bad every night you get shit faced
No need to drink anymore cause Jonah's back
The only white Jonah for the last time I'm not black
Leap in for
Archie Lee don't play by my name
Woo-hoo, baby, don't reach for my chain
Got a new Glock, so I hit the range
Lil' bad bitch, she from out of the States
pretentious
Ain't with the pretend shit
Everything superficial
Why you acting big headed?
Lookin' like Stewie Griffin
Wide eyed like a Simpson
Eyes low when I'm
but I paid my dues
And now no one out there could fill my shoes
And my pants and do this dance
This shit didn't happen by chance
It went slow not
to the roof clutchin my four-four
open up the door, yo guess who I saw (Who?)
Black and Deaf now, ain't this proper
Guns drawn full of tef toward
Of this lyrical labyrinth
Who's more concerned about what's about to be than what has been
My biggest fear is speaking too highly about shit in past tense
the 50 cent cocoa
Ice, ice, me baby
Cause the Black Sheep Dres be up on the scene
Let the top down, turn up the sound
Got my hands in the air
Cause my
im clairvoyant irrespective of my eye sight
check the credits, C. Coleman, ghost writer,
for a cheque ill even make your shit tighter
your eyed black
Love doing bitches with pink lips, call me Padre
Talk shit with a gun in my hand call me cockay
Did this straight, bricks ain't large
Bricks for weight,
to driving the latest jags
To rock rags made by Italian fags
See, I never meant to fall in love with this shit
But Miss Ghetto you's a slut so I'm divorcing
I ain't surprised
Another black man killed by a black
Man with another gun but
I guess sums up every homicide
Every drive-by, every bullet fired
you could do this
Oh we about to rock this collab joint right here. Akshon
Yeah
Bless the mic
Bringin it back and kickin a beat so that you shit your
him
DMX wanna get down, well, you tell, homie
I'm on that Treach shit, I do my dirt all by my lonely
I should rob Clue, man, his shit did well
I
It's time you know
I been flowing insane since before Black Reign
If it sound mundane then it can't be Sho
Made a album with my wife
We was talking bout
know me, man
It's time you know
I been flowing insane since before Black Reign
If it sound mundane then it can't be Sho
Made a album with my wife
We was
got a call from Mama
Auntie passed, it's raining
Send my cousin my love I'm outside praying
Raw papers blazing
Humbly patient this what I live by
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