Lyrics:
Then Beef You Get Murk Your Friend Then Plead The Fifth
Two Girls On My Face So I'm Still Tike My Fucking Self
Im The Last Real Nigga Left Man Theres
a black man's gonna come and get ya
Time to check the facts
National crime on the whole's been declining since the early 1990's
So keep breathing, relax
your history man
I'm Fred Hampton mixed with Marcus Garvey
Quick to turn a racist to a fucking martyr
Feel this Black reign that's the Black power
Fuck
flamenco, so I take the train, como paella en barcelona spain
Next swing by the home, of Vasco da Gama, Lisboa portugal for a photo panorama
Over
American Dream, yeah my grandma used to pray for it
Growing up with nothing in a country that doesn't pay for it
Had to walk for miles just to keep
doesn't pay.'"
"I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth."
"President Franklin D. Roosevelt stricken late today."
"Who's
the proceeding
Eve deceived Adam and got him thrown out of Eden
And Delilah dam Samson should have known
The strongest man blind and whipped, getting crushed by
Train, not American Bandstand
The bigger nigga is back and I'm on the right track
As a matter of fact, I'm all that
So ring around the Rosie,
as the eye could see
I saw a man - he had a plow in his hand
And he said, "What will become of me?"
Indian maid, why do you stand so still
By the streams
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
so I ain't feeling Bush overseas
I think with the wisdom of Malcolm, got the soul of a panther
So "By Any Means" is the anthem, you gon' have to cut me
Put the guarder on pumps, push the broom up they ass
Or the knife like American me, American Sig' is Muslim
So I ain't feelin' Bush overseas
I
is Muslim
So I ain't feelin' Bush overseas
I think with the wisdom of Malcolm, got the soul of a panther
So by any means is the anthem
You gonna have
You might think you do but you don't know
It's like a dream come true
But you don't know
Man I promise, I'm so self-conscious
That's why you always
7/25/93 I was born
A Filipina American dream scorned
Defeating White Man's greed is my chore
A Mixed Race legacy and lore
7/25/93 I was born
muitos rappers nos nossos dias do hip-hop
Fizz you know you stupid bombaclat
Oh shit, flow pesados man, so sick
Vim da Margem, aqui de passagem
Falam
(One, two, one, two, three)
Pouring snow and six degrees, American cowboy on his knees
Speak your lies so easily, like you had done so recently
You
own can't handle it
Hand on chin to keep my head up
Ain't no time to kick my feet up
Barely get to roll my weed up
Stole my art supplies
Had to get by
But when it comes to
Protecting the lives of twenty-two million Afro-Americans
Then all of a sudden, Uncle Sam becomes very conscious, of legality
never played fair, yeah
Far from classy, walk real nasty
Talk real sassy, why you frontin'? Come smash me
I can't do it baby-girl, your man might
and old
They fought for the truth and the will to survive
All American by Birth and born with Southern Pride.
So raise the blade in the Heart
cake! (What I gotta do)
Aye little poor man, don't let em in your way! (In your way)
What I gotta do? So I can get the cake (What I gotta do)
Verse 1:
rockstar
Black boy, black boy, we don't get your culture and
We don't care what our government's done to fuck you over, man
Don't tell us your
I flow like Nile's waters
African-American rebel of authority
Majority, while I'm so-called minority
Sometimes they ask me, "Why are you the rebel?
Is
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