Lyrics:
black Timbs black
Kill tracks like I'm 6lack (Black ass nigga!)
Hair blacker than black lips black
Even my dick black
Grandad Irish Trinidad
Guess I
me in a black cage
Black on black on black
Master Juba with the tap dance
Gucci with the Dapper Dan
Tell 'em, "Kiss my black ass"
Ridin'
of what you ain't
Well packaged to distribute to the masters
Plotted this since first grade classes
Class is elements of a classic
I've got evidence
a space coupe
Bye Bye leave em all talking
Black belt on my waist too
They see the chop
Shawtys gone flock
I tell em come visit the dojo
No we don't stop
MORTICIAN : Eric Idle
CUSTOMER : John Cleese
DEAD PERSON : ???
DENNIS : Michael Palin
WOMAN : Terry Jones
BLACK KNIGHT : John Cleese (?)
VILLAGER #1 :
long does forgiveness take?
Forever
Dirt bikes and pizza
I die
No supervision
I die
Slingshots and lighters
I die
No masters for bastards
I die
Things
love me out in Ny
They love me out in A, Atl
Whenever I swing by
They say I kick it like a black belt
(Hi yah)
I kick it like a black belt (Hi)
I kick
I day three clocks
2 homies four rocks
Ice 5 6 black chains
Black chains
I put the bread in the plate
Slice
Trigger men don't hesitate
Humble man
Yo I’m rich, black, the 6, the 'Lac
The Phantom, the strap, stay on my lap
I’m a hustler, ganja puffer, iron tucker
I get ripped in the afternoons
fucked up like the mice in cheese
Life's a B, Bentley and big bills
Bottles, biscuits, bitches, blunts, bad boys bodying pit bulls
Karate, black belt
the mice in cheese
Life's a be, Bentley and big bills
Bottles, biscuits, bitches, blunts, bad boys bodying pit bulls
Karate, black belt and I bring booze
ready and a lil heavy in the belt
Squad roll with me but I carry myself
Loyalty over all royalty, you do not know what you up against
Im lining em up
CHAMPION.
No lloro soy un toro.
Si tu inf6nci6 se h6ce dur6 no dejes que te hund6 en el lodo.
Busc6 el modo no llores por todo.
Codo con codo yo y
Io che son la black belt, cresciuto per la calle
Per locali e night club, jin tonik per le baie
Ho mille nomi man, man!
Leccavi le mie palle per
matchin' with the ratchet
Lil' black weave sweatpants style, air force is actin
Jump in the 6, kicks look crisp, talkin' bout the bird
Flow through your
Florida
New York stand up
Came back up top
You know how we do
Gotta touch the lowa
Bang bang
Uh uh
Thinking of a master plan
Ain't nothing but drugs
With the Master Gee it's all the way live
At the age of six I was a picking up sticks
Rapping to the beat my stick was fixed
At the age of seven I was
at birth he met all the criteria
Now he's grown up
80 inch reach, 6'4
Kick, box, grapple on the floor
He was made for war
Mastered all fight forms
Yo he's
With the Master Gee it's all the way live
At the age of six I was a picking up sticks
Rapping to the beat my stick was fixed
At the age of seven I was
bars
Nunchucks slinging bars
Faster blade black belt
Im hokage today yeah
Today im hokage nigga
Ninja Star
Ninja Star
Hundred darts all in your car
around and get burnt like a CI
More bars than jail, nigga
Who tryna get a VI?
You dealing with stock owners
Conversation with stockbrokers
Make a call for
Yeah back it up
Vultures of culture
A dollar a rhyme, but we barely get a dime
Uh-huh, check it out
If you don't own the master, then
hood to Alaska
Got a black belt I'm whippin', yeah
They call me the master
I get thirty in the D
And forty-five in Nebraska (yeah)
The shit I say
Mixing spice with 310
Then I float on deep ends
I attack, don't defend
Don't hold back, no seat belt
Grudges on my exes
Hope you never get rich
If I
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