Lyrics:
Before you hurt yourself, I think that you'll be doin' just fine
If you relax a little, I'm glad I inspire you, but Stan
Why are you so mad? Try
one knows who you are or what you do
They don't need to know me
They don't like you
Excuse me
Oh, Wall Street thinks you're great
You'll
want a champion to fall I still wonder why I laugh at 'em
'Cause why care when I'm awesome?)
Fuck what these cynics say
(Just goes to show that when
emotion, y'all gotta overcome that man
(Some people kill their brothers)
C'mon man be stronger than that, you know what I think?
(I think they've lost
But you ain't (nah), fuck that picture that you tryna paint
I'm here to tell you who you are and what to do (man, fuck you)
Some people say I can
did for niggas and they still so cold
And why that bitch I really love won't accept my lovin'?
I'm grown and I still don't know (oh)
Summertime but
Grandma
Yes Dear
Why is the world so scary
Well sonny boy there are many reasons
Why it's a very scary world out there
Could you tell me the story
problems up to here, I got people in my ear
Telling me these crazy things that I don't wanna know (fuck y'all)
I got money in the bank, and I'd really like
And then you'll find you're humming Sam's Song
Why, it makes you grin
Gets under your skin as only a song can do
People that you meet out on the street
every secret that you say
See all those people praying on TV and in the churches
They like to make a big parade out of what they're doing
They think God
for Black Lives Matter
We fight back with violence but acts like that are
Black eyes on the movement
Which makes black lives madder
At cops and cops
the Red Angels of N-Y City
Who shot the shot?
Who got shot tonight?
Who shot the shot?
Who got shot tonight?
Not even five enforcement agencies can save
throw up that finger
Hey yo, yo, yo throw y'all fingers up
Thug style, baby, thug style, y'know?
Tell me, baby, are you lonely? Don't wanna rush ya
mama too
'Cause we're about to throw down
And you'll know just what to do
Wave your hands in the air like you don't care
Glide by the people as they
my veins, arrivin' by plane
G4 to be exact, rewards of beats and raps
Three whores before four and three more are bein' cracked (facts)
That was
a stupid mothafucka!
Kickin' - like the kick from a kickdrum
Yella boy on the drum gettin' dumb
Programmin' - a beat that's hittin'
And if you listen
I'm reading the sacred script, KRS, Battlecat, Snoop in it, uh!
Let us begin, what, where, why or when?
Most of my homeboys are dead or in the pen
bullshittin'
Dope - like a pound or a key
So shut the fuck up and listen to me
I make a killin'
I got money to the ceilin' [why's that?]
Cuz I'm
of the things we believe
There's a whole lot of work we should roll up our sleeves
And we got a hold firm when fate's full like a sieve
Why doubt your plans
Wake up where the clouds are far behind me
Where troubles melt like lemon drops
High above the chimney tops
That's where you'll find me, wow
so the veterans of war assume
the revolution stopped. This ain't a protest tune.
"Hey, Bobby...the Masters are back. They're up to no good just like
y know the winners are victims
Or did you appraise it as real?
An losers are fools
Did you go fwhat came?
Now that youre his
Bobby and Rita live in the city
You know they're just getting by
Keeping the people entertained with their cam show
One click at a time
Rita's
Something more than a day that has nothing for me
I've reasons to say, Sunday's not my day
I'm harrassed by its crowds, how they passively file
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