Lyrics:
Fanny (imitating male)
A woman’s place is in the home.
On the streets she should not roam.
Your recent actions, they’re out of place, to the jewish
or just shoot me
Cause if you don't salute me then my team will do the shooting
Yeah my nigga Ace will pull the black jack
The king Mike G is in the cut
The type to fly buyin a Z-28 IROC
And chop you in your motherfucking face
Your album ain't tight, what in the fuck is you pushing?
You played out just
even if I gotta
Fuck, suck and swallow in the parking lot
Gonzales Park, I'm followed by a married man, a father of three
My titties bounce
like skateboard P what sad song?
But what we had, we let drag on
Need an clean slate, Yu-Gi-oh that's black hole
Ok it was Dark Hole
We're an sell by
Harold told Melvin back in the days of penny loafs
When Teddy Pendegrass was in the blue notes
A big lip street nigga was in the makin' a ferocious
surprise horses in this stable
Just two albums in, I'm the realest nigga on this label
Mr. Black President, yeah Obama for real
They gotta put ya face
100 rounds in the K
I got your bitch on the way
I got the album on the way
You better tell them niggas lay low
Dom Periogn P Boss my life like
them panties sopping
Them Spooky bitches
Are Known for heart robbing
Come on spooky girl I'll put that pussy in a coffin
Black cat
Black lips
Black heart
stay in your dome
Got a little cough that you can't get ahold of
It won't stop cops don't roll up
Eyeballs pop like a shook up soda
Black liquid no
takes is a good nigga
At the wrong time for a bad day
Like a black boy in a drive by
Couple mommas cried issa sad day
But that’s life for us in the inner
black. (Black)
Like the moon in an eclipse.
Shining even in the dark.
The lights blurred my lips.
But I can say I'm back
I'm Again Back [Back - Back - Ck
thoughts consumed
By the pa**ion, slow jam tunes and body action
My finger's on the clit splashin', your p**** lips
Got you spazzin', love juices,
(Hahaha)
We let the music talk (Drought 3)
And by the way (what?)
It's Santana (it's Weezy), I'm back (yeah)
You dudes gotta stand in the mirror
still aint in my league
Hard to catch when you moving at light speed
Did an album with the day one
We ain't hopping on no type beats
Black sheep I aint
all black
All chrome, black-owned
Black tints, matte black
Walked by, my window down, let 'em see who in it
Crack a big smile (ding)
Go figure, me
and body action
My finger's on the clit splashing
Your pussy lips got you spazzing
Love juices, marinating in your satins
Sexy ass, I gets 'em like my
this whole album in my bedroom closet
And I'm coming with the thump that can thump yo noggin
I was raised off that cotton and I got to know, got to know
they
Rims at the Classic
A black mass of black kush wrapped in plastic
35 dollars for the gram, I was taxing
Telephone calls from her man
While I'm
Of where I'm at most of the time like
Kind of aloof and salty and
Also young and black
Last question there's a poem about you
Written in
1995 by your family
bitch with it
Roll up the smoke pump the heat and touch that smooth kitten
Playing Nas album it was written
They wishing they could make my demise
Back in
of niggas I got rid of
Still petty and not over shit
If I don’t keep calm nigga I might explode the shit
And leave four in ya nigga smokey black doja lips
just like flat minor
Forgot you man just like alzheimers (Gone)
Reminisce to the old school days
When my swift bars used to leave man in a daze
I tailor
Black America
Black tears
Black thoughts
Black fears
Black America
Black tears
Black thoughts
Black fears
l don’t wanna cry today
I just wanna live
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