Lyrics:
taste the impurity on her lips
her little white dress is stained with red
tainted love of the dead
adorn her face
with a black rose
so she can
book!
here let me read you this one
Chrismas in Compton
it was a silent night, yes a holy night
until Mr. Claus turned into Santa muthafuckin' right?
Listen and listen well
He's a bad Muthafu
Gimmie that god damn book!
Here let me read you this one
Christmas in Compton
It was a silent night,
dressed in a black monk’s habit,
a Franciscan monk’s rope as a belt
doubled round three times.
A little book by San Agustin
in her delicate hands;
she was
the way I go in the end, I shut my eyes to begin
Little black cars stretched out In a line
All moving backwards in time
There's no connection
There's
Let me tell you this little story
About this three bad ladies
One Latin one black and this Asian
Yeah this bitches drove me crazy
Dated this bad
connection
All the triborough got the back of black connection
My huggy bear connect, connect
Me cautious, I enter a flamin' scorch, you by the door,
One peaceful afternoon
I picked up from my mailbox
The strangest looking letter I'd ever seen
A chilling little envelope
Bordered with flying
black straps
Black lungs black book
Black sheep black boots
Black black, yeah i'm dressed to kill
I'm rough around the edge it seems
I need a little flaw
that while rollin in a ride at the same time
Listen to the bassline
By T.C.
And my nigga named Black see
Poem like d-o-p-e
Sayin fresh rhymes for the RBL
to my voice if I stay silent when black people are dying
Then I'm trying to be politically correct?
I can book a whole tour, sell out the tickets
Rap
Doing all that time
Free King Jeo
Shooting Cee-lo and
Reading books with Rio
Sharpen my mental just
To count by the kilo
Damn, Running out of ink
You know
grabs you by the roots
Right? A love quest so when your thoughts is black
An employ you can enjoy and look forward to that
Kinda like how I look
I'm eatin' day by day; ain't nothin' sweet about it
Act like you don't know what I'm sayin' then you read about it
Built for war like a armadillo
Yeah, yeah that sho' feel good
Hello! I go by the name of simply Cee-Lo Green
How do you do? Welcome
I thought I'd seize this opportunity to tell you
ain't always what you see
All fields ain't corn, and all tractors ain't green
Kind of like the cover in a book
I might sound a little different than
rollin cee-lo with steel dice
My black book make, more people petrol than Heidi Floess
I'm nice on mic jacks, and murder to a dub deck
The Knotty
Uh, we got the black elite in the house tonight
Rosewood
I feel like I'm at the NAACP or something right now
Essence Festival
Q-Tip on the beat, too
the city of Los Angeles")
Not guilty, the filthy, devils tried to kill me
When the news get to the hood the niggas will be
Hotter than cayenne pepper,
After bein' 25 you know just trying to survive in the world
Bout to have a little boy or baby girl. Who knows?
Anyway just when you start getting
Take my hands out my pockets you can see my thumbs
Both of them turned green from counting the ones
Memorized by the glory, word life
Cut off
to you.
He's, he's from um, the Czech Republic.
And I wanted to read you this quick letter by the cat because he's just amazing. And he wrote one
to blow, like two hoes off the henny
Playing cee-lo, nothing but panties on under their peacoats
Trained to go
Speaking of trains I need that express five
Today we're gonna do something scary
We're venturing into the mind of young black males
Let's take a peak...
[ Young Lay ]
Cuddies perved by
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