Lyrics:
speaking bout my life no word of mouth
By twelve you better have a sense of urgency
If not then deaths your only courtesy
Respect and rep is your only
and hustle hard
My grind is real, my hustle dope
I'm finding meals, I'm signing deals
I'm the Gladiator like Russell Crowe
Yeah, you know it's real, but
Akin to Brandon Lee in the crow
Nothing to lose homie
I'm gung-ho
Feel like three ten to Yuma
Russell Crowe
No one really know me homie
I'm a ghost
shit on tape?
Oh, my God, that nigga is cold, dawg
You see my pockets stay full, yours stay empty
You say I look Kunta Kinte
Blue black ain't shit jack,
the man in the black robe had to fear me
Watch my jewelry
Surprise by my delivery
After the case was over couldn’t appeal me
Momma be proud
Nothing stopping
by,"Yo,don't act
Cold-blooded,'cause it just ain't
Fair to kick a man when he's down"
'Cause,He is somebody
Like I am somebody
You are somebody
Like I am
You sell your soul like you sell a piece of ass
Slave to the dead white leaders on paper
Welfare cases, rapists and hoes
All reinforced by your TV
poolside at the Delano
If you, too, flow like you was out of your mind yo
'Cause who knew dude that loved apple pies from McDonald's
Would soon be
Standin' by your children when you haven't proven karma wrong
Black is doin' all of the above then goin' corner shop
Tryna help a lady cross the road
Where the traps is laid out for you in that case
How you trying to ride
In a rat race or in a black space with the fire by your side
Just in case or its
The needs outweigh the few,
The means outweighed the crew,
One thousand pounds, laid by two.
Black the scene, the gold,
The white the green.
Lowered
burnt by the 3 KKKs- 400 plus years beginning stage- 40 acres and a mule- where it’s at I’m confused- only country it’s a crime to send ya kids to school-
like
You feel like you got a chip on your shoulder
Until you finally get the memo, you will always feel that way
Why God, why God do I gotta suffer?
like
You feel like you got a chip on your shoulder
Until you finally get the memo, you will always feel that way
Why God, why God do I gotta suffer?
Nah, nah, nah
The good guys dress in black, remember that
Just in case we ever face to face and make contact
The title held by me, MIB
Means what
I’m randomly assigning
Every line that I’m writing a clever rhyme for good timing
So don’t think twice with your findings
They may appear to be one
suggest you pout
I'ma send this nigga out, get blessed by the God
Don't get clapped on
Just a young black man with a backbone
In the back come home,
Black Kia
Balance of the World
Better Ask Somebody
Who's your daddy?
Are you ended?
What a world I create
When I dream I'm not lonely
Things take
I'm sittin in the crib dreamin about leer jets and coupes
The way salt shoops and how they sell records like snoop
Oops!
I'm interrupted by
Though I walk through the valley, they know
That's a different text
In the gym with the Jim Crowe
That's a different flex
Whether black, white, or red
Its me, the brand new intelligent black woman why-O-why-O
Which is Yo-Yo, but I'm not to be played
Like I was made by matell
But this Yo-Yo is made
Its me, the brand new intelligent black woman why-O-why-O
Which is Yo-Yo, but I'm not to be played
Like I was made by matell
But this Yo-Yo is made
Its me, the brand new intelligent black woman why-O-why-O
Which is Yo-Yo, but I'm not to be played
Like I was made by matell
But this Yo-Yo is made
The temperature's risin (There's nothin surprisin)
What up black? Hold your head wherever you at
On the flow from the cops with wings on your back
That snitch nigga
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