Lyrics:
[8B] We some presidential players, with money by the layers
[8B] Ain't nuthin you broke ass niggaz do that can fade us
[TS] I won't stop rappin, I
the contradiction
Between America's reality and perhaps her
Selective vision of herself
Corruption just refers to fraudulent
Conduct by the powerful, which is
Couldn't believe it when we let all of the air out the floats/
It's like the game, is called, the rain, it falls/
Same as it's always been, white plain
niggas is trigger happy, got Pataki scared
This town ain't big enough for both of us and I ain't goin' nowhere
There it is, plain and simple like Jigga
song
Me, Squeaky, Flex and J, on Saratoga Street
Smokin white boys, bumpin dopefiend beats
Eighty-eight, my pockets wasn't straight, but I was makin
much background in political
Science but this much I know: Attending
Rallies sponsored by 110-percent
Anti-Communist cultists
Or donning white sheets
plain
Old black extensions
Just a T-shirt about carbon
"I always thought that by the time
I put out a third album, i would want
To come back to natural
intellect
Took a while to see by my vision
Can't put your foot down you be trippin
Did you hear yourself speak you don't listen
In the dark I got the sunlight
Light life yea
Like how that sound
Hard times yea
Better days still
Around
Got the plain white tee
Wit my rip blue jeans
On my way to get our piece
the corner.
Close to the end, down by a river.
Seasons will pass you by.
I get up, I get down.
III. I Get Up, I Get Down
Anderson/Howe
In her white lace
You
And every time I talk about it I Should just be the one who's been Saying all of these things on repeat
Like a broken record
I am broken I am broken I am
him as he passes by
I say to myself, he looks like the FBI
A white man like him, what is he doing over here?
I wonder, what does he want
Then he
the Pope of Rome
And he took a rеcord player out
And then he startеd home
He took a record player out
And then he started home
Next night they had a hooley
right here next to me...
Staring
Winking sexually
She might just get the best of me
Wipe me down
Wipe me
Wipe me down
These designer fabrics, by
Yo, I'm a white rapper, I'm a black magician
I'ma have to kick it 'til I'm out of ammunition
The squad is back in business, in fact, we never left
and join the fight
Ain’t no stubble, trouble in the bubble
Woken, broken, life’s a subway token
Eatin’ potato fries under leaden skies
When the air turns
the corner.
Close to the end, down by a river.
Seasons will pass you by.
I get up, I get down.
III. I Get Up, I Get Down
Anderson/Howe
In her white lace
You
In the lonely night
In the blinking stardust of a pale blue light
You're comin' through to me in black and white
When we were made of dreams
a missing uncle and another need a kidney flip
Face says I been stressed
I got a aunt getting her ass kicked by MS
Nigga, why am I here? For the look, for
"Gen’lmen, we just havin’ church
Here" Six words which - directed at me and
A fellow soul buff at the Full
Gospel Tabernacle church by it's chuckling
The record is playing the crowd is moving
Pump up the bass in the place
Party people, no time to waste
No matter how fast you walk I am faster
Don't let me get
some records played on hot 97
My youth I'm used to it I won't lose it so I don't use it
I used to sit cooped up in my room and cruise the net
Abuse my
and half white
C'mon this sound it had
To come from somewhere, right?
Nah, nah, see homie race is not the issue
And if you stepping to me like
It is I'll
you were plain,
Oh babe, truer words
Have not been spoken or broken.
In the hills of mystery,
In the foggy web of destiny,
You can have what's
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