Lyrics:
to get heard
The uncut give it to niggas raw gets absorb
Why is it that every black brother talks the slang
Why is it that slang determines if a brother
Sometimes at night
The black sky shines so bright
Bring more light then the sunniest days
Don't you feel that spirit?
Dont you feel that spirit?
at it, after mathematics
In the home of drive-by's and ak-matics
Swap meets, sticky green, and bad traffic
I dip through, then I give you (still)
you're walking through the rain
Still I maintain
The top can get so lonely
The top can get so lonely
But it's better than the bottom
You told me
my home
I put the chrome to my dome when I'm all alone
By my lonely, I'm gonna join my dead homie
No hope, and I can't cope with the mental stress
sleep
I pile my rhymes by the heap on cassettes, Lp's, cd's and 12 inches
Perform the shit and get the girl like pinches
With good intentions, the key
the deceased
Many try to paint a picture cause the color of my pigment
It's hard to segregate the boy was young and black and gifted
And speaking of society,
ass locked up and there's no key
Can't act tough, bitch it's not lowkey
Bet yo dumbass feelin really fuckin lonely
The boys back to rap fast and contract
No cap, I backtrack and contrast
Out of luck, you crossed paths with black cats
Scratch that. I'll think back
Uh, yeah, yuh (Yuh, uh)
Uh, yeah, what, what, what
(That boy Cassius) huh, yuh, yeah, yeah
(Mu-Mu-Mu-Mu-Murda) yuh (Yuh)
Look into my eyes, I got
A MILLION
HEAD FULL OF BLACK THOUGHTS
HAD TO CLEAR FROM THE ROOTS IF IT LACKS HEART
I AIN’T GIVING UP THE JUICE TRYNA ACT HARD
KEEP CLIPSE BY THE 2’S FOR
Stop the bus
I want to be lonely
When seconds pass slowly
And years go flying by
You gotta stop the bus
We get off here
Enough's enough
the whips and switch the cribs up
Get my dick sucked by mermaids
Black shades, Hermès
The whole last winter I went through a fur phase
Yeah, that summer
They're asking me like I know
Booked me a hostel hiding
From the hostile away
From the harmful now i've
Deleted it all back to primal
Which one you want cd
the girls my room key
Money can't buy you love, so I don't pay for no pussy
I don't pay these haters no mind, so fuckin' call me cheap
I grab life by
I'm just tryin to get mine you best get yours so what you hatin for
Verse 1: Master P
Pop the lock on the benz with the keys
To high to see his
rappers
Not to get embarrassed in the booth
Yo, it's a shame I say
Most of you rappers play
And get your written rhymes eaten by a DJ
But I'm a MC and it's
solo per una Birkin (ah-ha)
I'm from Arab, click-clack, no kalam, big booty è haram
Big money so' halal, street boy, Montana ('Tana)
One, one Glock
The heat in my belt hangs an inch from my
Pee pee like a key to my cell
To censor me is to censor
My CD which inspires me
To spit what will eventually be
crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst
burnin' CD's 'cus she runs through deposits
You know the team, I got Mets on the keys
Loyalty and honesty the only things I need
Underdog status, rep it
and a key, I will start it and leave, when I'm far, then I'll get out and scream
I'm a rockstar, saw me on the cop car
Heard me screaming, "White boy
[Chorus]
That don't make me a bad guy
Don't scar my resume
Don't you give me a black eye
Judgin' by my day-to-day
He's in love with
Ridin' with my tool stocked
Who shot
Eighth up in my tube socks
Smoking til' my lungs are black and blue
Bum biddy bum, bum biddy bum bay
Bu-bum
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