Lyrics:
the seventies (seventies)
The only AIDS you used to know was cool-AIDS
Corn-bread, corn-rows, and corn-br-AIDS
Pull up a chair, read a book like Dr. Seuss
Peel
Do me a favor (what?)
Get your weight up
Felt's in your city, we don't need any help
Do me a favor, run that
CES, Murs, Strange, we wrote the book
Still smoking dope on the regular bitch
Hurricane come over with them xanny bars quick
Crush em up crush em up
Mix em all up in the blunt
I'm
in peace to all those we lost
By murder of the police damn
Don't shoot me, my nigga, it's just a book
It's probably what keeps everyone's life
End up
rejecting to give Him homage
Giving credit of dominance to these created beings
What was stated back in the book of Deuteronomy
Is not negated by grace
little girls
I twirled my fingers in the air, ran my fingers through my hair
Redbones to black bones, dark bones to redbones
Skinny girls come a dime
Welcome to the 2017 BET Hip-Hop Awards Cypher
I go by the name of 6LACK and
I came with Little Simz, Mysonne
Axel Leon and the homie Tee Grizzley
Yo,
the highway with me
[S.X.] Oh really?
[Kool] I'ma get a little bit of gas
Think you can make that trip or what?
[S.X.] Yeah I definitely can
little children snuggle
under soft black stars
and if you look into their eyes
soft black stars
deliver them from the book
and the letter
become a Black Panther
Protected by the black militia
Better protect ya neck my backup is RZA
Sunshine Sunshine oh how you made us dark
Moonwalking on land
light it up
If you got it light it up, if you got it light it up
Ain't no shook in 'em, Pyrex pots is hot, fiends is cooking 'em
Little niggaz
Little did we know that it'd be our last set
And it went like that
And it went like
And it went like that
And it went like
Black outs in the summer
the tectonic plate shift I
Create is so great
That by the time you reach me the earthquakes
The booth was my birthplace
I'm used to the static
They say I got
fishing with my boat and I'm fishing for trout
Mix the Bass Ale with the Guinness Stout
Fishing for a line inside my brain
And looking out at the world
column, didn't have to cook a rock
A damn goodie two-shoes, that what they call ya
Never judge a person or a book by it's covers
Just because my tone is
wiggly, wigglytuff
Don't know what the little one's name is, don't know why, I should probably study that
Study that
They should make a book out of that,
gang we in the bus up on the motherfucking road
Hop in the mix mix mix
When we pull up I need it lit lit lit
You can’t do me dirty little bitch I’m from
the ceiling
(I never knew I'd)
I don't do Black music, I don't do white music
I make fight music for high school kids
I put lives at risk when I drive
don't fake mine, I do this the fair way
Snitches get stitches, blown away and left on display
Hung by the grapevine, I just kicked a chair away
Let me be
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
ain't gettin' no check
I can tell she ain't gettin' no check
Tryna give a little neck for the check
She wanna fuck me cause I got checks
I can tell he
at the Universe, going to hell with everybody else
'Cause you want your own first
I got the urge to let you in on a little secret
'Cause you keep dying if I keep
They bankrupt
We cop homes
By in large
Make news laws
To prevent their loans
From going on
Draw black lines
Over the zones
Put them in public housing
we actin' wild
It's Waka Flame, you know my style
This little chain like 40 thou'
All eyes on me, thugged out
Pop a bean, that's the old me
Molly's
.jpg/261px-Belinda_Carlisle_(14357874569).jpg "Belinda Carlisle"){kind=spacer}
_2.jpg/300px-Little_Mix_at_the_Confetti_Tour_in_Leeds_(cropped)_2.jpg "Little Mix")
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