Lyrics:
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
[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
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
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
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
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
We on now baby 227
Hutch, Habbie, SNS holla at your boy
Blockworks
By the time niggas realize what happened
It'll already be too late
By then
preposterous
Yeah this shit is ments
Got the keys that's word to tems
We ain't grow up in the ends
But still made friends in the trenches
War with 4 classes
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
promise you'll find the key
To that punchline, feelin' just fine
Let the abyss of my mind, my mind consume
Snap my fingers like Thanos and Bobby Boy
dummies go get it
I got a key in the bag and the cops on my ass
But I swear that I'm mo'fuckin' drippin'
'Cause if I ain't in it you
Know I'm gon' kill it
figures
Police drive by, I was click clacking triggers
Jay De Lucas put me with the fam to grow
I was a boss amongst white boys rocking the flow
I had
on your tape or CD
The girl-boy killa, no team illa
The Fam-o, ammo, is every channel
We been hot for a long time burnin' like a candle
What you can do
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