Lyrics:
Having a bad week?
Let me touch your cheek
I will always love you
Having your face hit
Having your lip split
By the one who loves you
Real
a peep hole in his face
They peep O in the place then they get a bad taste
In they mouth, running his lip, I pull that ouch off my hip
Commence to spit,
I'm present on your scene
Ya lips tighten up
Always sipping top drink
When I'm by the bar
Ya chick looking at me blinking
Ima nova star
Trust a couple
miles away
No time or space
O preacher you're way too loud
My head's spinning round
Watch my gown
He's dressed in black
Don't let me drown
Oh preacher
on the ground steady for Black Lives Matter (Yeah)
Inhaled so much tear gas I’ll probably catch cancer (Look)
By the time I turn 40
Riot cops in Portland, man
There were three old gypsies by the ale house door,
picking brave and boldy-o.
One sang high and another sang low,
and the other sang a wraggle
rip
While my lyrics leave my lips
Ladies and gentleman kids of all ages
Watch a brother roamin' on stages
Name rings a bell from state to state
Province
Stop smoking black and milds
You sick
Boy you look like a stain
You a lick And my wrist bussed down from a brick
F A M O in this bitch off the shits
Got
things, have you chasin' your breath (that's right)
You got loose lips, you better put a collar on 'em (yeah)
Black Chanel frames, I spent a couple
go broke my name got to o's
F-A-be -O-L-O-you-S
[Chorus: x 2]
[Verse 3: Trina]
Nice lips, nice thighs, nice hips
Pussy tighter then a pair
[AT] The Artist Formerly Known as Fashion
[BA] By the way my name Attack, first name Black
[PZ] Problemz
[All] Put it all together and ya'll still
spiritual essence
And he goes by the name of, uh
Hood
Check your rhyme, punk that ass or get got, F it (shit)
I lick buckshots, Hood, madman, I rip up
O-o-o-h!
Your body drives me mad I’m missing your lips missing your eyes
Oh it’s wild desire lives in my blood lives in my mind
Now you know it’s
Damn your lips very soft
As I turn my Blackberry off
And I turn your bath water on
And you turn off your iPhone
Careless whispers, eye fuckin',
T
The pro-black Grammy goes out to Public Enemy
'Cause they too black and they too God damn strong
And we gonna give the lip-sync God damn motherfuckin Grammy
out to Ice T
The pro-black grammy goes out to Public Enemy
Cause they too black and they too God damn strong
And we gonna give the lip-sync God damn
choice, had golden brown eyes
Def lips, and fly thighs
Jet black hair, her complexion clear
And her derriere, had savoire-faire
Big gold teeth in her mouth
ain't help me with shit
Just know that money talk and that bullshit walk
Best to believe it
I'm riding solo in the whip
Black and mild that's on my lips
Black Thought, my sound's hard to come by
Last spotted on a yacht getting dumb high
Banging yacht rock with my squad from 2-1-5
Straight calling niggas
Nicaragua
Gave birth to MC's, seeds and bank robbers
We drove with pistol whips into world-wide trips
And my dick's been sucked by the finest lips
Stand
base
Anytime and place
What? Like Janet, I slam kids
Harder than Sha-quille O'neal down to the masses
I take crews back to, um, hiphop classes
Because
pain
I can get you John Doe by a no name
Catch him at the Chinese store
Pulled two sticks on him, we eatin' Lo Mein
Nah nigga, Smack can't hear
(hair)
the liberation of Mozambique
The children of the old man O.R Tambo
The Luthuli detachment
Those who fought at Wankie
Led by Chris Hani
Rattling the AK47 on their
(what)
How us young black thugs made history
We be some tru niggas on the rise
And we gonna ball till we fall
Two shots to my dead niggas on the wall
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